Richard Stephenson - Resistance

Chrissy tried her best to wiggle free from the old woman’s sweaty embrace without waking her, but it didn’t work.

“Angela? What are you doing, dear?”

“My name’s Chrissy, ma’am.”

“Oh, Angela, don’t be silly. You always like to play your little make-believe games. Is something wrong, dear?”

“I just want to stand up and stretch, ma’am.”

“Sweetheart, you start calling me Granny. Stop being silly.”

“Uh… you’re not my grandmother.” Chrissy practically whispered it for fear of angering the confused woman.

“Angela, dear, be a good girl and ask your father to pull the van over. I need to use the restroom.”

Chrissy finally understood what was going on; the poor old woman had something wrong with her mind. She wasn’t sure, but she thought the men with guns had killed all the old people. Chrissy was scared for the lady; if she acted like this in front of slavers, they would surely kill her.

“Granny, Daddy told me earlier that we’ll stop at the next gas station. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and it will be a long time before we can stop.

“Such a little sweetheart; there’s my good girl.”

“He wants you to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we stop.”

“Okay, dear. That’s probably a good idea.”

For the first time since all this madness began, Chrissy began to feel a bit more confident and less fearful. She had a purpose now, something to keep her mind occupied. She had to take care of this woman and make sure she was safe.

As the truck slowed to a stop and the cab door slammed shut, Chrissy’s fear returned with a vengeance. Once the engine was silenced, she was blanketed by the frightened mewing of her fellow captives. Angry people could be heard pleading for divine intervention.

“They can’t do this! We have to do something!”

“Shut up! You’re gonna get us all killed!”

The doors opened and two rounds were fired into the roof of the truck.

“Get the fuck out! NOW!”

“Listen here! You can’t do this to us! This isn’t right! I demand to…”

Another shot was fired; silence followed.

When will these people figure out that the bad guys will kill them if they don’t keep their mouths shut? Chrissy closed her eyes and prayed.

“Anybody else have any fucking demands? Huh? Anyone? No? Good, that’s what I thought. Hurry the fuck up and get out!”

The first two people stepped out. Both were grabbed and flung to the ground. “You’re not moving fast enough! Hurry up! We don’t have all day! Everybody out! Get in a double line, now!”

Chrissy started to panic. She had to come up with something quick to keep the old woman safe. “Granny. Granny! It’s time to wake up now. C’mon, let’s get going.”

“Are we there, dear? I hope your father found a place to eat. I’m very hungry.”

“Uh… yeah, we’re at a restaurant now. They want us to line up outside so they can get the tables ready. We need to be quiet and let them figure out where we’re gonna sit.”

“Okay, Angela, that sounds nice.”

Chrissy helped the old woman to her feet, and they shuffled from the truck and stood in line. Everyone was staring at the ground, terrified to speak or move a muscle.

Chrissy held the old woman’s hand as they waited quietly on the second row. Chrissy’s mind was racing, trying to figure out what she would do if the old woman made a scene. If she couldn’t keep her quiet, she wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to stick her neck out and run the risk of getting shot.

Chrissy cautiously raised her head and surveyed the scene around her. They had stopped in the biggest parking lot she’d ever seen. There were signs all around. The one that caught her eye said “We Hope You Enjoy Your Stay at the Magic Kingdom.” There was another one with a picture of Mickey Mouse on it but she couldn’t make out the words.

The bad guys brought us to Disney World?

The group waited in silence for several minutes while the slavers talked with another group of men with guns. Then they just stood there and said nothing; it looked like they were waiting for something to happen. Chrissy began to shake. Are they going to kill us?

Chrissy glanced to her right and saw the apparent cause of the delay. An important-looking man was slowly walking toward the group. He shook hands with one of the slavers. The slaver gestured toward the group and the two men started to walk up and down the rows of frightened people. As they made their way down the second row, Chrissy let go of the woman’s hand, tears of shame streaming down her grimy face. She didn’t know what she would do if the old woman got confused and drew attention to herself. She prayed harder than she ever had before that the old woman would remain quiet. If they shot her, Chrissy would blame herself for the rest of her life. Chrissy heard the two men talking as they approached.

“You should be able to get a lot of work out of them. Plenty of good, healthy men to do some labor; plenty of women to fuck when they’re not cleaning.”

“Why’d you bring kids? What am I supposed to do with kids?”

“I’m sure you’ll find use for them; they’ll grow up soon enough. Better to train ‘em now so they learn what’s expected of them when they get older. You can also train them to do other things… if you catch my drift.”

“How much you want for the lot of them?”

“I have a list of things in high demand on our routes. We can discuss that over dinner.”

“Of course. How many men you got with you?”

“Six.”

“Round ‘em up and we’ll take them to the chow hall. I bet you guys could use some drinks and time to unwind after your long trip.”

“Damn straight! Lead the way.”

The men were herded toward a building a hundred yards away.

The man in charge walked to the front of the group of slaves he had just agreed to purchase. He said something to two of his men and shook his head. The two men ran forward ten yards, stopped, and raised their arms, pistols in each hand. In a deafening roar of bullets, all six of the evil monsters that Chrissy had feared with every fiber of her being dropped to the ground.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the Unified American Empire has decided to put an end to the slave trade. I never tolerated it, and I think it’s time they did something about it. You’re all free men and women. My name is Benjamin Black, and I’d be pleased to have you join our community.

Kaliz Mubbarak stopped his pickup truck in the parking lot of an apartment complex in Sausalito, California. He didn’t honk the horn or get out of the vehicle. He and his partner sat in silence, waiting for the other two members of their team. Kaliz discreetly scanned the crowded parking lot for any sign of movement and found none in the hushed, shadowy hour before sunrise. A minute later, his teammates exited their apartment and climbed into the back of the oversized cab. No words were spoken for a full ten minutes. They had learned to leave the talking to Kaliz. They didn’t even know each other’s real names, only the aliases they had adopted to maintain their cover. All four were American citizens. Their families had immigrated to the former United States when they were small children, and they had grown up behind enemy lines. All had attended American schools, played sports, had girlfriends, and voted in local, state, and national elections. Kaliz had even spent two years as an infantryman in the United States Army. They’d spent their entire lives hiding their true nationality and passed themselves off as Spaniards. In their youth, they spent many long hours learning to speak Spanish and had mastered the accent, even their English tainted by a touch of the foreign tongue.