Zoners

ZONERS

By Dan Linthicum

© 2012 Dan Linthicum

Published by New Visions Publications at Smashwords

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter One:

The force of the explosion rocked me back to a half crouched position; looking to my left I saw a bloody pile of fire scorched flesh and bone. Shoot, shoot ‘em! Someone next to me was screaming in my ear. You got the gun, blast ‘em! I looked down in my hand and saw the cylinder with a handle and a trigger. Looking up and across the grassy opening in front of me, I focused in on a metallic figure about two hundred feet away. This figure was pointing its arm in my direction and instinctively I knew that I was to become the next mound of molten flesh if something wasn’t done quickly.

Wiping blood and sweat from my eyes, I raised my arm and aimed my weapon at the Enforcer. As the split seconds ticked, recognition of the situation began forming in my mind. Shots and explosions were flying around me; people screaming and running in panic; the noise was incredible! The fear; adrenaline was pumping through my body and bringing clarity to my confusion!

The Enforcer robot had locked on to the presence of my weapon, our lives depended upon getting a shot off. A green light appeared on the sight. I pulled the trigger and sent the micromissle on its way. As slow motion took over, the tiny stream of reddish brown smoke twisted across the space between us. Eat this, I muttered to myself as the shell made its impact. In the noise and confusion it was just one more sound, one more plume of smoke boiling up over the field, as the robot melted down to its waist. Nothing but two stumps of metal sticking up as the machine crumpled down on what once were its knees.

Run, gotta get out of here, thoughts were now flooding me, shouting for attention as sight and sound came crashing back.

Hey, this way! came a voice at my side. We gotta make it to the alley.

I’m aware of a large area, an open space; town square like. Lot’s of people milling around, pushing and shoving, running in turmoil. Let’s do it, I shout, although the sound of my own voice rings like an echo in my head. Bumping and dodging through the crowd, a woman in front of me collapses. I reach out half catching her under the arms, trying to pull her up to a standing position again. She is heavy and hard to lift. My eyes catch a reflection of red, shiny metallic red. Another Enforcer, attracted by the sight of my weapon, programmed to neutralize anyone not authorized to carry one.

Come on god damn it, he’s gonna shoot! I scream at this woman that has become my responsibility all in a few split seconds. Get up! I pull and heave backward, trying to move away from the machine starting to come in my direction, locking on with the invisible tracking that makes the hair raise on the back of your neck. I desperately pull, backing up and pulling, trying to lift her weight, hold on to my pistol and get out of the way all at once.

A dazzle of sparkling points of light wrapped and twisted into a tight beam of changing colors comes pulsating at us. Too late to move, the beam slams into her chest, knocking us both back a little but not as much as I thought it would. My arms let her fall to the ground as I smell the four-inch smoking hole in her chest left by the laser.

Instinct is a valuable asset; my gun was raised and fired in an instant. Once locked on by their internal guidance, they never miss!

I turned and ran, the question half formed in my mind. Did I grab hold of that woman to help her? Who did I see first, the enforcer, or her? No time now, later!

Clarity was slowly coming back into my head, like a fog lifting. I start to remember again, the shock of the explosion as that ‘Forcer melted down my buddy; it really fried my head for a few minutes.

James, where are the others? I bark, as we dart through the ever-thickening crowd of street people struggling to get out of harms way, to get invisible again.

Don’t know man, they scattered when that Robo lit up Will. James hollers back as we near the alley way opening. James and I take one more quick look up and down the street before slipping down the narrow space between buildings and into an open doorway halfway down the dark passage.

The sound of the outside dies away as the door closes behind us. It’s a good feeling to be inside, out of the light and back into the security of the dark, tight spaces that have come to symbolize home and safety. Now I can afford the luxury of a deep breath and quick inspection to see if any of this blood splattered all over me is really mine.

I walk over to the small wooden table situated under the dim light hanging in the middle of the room. Opening the gray box sitting on the table, I gently lay my pistol inside, making sure to close the lid tightly. The coffins, as we call them, are the only way to shield the presence of our guns from the scanners.

Ever since the gun control laws of the 2010’s, each weapon manufactured has a scanner sensitive construction, so the powers that be can locate them easily and quickly. The special metal resin material of the coffins is the only way to mask the scans. Someday, somebody is bound to figure out a way around it, until then we take our chances every time they leave the box.

Rosa, toss me a towel would ya. Rosa has been waiting nervously for one of us to speak.

Here, she says, You guys look pretty wiped out, what happened?

The ‘Forcers came sooner than we thought they would, James stutters, We didn’t get a chance to organize the crowd.

Not much of a show of force, it could have been worse, I said. Not much, I muttered to myself, just enough to fry Will. I flop down on a stool and lean my weight on the table.

Rosa hands me a cup of steaming tea, I glance up at her face, then try to focus myself. But they got Will, he took the shot meant for me. I had the gun in my hands, but Will just stepped into the line of fire before the micro hit. I could see the shock in her eyes, but she expressed no outward emotion. I know you two were close.... Rosa turned and stepped away before I could finish; what could I say anyway? People are getting wasted faster than we can count ‘em.

Are you o.k. Jake? Rosa asks, she has silently appeared back at my side. You look kinda shook up.

I’m stunned by her composure, She had learned many years ago the value of keeping true feelings to yourself. In a world that respects only power and strength, emotional attachments only mean weakness. Weakness is seized upon by the pack of humanity and torn to bits.

I’m fine kid, I look worse than I am. Don’t worry, there’s still plenty of luck left in me. She doesn’t reply, just disappears into the darkness of the next room. I head for the bathroom to hose myself off, hope they turned the water on today., James was already asleep in his chair, I was mumbling to myself again.

The organized fighting didn’t really start in earnest until the Feds set up the Urban Federalized Districts, known on the streets as Zones. They were areas, usually inner city ghettos, where the city, county and state governments were unable or unwilling to control the population or provide even the most basic of human services. Whole square miles of man made jungle where the police, fire and medical, not to mention utility crews were unwilling to go for fear of their own safety.

Money and resources were running thin, especially during the economic depressions of the early 2000’s. What money and power there was went to the more effluent suburbs and outlying areas, where the voters and taxpayers lived.

The rot, once started, was considered irreversible, so whole communities of urban squalor were written off by local authorities that had once tried to keep order and civilization together.

This left the people who were economically, culturally and physically trapped in these districts unrepresented, unprotected and virtually refugees in their own country.

The Federal Government was required to step in and organize these Wild Zones, more out of a concern for the surrounding neighborhoods than because of a sense of caring. The Zoners