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 Post subject: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 10:55 am 
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Location: The Milky Way
---[Setting]---
Galaxy: Milky Way
System Cluster: Local Cluster
Solar System: Ra/Sol/Sun
Planet: Earth/Gaia
Level: surface
Continent / Ocean: North America
Nation / Territory: U.S.A.
State / Province: _
County / Prefecture: _
City / Town / Village: _
Suburb: _
Structure: the train station on the edge of town
Time Frame: Past
TNH Verse Year: 2012
Local Date: 2012 July _

Life “as we know it” had been going on and on with its hum-drum drudgery for several millennia now. The humans were not aware that they had just survived the passage through the Iron Age they called ‘recorded history’ and ‘the Dark Ages’. Writing had been invented when their memory capacities started to wane with the distancing of their forgotten binary star, and great dramas had ensued, leading to turmoil on all levels from local, tribal, emotional to full warfare. People had started fearing, started thinking there were urgent needs to copy and hide things, and became hermits, social pariahs, paranoid, and xenophobic. Even their diets had changed due to the energy fluxes that cost them much of their comprehension abilities and general mental faculties; blood and *** had been replaced by grain and alien dairy; the milk from other species long after it was no longer supposed to be ingested. People began to lobby, embellish, lie, extort, and coerce… all to ensure that what they were already doing remained stable, rather than learn and remain dynamic and healthy for the good of themselves as well as that of the many. Everything had gone to hell. Everyone grew illogically proud and self-assured… self-righteous. History –wisdom- was forgotten.

Now, with the dawning of the latest Bronze Age, and with it leading into its successor Silver Age, along with the corresponding Age of Aquarius, things were starting to pick up again. The humans had re-embraced technology and the philosophy of the ‘global village’. They were beginning to think in non-linear terms, and learning the science and art of dance, singing, and *** again, but it was too late. The Directive of the remote and unheard-of Inisfreeans had already been set into motion, and their founding father had already launched his beta of their mobile fortress-factory-city. It was all a matter of time now, despite no outward or public indications of such. Everyone assumed (or hoped) that the 2012 doomsday prophecies were all just a hoax to boost action movie sales.

For generations, the shadow governments of the world had been regaining the knowledge they had lost during the cosmic-seasonal ‘Shifts’; namely, the most recent one which brought about the submerging of Atlantis, the relocation of the Library of Alexandria, and the fail-safes of the pyramids that left them appearing like innocent, useless piles of stone. It was clear that the ancients of modern man’s ‘pre-history’ had been superior in their agricultural advancements, such as with Terra Preta, the concrete of the sunken ruins and the Nazca Lines, the portal vortexes of the Bermuda Triangle, and the free energy later re-mastered by the Soviet Tesla. The agents of the secret organizations around the world were once again forging themselves into brotherhoods and corporations, as well as conglomerates and oligarchies, seeking to restore these things their wise sages had always had accurate gut feelings about. Like with the Ahnenerbe, they were doing quite well, and things were accelerating in all the right directions.

One of the great projects these shadow agencies had been hard at work upon was the one dreamt up by a young boy not even out of his teens at the time they’d begun. Prophets, wizards, and the elite of the elite had sensed it coming, predicted it accurately with the great libraries they had found ways of mobilizing and backing up on various mediums, and searched vigilantly until they had found and confirmed the young man’s existence. His life and works were closely monitored, and he was given just enough to go on through hellish and enlightening chapters that continuously proved mutually beneficial between him and his truly secret and ever-private admirers. When his military inventions and tactical manual revisions started bubbling forth and crystallizing, it was all they needed to finalize and set into motion their long withstanding goals. Come mid-2012, in the heat of the restored American unrest and revolutionary air, they struck as clandestinely as ever, and the pre-Rapture –the pre-Apocalypse- was born.

As the Americans looked up to their skies, hoping to see the beautiful rainbow flashes of their colorful celebratory fireworks that Independence Day, many millions of them instead were blinded; their retinas melted by the blinding, searing, agonizing flashes of photon overloads emitted by the pulses of nearby detonated thermonuclear bombs. The weapons had been flown over a few of their cities via stealth UAVs like the Dark Star and Predator drones, evading the detection of mainstream military and civilian radar and weather stations. With the majority of the population of those great American cities now deatomized, scattered like ragdolls in the radioactive hurricane-force winds, crushed under the debris of countless skyscrapers, or blind, radiated, and wandering about in deaf, wobbly horror, the National Guard was mobilized, and the Federal Emergency Management Agency stepped in. None of these groups were the wiser; all thought they were truly doing their best to help those they loved in a truly unforeseen turn of events. America was under attack again, and many had said it was regrettably but logically long over-due.

The poisonous rains and winds of the fallout were entering the upper atmosphere and beginning to spread out like invisible blankets of plague and degeneration, slowly trickling like evil fairy dust back down all over the continent. Soldiers, Marines, sailors and airmen alike had suited up in their MOPP gear and M-40 field protective masks. The CDC and NEST personnel were deployed, as well. Hell, everyone was deployed. Entire cities were being evacuated. The heads of state were being relocated. NORAD and its sister facilities were all put into high alert. All military forces were recalled, including those people who had long since concluded their IRR duties. The stock market again crashed. Wall Street was abandoned. The value of the American dollar dropped to zero, and the world economy crashed shortly thereafter. Wars over clean water, clean food, and clean air had begun. And people were fighting their own families, loved ones, and countrymen for what sparse and disgusting rations were left available.

The freight train was parked just outside the city’s limits, and Army soldiers in NBC gear, aided by local law enforcement, fire fighters, paramedics, and mobile hospital units were all triaging and ushering the millions of huddled, trembling masses aboard the vacated shipping containers bolted down to the cars of the lengthy cargo vessel. In the distance, the mushroom cloud had long since faded, and warm ash had caused a grey-out of what once was cherished as a skyline that stretched for dozens of miles, horizon to horizon. Now, one was lucky enough if they could see their own hand in front of their face, and the flood lights and herds of masses weren’t helping.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 11:57 am 
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by Sarah

Sarah staggered amongst the remaining masses, hands blindly reaching out along the bodies that were all jostling together like a bunch of cattle being driven into a pen. Long ago her voice had gone hoarse from crying out, trying to find her family among the hysterical crowd that had also been blinded by the sudden flash which blossomed across the sky, brighter than any sunrise. The panicked screams and wails had almost been enough to make her go deaf. There was no way she was able to hear her family’s answers over the roar of panicked voices.

Hazel eyes were red-rimmed from the biting salt in her tears that had long since stopped falling; there is only so long a body can panic and cry before it eventually gives up the futile display of emotion and comes to terms with the surrounding reality. There was nothing but empty blackness before her, and the sounds of mourning all around her... Why couldn't they just shut up already? How long were they going to howl in her head for?

There was little hope left within the 16 year old girl, her mind running through the days leading up to this fatal disaster... how she had fought with her brothers, how she never saw eye-to-eye with her parents, the continuous circle of mindless daily routine that hardly varied in any way... All that was gone. Now she didn't know where she was, who was around her, or where she was going.

Chaos was everywhere, but the crowd seemed to be funneling into a single point, as far as she could tell. Bits of conversation began to drift to her; something about boarding a train, whispers of a nuclear bomb... which explained the flash, the rippling of the earth beneath her feet. She had been lucky that she was only so close as to be blinded, if that was the case. Strong arms reached out and plucked her from amongst the bumbling bodies. It had startled her, but what was the point in fighting it?

Reaching out, she found a smooth space of wall and pressed up against it. There seemed to be enough space for her to settle into a sit. Wrapping her arms around her slender legs, she hugged them to her chest. Leaning her forehead against the tops of her knees, her dark chocolate hair streaked with golden caramel high lights (naturally done by sunlight as her parents refused to let her dye her hair) spilled down either side of her face, and draped half way down her bent legs. Sun-kissed skin was lightly coated in a dusting of grey ash, her purple tank top with its thin shoulder straps and deep U-neck line a wrinkled mess. The light blue jeans she had paid nearly a hundred dollars for, with their glittery back pockets, now had grass and earth stains smudged deep into the fabric and would probably never come out.

The sounds around her at long last died down, which she was grateful for... All she wanted now was sleep...


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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis
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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:10 pm 
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It was all their government could do; help as many people get as far away from the targeted cities as possible, before more of the bombs expected were sure to race and rocket in high over their heads. There would be contaminates of all sorts haunting the cramped train cars, and it would remind everyone aboard with any formal schooling of the same types of trains and compartments that had ferried the unsuspecting social outcasts and miscreants to labor camps during the last two 'Great Wars' of their world.

As the civilians were herded out, long convoys of military and scientific vehicles were directed in; it was their moment of sheer bravery and insanity; their attempt to euthanize anyone too badly radiated or crippled to make the sojourn out to the awaiting train yards. It was also their attempt to analyze the debris of the nuclear blasts, that they might isolate its elements and determine from such tests who had attacked them, and with which materials. They dared to assume that once a city had been nuked, it would not be nuked again.

Troops passed out all the bottles, canteens, flasks, and bladders of water they had, and support vehicles trailing tanks and jugs more of it continued to roll in, emptying every water tower and body of freshwater within miles just to ensure no one died of dehydration. Despite this frantic effort, FEMA was grossly undermanned, and riots continued to break out amidst the herded evacuees over the precious commodity now found in such drastic shortage and demand.

Despite their training, many of the active duty and reservist military personnel were trembling and tearing up, too. Their commanders -those who were barely keeping their wits about them- were futily barking orders for them to maintain their military bearing, hoping it would maintain the shaky stability, civility, and hope, amongst the seemingly endless crowds they were driving like cattle between their batons and assault rifles.

Before even half of those fleeing the crumbling, glowing, smoke billowing cities covered in layers of many feet of ash could reach the trains, they all began to depart their stations. Desperate civilians and troops alike clung to their exteriors. Some were knocked off by those trying to maintain order, but many feared no more trains would ever come for them, and that there was no point in trying to walk such great distances under the falling debris and cell-killing poisons. There were desertions and mutinies, rapes and murders, pillaging and scavenging; all social order had collapsed. Those who had already assumed all was lost had only set to making that much more likely the case for everyone else. It was like the sacking of Rome, only the Romans in this case had done it themselves.

As Sarah's train crawled into a cruising speed, the people around her, all compacted together, shifted and groaned, many still losing control of their bowels directly into their pants and onto the bare floors of the box cars they now over-stuffed. Those who were claustrophobic of course panicked, clawing frantically at those around them, and any hard surfaces they could find, gasping for air that everyone else needed badly to be conserved.

After what seemed like an eternity of travel, her train began its ten mile deceleration into the nearest station that would take them all in; an nondescript way-station far outside the suburban and even rural limits of her speckle of civilization. It was one of the thousands of FEMA camps established by converting old, abandoned, condemned, and renovated facilities into holding facilities like the Japanese internment camps, or the CDC quarantine checkpoints from cover-ups past. More troops in different protective suits ushered everyone back out of the trains. They were far away from all of the city lights now (with the exception of a few hundred of the unluckier FEMA camps located just inside the many city limits elsewhere), and were once again being herded, medically screened, and now assigned to hangars, collapsible cots, and very small sections of concrete floor-space, awaiting blankets and rations no one knew for sure were coming.

If Sarah had been able to see, she would have seen that the razor-wire atop the many layers of deeply anchored perimeter fences hung both inside and out; designed to keep people where they belonged; the guards on the outside with those who couldn’t be saved, and the evacuees on the inside, in case any of them contaminated the others. The faint glow of flood lights might be visible in what was left of her vision. No human doctors in the world could restore her eyesight now, if any of them were even still alive and functional. The loud speakers attached high above on old telephone poles barked their electronically distorted words of warning: “Everyone please remain calm and make your way inside in an orderly fashion. We need to get inside before it rains. Help is on the way.” That last part was a lie, but it was one the troops had been told as if it were a truth, and that helped them convey it with reassuring sincerity.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:28 pm 
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by Sarah

Everyone was squished into the box car like an overstuffed can of sardines; all mashed in together so that every single speck of space was crammed with sweaty, panicked bodies. The mass, reeking of body odor, fecal matter, and urine, made every breath a choking one as the sweltering heat of combined bodies began to stifle and strangle them all. Voices cried out, calling for loved ones, calling to be let out of the tin can they had found themselves caged in, calling out to whatever gods above might be listening.

Sarah had been forced to stand, mashed between bodies and the side paneling of the box car. It was difficult to breath, her mind drifted in desperate want of distraction. Thinking back to her high school, her arts class had done a project on the holocaust; they were to create displays of what might have been seen from those days. Her project had consisted of a porcelain doll who's face she had smudged, stripped of its clothing and stained with tea, otherwise making it looked very much used, abused, and loved by whatever child might have had a hold of it. She had drawn charcoal sketches of what a person might have seen, staring out the hole of a wooden-made box car, while they were being shipped off to the concentration camps... She had even gone so far as to write on dirty, crumpled paper the feelings and thoughts that might have been going through that person’s head... as if they actually existed, as if they had told her their story....

A rueful smile momentarily tugged at her lips; if she was ever asked to do that project again, she would surely get an A+ for the detail she could describe now... even without her vision. It was ironic how everything in the world constantly changed yet... everything stayed exactly the same; for a while now she had been under the notion that people would eventually destroy themselves. Humans were disgusting. They were a plague upon the Earth. They had no sense of honor or pride. They held no compassion, no dignity. They didn't understand the meaning of the word sacred… or beautiful... They were lower than animals.

We are all just getting what we deserve. The words whispered through her mind as she tiredly sagged against the wall even as the train began to slow as it pulled into the next station. Sarah had hoped that perhaps, maybe, she would be exempted from the mass of mindless prats that were milling about her, ...thinking those that had died in the initial blast were truly the lucky ones... for they didn't know what was going on now. They didn't have to suffer through these events like the rest of their kin.

A stab of mournful pain pierced her heart; she was thinking of her family again. Were they perhaps among those on the train? Would she ever know their embraces again? Had they perished in the blast, or were they suffering from the radiation poisoning? What of her pets back home? the surrounding animals? children and babies... What would all become of those she considered to be the true meaning of innocent?

Tears prickled hotly at her unseeing eyes, causing her to blink as her face crumpled from its reserved mask into one of sheer pain and sadness. Never before had she believed in a God or any sort of religion. She had found religion to be too commercialized, too self righteous. No one was listening to the messages of their own religions; all were just hell-bent on proving who was right and who was wrong. She wished she had something tangible to believe in now.

The train stopped. Eventually she escaped the stinky confines of the box car to the platform and marched slowly along with the procession. She was searched, poked and prodded to ensure she wasn't a carrier of poison or disease, and all that was found wrong with her was that her eyes barely registered anything; only being able to see the flashlights shone into them as if from a extremely dim bulb that barely allowed for outlines of people or things.

Fumbling her way along, there were many times when she tripped, fell, stumbled, bumped into and toppled over the people before her. Harsh words blared in her direction, fists and feet thumped against her, thinking her a bumbling fool before realizing her disability... Some took pity, others called for her death, seeing her blindness as a weakness; a sickness that should be cast out of their ranks so that the resources could be left for those who had nothing wrong with them at all.

Finally she managed to collapse upon an empty cot, wishing death on those around her for their own stupidity... It was because of them that she was blind, because of them that she would never see her family again... Curling up in a ball upon the lumpy thin mat, the springs digging painfully into her side, she waited to either be shipped out again or for death to claim her as she figured was rightly deserved.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:32 pm 
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As they entered the first airlocks of the metal skeleton of a survivalist's camp, everyone passed through metal detectors, then were required to surrender their possessions for customs inspections to ensure no one was carrying any weapons. Next, they were stripped of their clothing and politely advised that it was to avoid the potential for radiation sickness spreading amongst them. Their clothing quickly incinerated in a separate hangar's burn barrels a block away, they were mass-showered with the low-pressure hoses from military and airport fire engines, after which they were dried only by the wind. Entering deeper airlocks and corridors still, they began to spread out a bit as they were handed one-size-fits-all prison-style garments, like Karate Gis or Japanese Kimonos, all of which were blank, dull earth tones chosen specifically for the psychological effects of those calming colors. Once inside the main hangars, the tens of thousands of refugees were given briefings on where the toilets were, how to take a "Navy shower" (one burst of water, soaping up for one minute, followed by one slightly longer burst of water to wash off the soap) to conserve what little their camp could find and maintain, and how they were to remain in assigned areas, sleep on assigned cots, and politely keep watch over one another to help with the overburdened guards protecting them at their towers and roving stations around the camp's perimeter.

As the wailing and bickering, infighting and petty thievery subsided (with the assistance of a few proportional escalations of force on the part of the troops), the huddled mass of evacuees began to comfort one another, offering to help adjacent people walk if they were limping, and offering to hold their hands if they were crying or unable to find their loved ones. A few veterans gave up their rations of water and food boxes. Those who had snacks on them began to split them. Many of them understood that if they took care of their neighbors, the rioting and starvation would be held at bay much longer.

One of the soldiers manning the interior of the hangar, and helping with the briefings and ensuring everyone reached a cot of their own, saw that Sarah was one of the many blinded by the flashes, and quickly made his way through the incoming crowd to put his arm around her and introduce himself by his full rank and name. He was unusually chivalrous and well-spoken for an enlistedman, but it was no cover, front, or ploy to take advantage of her. He was just one of those idealists who loved to rush in and help others; a selfless crusader, and, perhaps, one of a now truly dying breed.

Once he'd gotten her to her cot and helped her learn the area around it by guiding her hands to touch things, he assured her with a very steady voice that his unit had been trained for things just like this, and had helped other countries' peoples with things like this, and that all disasters pass, and that though he would be busy for a long time, he would keep passing by to check on her in particular. Reminding her of his rank and name, he gave her a tight hug and moved on.

Camps like Sarah's were all over the United States, and the evacuation from the urban areas was a national one. Other countries were starting to follow suit; several other major civilized areas having been hit by similar explosions. The scenes immediately around their epicenters were truly of "Hell on Earth"; every imaginable and unimaginable atrocity overlapping and feeding on one another such that the situation was completely unsalvageable. All of the targeted cities were lost. The troops maneuvering back into them, driving over the rubble of entire neighborhoods and office districts, were barely able to do their jobs even when they ignored all of those damned souls trapped and nearing their last breaths. The few pets and strays who weren't vaporized, crippled, and puking out all their own organs were now turning on one another for food. Many of them had gone completely rabid and insane; the energy blasts having fried their mental circuitry.

The military and other authority figures did their best to be understanding of the overwhelming misplaced anger and disquieting ill-wishing of the peoples they were trying to preserve, but within mere days of the evacuations being completed to the best of the crippled nation's abilities, almost all of the FEMA camps were hit by nuclear weapons, too, and those that weren't were decimated by sink holes, ball-lightning, energy vortexes, tornadoes, spontaneous combustions, freak accidents, and the outbreaks of lethal diseases that started with smallpox and escalated into Ebola and Hunter. The guards were quick to identify, isolate, and incinerate those infected, but most camps fell regardless; some even suffering from zombie-like outbreaks worse than any of the movies.

So many wondered how this could be allowed by the deities they had so faithfully followed the supposed teachings of. In 2011, the World Bank had finally declared bankruptcy, and NATO had been disbanded. A large number of North Americans had left the country on a permanent exodus to lands unknown, creating a mobile war from their growing, rag-tag convoy of retrofitted and stolen vehicles, which had included many military ones stolen by deserters from bases like Camp Pendleton and Twentynine Palms. America's 2nd Civil War had broken out, partially in an effort to stop them. The Monsanto corporation had nearly bankrupted all of the farmers around the world. And now many of the 300 million who remained in America suspected many of the conspiracy theories media-flooded out to them, such as ones claiming certainty that Monsanto's GMO work had been masterminded by Congress and the Freemasons, and that the union troops had finally decided to use nuclear weapons against their own lands and people in a desperate attempt to restore order just as they had with Japan during World War II. The fact that in the Spring, just a couple months past, the U.N. Constitution had been ratified, and the first world government established, along with the first issuing of the long-predicted Amero and Asio currencies, did not help this viral paranoia and unrest. And now, to add the icing to the proverbial cake, in the middle of a civil war gone nuclear, with no help coming from 200 other dying nations, even the best, fully organized evacuation efforts of the greatest power on the planet, were coming apart at the seams. What was once a race of 8 billion and growing... was now knocked down to 7... and slowly starting to drop even lower than that.

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:44 pm 
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by Sarah

The arrival had been less than appealing. Sarah was mortified by the fact she had had to get naked with the dozens of other lost souls, some of which who still had their eye sight. Everything in her body was screaming to be hidden away, back beneath that protective barrier of cloth that society had made her become accustomed to since she was an infant. It was as if without that barrier of cloth, she was a thousand times more vulnerable, and her limbs were doing a **** poor job of covering up her feminine bits.

She had gasped when she was showered down with the hose with those other bodies, and shivered as the air licked at her young, milky flesh. Despite that it was one of the most mortifying things to happen to a 16 year old girl, apart from being blinded and having no idea where on Earth you were or who was around you, being naked among the masses was a rather exhilarating feeling, at least once you got past the original mortification. She couldn't deny the budding of her nipples as areolas scrunched up against both cold and arousal, the way the fine hairs covering her body began to stand on end, or the nerves prickling and tingling like static electricity was crawling all over them. This was only further acknowledged and accepted by Sarah when she didn't hear any taunting calls thrown her way, as often the girls in her gym class had done; she hadn't been the most popular chick at school, which was the only reason why she was teased, beside the most obvious fact that the other girls were jealous, hateful *******.

Somehow she had managed to work the clothes she was given onto her slender, unblemished body, tying it into place as she continued to follow along behind those she sensed around her. That was up until she felt a strong arm envelope her shoulders. At first there had been a flash of hope that one of her brothers or her father had found her, but as the voice began to speak, she realized that it was a stranger that was holding onto her. Perhaps she should have been more nervous about the fact that a man she couldn't see and didn't know was leading her around, but his arm around her was comforting, and his voice was offering friendship that her soul instantly clung to like a life preserver.

He started her on the path to learning how to once more function on her own, encouraged her to reach out and touch things which before she had been too frightened to for fear of what her hands might come into contact with. Her eyesight was taken, but that didn't mean that it paralyzed her other senses, which she was beginning to realize her own body was heightening in order to make up for the one that was lost. He brought her to a cot, spoke his name again so she would not forget it, and offered her a sense of security by saying he would return to check on her in between his other duties. This selfless gesture from him nearly brought tears to the young girl's eyes, and she thought for a moment perhaps not all of the human race deserved to die.

There was not much for anyone to do; a lot of the time, things were quiet; people murmuring amongst themselves, sleeping, sharing rations. Sarah spent most of her time learning how to get to and from her cot; a few times she had ended up lost and needed to be escorted back to her sector, but she was learning slowly and surely. Always she kept an ear out for that sweet male voice that had spoken to her when she first entered into the protection zone, her heart leaping every time she heard it, and a smile exploding across her lips. She had no idea if he was young or old, what he looked like, what color his eyes were, where he was from... but these things didn't matter. He was a beacon of hope for her, he was something to look forward to, someone to work hard for and show improvements in her skills to. Their friendship was something to keep her going, keeping her mind occupied and away from wallowing in self pity... like so many other lost souls around her still certainly were.

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Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:49 pm 
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The Harvesting of the Campers:

The friendly soldier, like many others of his same philosophical persuasion, began to open up to Sarah and the others entrusted in his care. Rather than merely supervise and command them, he mentored and counseled them. There were a few who had been doctors, psychologists, and other certified professionals of high and stately degrees who’d made themselves and their services known and free during their tenure in the camps, but they were always in extremely high demand and extremely scarce and brief supply. Even with their many additional years of formal schooling, cultural and vocational submersion, technical know-how, and extracurricular wisdom and insight, they were still, ultimately, just more bodies needed for the human conveyor belts ferrying in all the potable water and other salvaged or salvageable materials needed to maintain the safety and nutritional needs of the camps. So it was largely left up to the soldiers like Sarah’s new voluntary guardian to serve as her physical and emotional punching bag, the living tool to let her vent her core, and the flak jacket to absorb any and all of her likely outbursts and breakdowns.

No one she’d known, be they kin, colleague, or coworker, had shown up in her camp, and information about who had been saved and where they were, or even where the other camps were, was nonexistent. The EMPs from the handful of nuclear detonations had permanently knocked out all of modern man’s communication and computation devices, to include the parts that made most automobiles, aircrafts, and even flashlights and calculators function. The few military field radios remote and shielded enough to survive were guarded as fanatically as the drinking water dispersal convoys, and what few communications they sent were nearly constant, back-to-back ‘radio checks’, ‘situation reports’, and cryptic ‘position reports’, all reserved for the still-living, still non-deserting chain of command.

All American military personnel abroad had been called back to CONUS. All special operations units, from Rangers and Delta, the Green Berets and Recon, the SWAT teams and Scout Snipers, SWIC and the SEALs, to the Para-rescue Jumpers and Combat Controllers; all were re-tasked as forward observers re-mapping the radiated, sterile, compromised, safe, passable, and forbidden zones of the greatly altered country. All highways had been shut down other than for military traffic, to include tank convoys mobilizing to secure America’s now far more vulnerable borders (ironically, this was precisely what America’s highways had been designed for in the first place, when their bill had first been signed into law by Congress). All commercial aircraft had been commandeered by the federal government to fly relief missions of supplies going one way and evacuees going the other, and every one of those large jet-liners had fighter-jet escort squadrons no matter where they were headed or what they were carrying. International flights had been altogether banned by the FAA, save those bringing the troop units home. The same restrictions were put on all maritime traffic; only American warships were allowed to return, with all others being escorted to anchor off the coast at the minimum safe distance in case any of them were carrying additional nuclear payloads.

The extensive subterranean network of the more advanced versions of NORAD were kept classified and unused by the evacuees, though, remaining silently at work, managing the world several dozen stories under many of the American town’s and FEMA camp’s feet. Even when most of the FEMA camps were destroyed in the full spectrum of obviously coordinated, surgical strikes, America’s literal Underground remained off-limits, reserved for a far worse scenario.

Word was finally relayed to the populations of the surviving camps that 1) only a dozen major cities were hit, 2) most nations were not attacked, 3) the radiation would drop to safe levels over the next few months, 4) a majority of the government officials had made it to the safety of alternative command and control facilities, 5) a majority of the American people had not been in the cities or in the path of the fallout, and 6) identification, reunification, and medical screenings were already in full-swing. Some camp commanders even offered their evacuees further words of hope; that they anticipated being able to use the same trains to relocate all those now homeless and nomadic to temporary communities once reserved for urban warfare training, political exiles, and climate refugees. FEMA had rapidly applied all it had learned from the Mt. St. Helens eruption and Hurricane Katrina, and had enlisted the aid of the entire American population, as far out as their personnel could drive and call, deputizing and conscripting everyone from the age of 10 to 60.

On the global scale, world leaders were not pointing fingers or making knee-jerk reactions. Nuclear ICBMs were not flying back and forth between vengeful, heated superpowers. And even in the nations no longer able to count on foreign aid, the majority of their people were not engaged in the eruptions of warfare over what little food, water, and electricity remained for them; most of the Earth was still void of human civilization and all of its woes and conflicts, although many battles and wars were clearly igniting and expanding in certain areas during this time.

Wild animals such as the starving, rabid, irradiated strays were always a threat, and all animals were shot on sight from the watch towers, as were any people trying to escape or nearing the guards enough to risk contamination or injury of either party. Riot rounds, zip-ties, and tear gas were used first, but lethal force was always an authorized option. The few camps that had enough electrical generators hooked them up to their fences; it was an effort to both keep people in so they didn’t wander off and add themselves to the national problem, and any unfortunate creatures from the outside out. Once or twice a day, Sarah’s soldier and new guardian would come off his shift and escort her to either the ration stockpile, or the make-shift cafeteria in the adjoined tents. He would tell her of these things (what little his orders allowed him to), and relate personal anecdotes of the amazing things people in history and in his own family had accomplished and shared with others despite their accidents and disabilities. He never went so far as to compliment Sarah’s physical beauty, as he felt that would be crossing a very forbidden line under the present circumstances, but he made every approach and attempt to bolster her spirit and restore her pride. “We’ve all lost people we love, Sarah, but life goes on, and sometimes we find them later on, and things get better than they ever were before. …And even if we don’t always find what we want, we almost always find new friends and situations that still fill us with all the greatest feelings. We are never just on our own; never just out of luck.”

One night, as Sarah’s soldier was silently passing by her cot to ensure she’d made it to sleep alright, the faint sounds of trouble outside their hangar reached his keen ears, and he quietly rushed off to join forces with any of his fellow Army soldiers still manning the perimeter. Bursts of lasers so rapid they could not be seen or heard left many of the soldiers, despite their full body armor, dropping to their knees or stumbling over backwards, as if their own bodyweight had become like a limp sack of potatoes; they’d been shot clean-through by the invisible energy beams that had disconnected their brains and cauterized the tunneling wounds. Self-guiding missiles homed in on their radio equipment and blew it to smithereens, giving off the only sounds of trouble and fighting. Just as quickly, all of their flood lights were shot out, and the generators powering them and the rest of the camp disabled by teams of men clad in full-body suits of overlapping armor that looked somewhat like that of the Imperial Storm Troopers of Star Wars. In a matter of minutes, the entire camp had been overwhelmed, all of its military personnel killed and left to rot out in the open, and the evacuee holding hangars surrounded.

This siege was not that of the Inisfreeans, for that wondrous, faraway city of technological wizardry and demi-godhood had not yet been established, nor any of its people born or even conceived, but these militarily advanced troops were their predecessors, and were agents of their soon-to-be Governor, whose initial entrepreneurial endeavors had led to the Blackwater-styled private security contracting companies that had profiled, trained, armed, and dispatched them. These troops were all males, as well, unlike the all-female military force of the soon-to-emerge super-city, but they were not cloned. The clones had not yet come, although many human clones had been successfully made and used by companies like Manticore. These male troops and their leader had used this ‘Jericho event’ to sneak out from their sleeper cell locations all around the world, moving in on the blindsided American superpower, and were now testing more of their inventions and tactics which were being recorded by supercomputers in real-time, and which would later be mastered and incorporated into the Apocalypse War half a year in the future for Antarctica’s independence.

Those few camp residents awake at that extremely late hour, most of whom were just stirring to use to porta-potties outside their hangar or tents, were quickly dispatched by silenced submachinegun fire. The hostile force, closing in on the entry points of every tent and hangar now, looked almost like a collection of copies of the Iron Man suit from the famous motion picture, minus the hand-jets and flashy paintjob. Making dynamic entry, they flowed in through every window and door simultaneously, and began knifing and silently shooting everyone along the way that did not meet their criteria, and doing so in such ways as to ensure their blade and bullet penetrations made it impossible for their victim’s bodies to scream and alert the others still asleep. Their mission objectives were clear and uncompromising; there was no room for opinion or error. Once they got to Sarah, they woke her by dragging her off her cot to slam her butt down onto the cold hangar floor. She might call out in confusion or anger, or in a frantic plea for the kind soldier who had instinctively taken her under his wing, but all she would ever know of him after this point was the feeling of being dragged over his lifeless body, which she likely would not even know was him.

In the pitch black night’s darkness outside the now-powerless FEMA camp, the few hundred civilians, chosen somehow by the orders hidden in the minds of the armor-suited black-ops unit, were dragged by their ankles or hair through the perimeter fences which had been flattened or peeled open by robotically-enhanced hands. Massive, shadowy vehicles reminiscent of RVs or mobile homes fused with logistics vans and artillery tanks waited just outside the edge of the camp’s property. All of their engines were silent, and all of their lights were off –except, of course, for their infra-red flood-lights, which illuminated the entire area for miles in all directions, but in a part of the spectrum none of the humans could see. Their conquering captors, however, could see it all clear as high noon, due to their locked-on helmets which made the IR spectrum (and all other spectrums) instantly and sharply visible to them through their built-in GUI HUDs. Now, virtually everyone of the evacuees was without the luxury of sight, and being dragged over rough, natural terrain, perhaps a few of them making futile attempts to break free from the mechanically-perfected grips of those absconding with them, or even more futile attempts to hurt them via hits, kicks, or bites, all of which were completely ignored and unfelt. Such actions would only bruise, cut, and break the fingers and toes of those doing the attacking, even chipping their teeth in some cases, which none of the troops cared even in the slightest about.

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 12:56 pm 
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by Sarah

It was like something out of a romance novel, in the midst of the most horrific tragedy known to man; a teenage girl finds a reason to keep hope and falls unexpectedly in love. It had all the juiciness of a soap opera; a forbidden love between a soldier and a girl he is sworn to protect. There was also most certainly an age difference that also brought on a hint of drama and the fact that they could never really get any time alone; being constantly surrounded by people made it difficult to be really romantic with one another.

Even though she couldn't see his face, his voice told Sarah that he was incredibly handsome, or perhaps she just felt that way due to teenage hormones running wild, and an infatuation had been built because he was being so kind and caring toward her. Never once did he look down on her for any angry outburst she threw at him in frustration of not being able to see or not being able to maneuver in a certain way. Not once had he made an inappropriate gesture towards her, always speaking to her with an encouraging kindness that she had thought only existed in fairytales and the anime shows she used to watch.

Little did she know that this blossoming romance was soon to turn into a romantic tragedy. Just when things had seemed to be turning down a path of revelations, everything was once more snatched out from beneath her fingers. The night she had meant to quietly express the depths of her feelings for the kindly solider became an instant nightmare that she would look back upon with sadness but understanding.

The feel of strange hands upon her body instantly woke her from the slumber that had stolen her while she waited for the solider to pass. At first she thought it was him. Had something happened? Were they under attack? In almost a sluggish manner she started to ask what was going on until she was rudely tossed to the hard, cold floor which brought her to full consciousness and the sickening awareness that it was not friendly hands that were touching her. Sarah did scream and start to struggle against the hand that locked around her ankle and began to drag her over the still warm lumps of fallen bodies that hadn't met their criteria, though at the time her mind was too panicked to realize what they were.

She screamed, she called for her hero's name, she kicked against the hand that was holding her only to suffer a shooting pain through the leg that was doing the kicking as if she had broken something. After a while she just stopped fighting and let herself be dragged, her skin chaffing against the ground as she tried to refrain from eating mouthfuls of dirt or from breathing anymore in.

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 1:01 pm 
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THERE WAS NO LIME:
So many had been snuffed out in their surgical, silent attack, and so few traces of an enemy presence left behind that it was as if ghosts had vanquished the entire FEMA camp, and the only ones left alive and able to scream didn't matter or alert any nearby help, for they were all the ones being dragged by impossibly strong, robotically-assisted grips, out of their encampment and back into the deadly outside world and its indiscriminately blinding night. Those who were not blind had burlap bags cinched down over their heads, tied off snugly around their necks. Everyone was hog-tied with restraints that seemed slightly elastic yet unbreakable. The larger and stronger, heartier captives were beaten and stunned with electricity to the point that they wouldn't even be able to stand, let alone pose any opposition. Those who continued to scream or otherwise make noise were punched in their throats and kidneys until they understood. Their captors did not fear having noises give their position away, for everything within a dozen miles of the camp was dead, and no human detection methods would pick up their suits or vehicles. That, and they had enough custom, illegally modified firepower to level half a nation if need-be.

Sarah, along with all the others, was once again relieved of the second skin and security blanket her mind had considered her clothing to be. Stripped of her one-size-fits-all prison-style garments, she was inspected in a form close to molestation, and shackled while all of her orifices were inspected just the same, to include having fingers and medical probes inserted into her ****** and ****. Any time she made a noise of protest or discomfort, she received yet another punch in the kidney, or a vicious slap across the face so hard it made her ears ring. No verbal commands were issued. No verbal communications from her or any of the other American captives were responded to (or tolerated) either.

The sturdy captors –quiet professionals to no end- began to carry on dialogues where their prisoners could hear. It was up to Sarah and the other captives to decide if this was ‘mind-fucking’; psy-ops, a careless and complacent violation of OPSEC, or something else entirely. The captors left out mention only a few of their directives, such as the one that advises ‘**** or be raped’, ‘collect spoils of war for yourselves or become the spoils of war’, and many more to that effect, such as Richard Marcinko’s law of special warfare ‘There Are No Rules - Thou Shalt Win At All Costs’. However, their low, casual, smooth baritone voices just barely set above whispers, as they had been trained to speak most times, spoke many other things clearly; they were having fun, this had been a long time coming, and many of the ancient secret societies only vaguely alluded to in movies and internet websites were apparently deeply involved. Some of the captors began to wonder if this was a trick to make them doubt their wounded nation, or the casual revelation that they had been pawns to be harvested all along, or something even direr, such as aliens, demons, or beyond.

With everyone now blindfolded (or blind), gagged and bound, naked and lying however they had been beaten down, small puffs and flutters, like the rapid flapping of tiny wings, began to occur at odd intervals slowly making their way closer and closer to Sarah’s position on the cold, rocky earth far outside the leveled fences of her camp. The smells of cordite, hot brass, bile, burning meat, and heavy sweating assaulted her nostrils, and was quickly joined by the familiar smells of more urine and feces which she had first encountered on the emergency evacuation train cars. The sounds of limp, heavy sacks, gasps, and gurgles, splashes of something fluid and amorphous hitting sludgy puddles just a few feet behind her and below ground level came next. Then, after several minutes of this, the sounds of occasional skulls clacking against other skulls or knee caps came next. If Sarah’s mind was astute enough, it would soon create a picture for her of what was unmistakably a brand new and rapidly filling mass-grave, of which she now sat naked right along the lip of.

Organs were spilling out. Others were being ripped out. Some were collected. Others were tossed aside. Pelican cases full of vials, beakers, and Ziploc bags were packed to the brim with the samples of the recently deceased. Those who began to **** and **** themselves were instantly made to stand, and had catheters forced into them to collect what they released while their blood was being drained. Though Sarah could not know this, only several dozen remained alive, unsampled, and guarded.

THE CONVOY LEAVES:
Those who weren’t teenagers, and weren’t tossed or shoved into the mass-grave, were gutted, hung by nooses of their own intestines, freed of their eyes and ears, dragged behind the stocky war trucks, or super-glued and strapped all around them to ensure that any attempt to attack their assets would result in catastrophic, grizzly physical harm to their civilian prisoners, not to mention the psychological devastation stacked upon those near enough them to smell their hissing, phosphorous-steaming wounds, and to hear their helpless, blood-gurgling cries cacophonously precluded by nothing as the precursors to their inevitable death rattles. Side by side, they manned the exteriors of these vehicles; the ‘scare-humans’ designed to frighten other humans back away, like the scare-crows farmers of their falling Age had once, not many days ago, still used.

The dozens of teenagers, all females, were the only ones spared from these other procedures, and all were dragged inside the oversized, bus-like war-vehicles, up their textured troop-ramps leaving light scrapes and bruises all over them as the uniform sound and vibration of the marching, armor-clad boots of their abductors concluded the raid. The ramps quietly raised and sealed behind them, and, still blind or blindfolded, they were each tossed into their own cage welded into the interior plating of their vehicle’s cargo chambers, and the proud and merry, mightily laughing guards double-checked their full-body shackles, slammed the locking cage doors shut, and walked off to attend more duties elsewhere in the large vehicles as their subtle rumbling and the feelings in the girls’ bellies indicated gradual forward acceleration.

Inside the vehicles, and all around them, constant blood, hair, urine, saliva, finger- and toe-nail, and skin cell samples were taken, just as they had been from those who were left in the mass-grave, for it was still a time for W.G.I. when they had not yet developed alternative means of cloning and human-engineering. The brutal raping and barbaric interrogation methods were constant, as well. People were skinned alive, forced to overdose on narcotics, doused in scalding acid, lit on fire, and slowly fed to wild animals while both were locked in cramped, iron cages. The mass graves they had driven away from were not covered in lime, nor were they lit ablaze; they were left open and festering, stewing with bile, lost bowels, vomit, entrails and urine of those petrified souls whose toes had been creeping over the slimy, guts-encrusted edges of the shallow, earthen landfills of the meat and marrow of the ‘manimals’. The time for the global ‘breaking of the fever had come’; the time for the accelerated purging of the virus known as man was underway, and Gaia certainly was not in protest.

The portal technology was not yet available to these troops who even outranked the all-black, unlabeled, unregistered, contract mercenaries of the shadow governments, but their technology was, all the same, far superior, and allowed them to move with greater stealth, coordination, and encryption, beyond anything the forensic scientists could work with, and beyond anything the criminal psychologists could understand. It wasn’t yet the hive mind envisioned by their leader, but it was close, and it bordered on something just past the understanding of a collective serial killer cult; a real-time copycat killer like a doppelgänger or omni-present Angel of Death.

REMOVED FROM HER CAGE:
It was silent for a few minutes, as their enslavement vehicle quietly hummed, rocked, and negotiated whatever terrain it was traversing outside. There were no sounds of activity anywhere inside Sarah’s hallway-like chamber lined with teenage-girl-filled cages. The air was growing warm and stale, for the ventilation had intentionally been kept to an absolute minimum to keep the captives light-headed and weak. “PRISONER!” a booming voice that could not possibly have come from any man blasted Sarah from point blank range, as if it was almost inside her own head, or, at least, merely a few inches from her face, despite the fact that she was still shacked inside her tight-fitting cage. A rough hand slapped her across her face, a metallic boot pushed one of her feet and legs out of the way, and another hand slapped her exposed ***** with such a force as to knock all the wind out of her. Her shackles remained on, but somehow came free of their bindings to the cage and the wall behind her, and she was yanked out by her hair while some other unseen guard of large proportions took hold of her pinky fingers and hooked on of his oversized, armor-gloved fingers into her *******. This was how they escorted prisoners. The words they chose, along with their volume and unannounced entries, were just more mental tricks along the lines of ‘shock and awe’; modern spells for modern man.

A hatch unlocked and slid into a wall, opening up a pathway for Sarah and her brutal escorts. Her ******* would already be sore and threatening to tear. Her head would be held all the way back, as if to keep her looking straight up at the ceiling as they prodded and nudged her walking straight forward. The hatch slid back out of the wall, locking behind them. With her limited sight, it would still appear completely black all around her. She would feel her knees bump into a solid panel, and then the finger in her ******* would flex and lift her lower body up by its hook, as the hands holding her pinky fingers released, and as the fist clenching all of her hair lifted her upper body by her scalp and pushed her head forward, releasing her hair as she fell forward onto the flat operating table. Her shackles were immediately locked down around the corners and edges of the table. Something electrical sounding was followed by all of her shackles tightening and stretching out her limbs spread-eagled. Electrodes like those the EMTs in ambulances use were placed in several spots around her body, and a helmet was placed over her head which began to swell around her scalp until it felt almost like a blood-pressure band. This time, a voice that sounded like it was originating from between her ears –inside her own head- sounded in a still commanding, but slightly less menacing or damning tone: “Answer truthfully. We see all lies.” It was no lie to pressure her into helping them develop their technology; they would be able to see what her mind was seeing. Having her verbalize it was another test and purpose entirely.

THE TEST BEGINS:
One of the many purposes of this mission she had unwittingly become a part of, was to test the first ‘mind interfaces’ on the humans that DARPA and the USAF had originally proposed. Since Sarah was blind, she was a perfect candidate for this; completely incapable of relying on humanity’s primary sense, she would have to see things only in her mind, proving whether or not the technology worked on her type of brain. The voice in her head asked her to describe what she was seeing. At first the images were just blurs or static or didn’t show up at all, but adjustments were made somewhere else in her new chamber of the still slightly rocking vehicle, and when she finally saw the images in her mind and described them correctly, her captors took note and sent off the needed reports, tweaking the new technology for later. Sarah would continue to see shapes, creatures, and colors, and feel sensations that could not be described in her language; she would even feels afraid or happy suddenly, and then feel some of her muscles flexing on their own. The ‘mind interface’ test on her, one of millions of subjects, had been completed for now.

A needle was poked into her arm, and coolness rushed in through its tiny hole, spreading through her local blood vessels until she felt a tingling in her eyes. The darkness suddenly became dull gray, and then amoebic blurs of color. Finally, the lights in the room began to brighten very slightly and slowly, allowing her to see the front edge of the table she was lying stomach-down against, and her forearms and hands, shackled out at angles to either side of her head. The tingling in her eyes faded until it was no more, and for the first time, she was allowed to see the full-body armor suits of her captors, and like space-age knights they did appear. Like the fabled tales of the Jesus human restoring sight to the blind, now these battle-suited raiders had done just the same.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS, ‘EYES ON’:
All identical in every aspect and dimension, with no human parts visible even in the slightest, they stood tall and proud within suits similar to the M.A.N.T.I.S. or Iron Mar exoskeletons, minus, of course, the hand-jets. Still called Ghost suits, they would later be dubbed Storm Trooper suits, or ‘S-T’s’ for short. Their masks were similar to the Predator mask from the movie saga of the same name, and they had been built from reverse engineering those very things, recovered during hellacious battles. With them, they could see in the entire spectrum, rather than just in visible and I-R. There were no Repulsines built into them yet, nor any teleporters or mind-reading devices, but they did have eye-reading software, as well as facial-recognition, heartbeat sensors, projectile reverse trajectory plotting, and echo triangulation, making them the most lethal counter-snipers and recon-hunters the world had ever known. And although on their forearms were mounted cylindrical gauntlets packed full of various weapon and targeting systems, they still carried assault rifles, although their version of those ‘small arms’ were a bit wider, bulkier, lighter, and more devastating than the human equivalents; these rifles fired bullets, lasers, streams of jellied gasoline, plasma, smart-grenades, and sonic streams capable of pushing and cutting. Later upgrades would also fire microwave beams, fear-inducing beams, ion streams, and include PPCs, along with a whole other arsenal of space-age weaponry.

In an odd turn of events, those who had treated her the worst, and who were secretly responsible for the nuclear obliteration of her city, as well as the cold-blooded murder of her guardian angel soldier friend, had restored her sight and spared her from one of the follow-up waves of carnage and extermination. Stripping her naked and roughly handling her had begun to improve her immune system and calluses, and the fresh air she’d had to sleep in far outside her city had allowed the cilia in her lungs to start restoring those precious organs to their rightful pink status.

And although she would never be told this by any of them, Sarah would later find out that this advanced military force was not wiping out mankind, or waging a jihad against the Christians, or attempting to replace the power structure of the American superpower, nor were they upset with democracy or the freedoms enjoyed by any of the peoples they had rounded up and dispatched. They had only tested their nukes, their overriding of foreign UAVs, their suppressor technology, their omni-optics, and their ability-enhancing armor suits that would one day lead to the Spartan program and its Mjolnir armor. These rogue warriors had only knocked out communications temporarily to move in their ground forces covertly, just as the Americans had done in the Gulf War when their F-117 Nighthawk stealth aircraft took out the Iraqi army’s radar sites so their AH-64 Apache helicopters could then move in, followed by their special operatives who worked with the British SAS to take out all of the SCUDs. It was a repeat of history, only this time America was on the receiving end of their own tactics; a taste of their own military medicine. Not a revenge, or even karma, it was just the confirmation methods chosen by their bullish successors.

CATTLE DRIVE:
At some point along their unknown route through the American plains, the large, bus-like vehicle slowed to a halt; all of the naked girls shackled in their cages feeling it through their bodies; the militant, drum-like march of armored boots striking the semi-flexible, hard panel flooring of their cage chamber alerting them to the fact that more abusive guidance was fast approaching. One girl’s was emotionlessly informed: “You are the property of the new King now.” It was just so the guards could enjoy her wilting reaction, and right in front of all the others, she was raped 50 times before they reach their next destination; the next stopping point across the ravaged American plains where they continued to scan for stray humans that weren’t collected by the FEMA trains and camps. If they detected any, they paused only long enough to round them up, make them kill each other after digging their own graves, and moved on. All of the girls were made to watch. All of their sight had been restored. Anyone that looked away was forced to beat another girl senseless, who was forced to stand at attention and ‘just take it’. There were also mass-punishments which included water-boarding and branding, tattooing barcodes on their foreheads, and shaving them completely bald to include their eyebrows. One violator was deemed so offensive that she was hung by a meat hook in her *******, dangling from the ceiling with hand- and ankle-cuffs locked together, bleeding out anally and screaming hysterically only feet away from all the other caged girls.

Another halt resulted in a large group of country folk being shackled together like horses drawing a sleigh, after which point they were made to walk together behind the vehicles until they began to drop and die, many of them being dragged for miles before their bodies finally stopped working and started to stretch and break apart. Yet another halt resulted in Sarah and some of the other girls being escorted out of their cages, down the troop ramps, and out to stand along the side of the tall vehicle they had been in this whole trip. Facial and genetic recognition devices had shown a high likelihood that the stray humans they’d just detected were related to the girls they’d already captured, and Sarah that day, with her restored, crystal clear vision, watched as her family (who had been hitch-hiking and wandering away from the fallout zone of their city) was forced to fight each other to the death, lest their Sarah be slowly cooked upon a rotating spit and fed to them. It was no idle threat; word had already spread that these troops had been doing that to many hundreds of thousands of people already. The remains were tied to the human-cattle chains, and their convoy drove on. Some thought of The Trail of Tears, and figured the gods were being coldly fair; returning the ‘favor’ they had bestowed upon the Natives across these lands many generations ago. Perhaps… but who could know?

SARAH SET FREE:
Others locked away in Sarah’s captivity vehicle had their minds erased and completely refilled with pre-programmed personalities. Sarah was one of the girls randomly chosen to be released to tell her story. It didn’t matter to her captors if she was locked away in an asylum, overmedicated and told to keep quiet, or if her words were believed and created the metastasizing splash-damage of a horror wave. She was unbound and on her own now, simply pointed in the direction of the nearest, radiation-free city, and abandoned by those who had so thoroughly violated her. She would have to make sense of it all –of everything that had just happened to her and her country- over the next half year that humanity (completely ignorant of this fact) had left. Having been raped countless times before her release, she would also have to find a way to get past the Outlander brainwashing that often led females to believe that once raped, they’d been wronged, or that their value had been permanently reduced. Sarah still had a long way to go, and many more trials ahead.

Meanwhile, those evacuated to the safety of the other FEMA camps in the Rex 84 program continued to be mass-executed via more nuclear weapons in some cases, and, when the shadow government wished to be more discreet and randomizing, by orchestrated epidemic outbreaks; things like small-pox contaminations justifying further lock-downs and prolonged decontaminations, while the truth was they were all just waiting for everyone to die. Sarah, whenever she finally made it back into growing groups returning to now vacant, abandoned homesteads daringly close to the suburban outskirts of America’s many cities, would find a population and general technology level significantly reduced, although, eventually, it would become known that only 1 billion globally had died, and only 40 million or so of them in America, leaving nearly 300 million to attempt a heart-wrenching reconstruction which Sarah would be bound by martial law to help with.

In the ‘grey sector’ (corporate America), like Elite Team before it, and like the NSGWP (National Socialist German Workers Party) before that, WGI was officially founded with but a handful of men, hoping to best even Branson and Virgin in their quest to dominate a hundred fields. Becoming a major player in many industrial and political sectors, it grew into an ‘overnight giant’, buying up damaged and relinquished properties, trading lesser technologies and intelligence, and establishing powerful alliances and trade agreements with the government personnel slowly creeping back up out of their doomsday holes. With the shadow government still behind them, WGI greatly aided in the American and global reconstruction, all the while only doing so to ensure a greater amount of battles and data streams in the Apocalypse War they’d been planning in just as much exhaustive detail.

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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 Post subject: Re: Interdependence Day [Tag: Sarah]
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 1:18 pm 
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by Sarah

Perception; it is a fickle thing. What one person perceives as evil, another can perceive as good; all is relative. So it was the same for Sarah; perception was the key to understanding her captors and the horrific trials that had been bestowed upon her while traveling with the convoy. Everything is a blessing in disguise.

When her armor-clad guards had ventured to her cage that day, she had thought for sure she was bound to die. Their actions, though precise to them and probably being followed down to a T, were as chaotic and spontaneous in her eyes as the swells of the ocean in the midst of gale-force winds in the middle of a hurricane. The horrors they had visited upon her, the 'shock and awe' treatment, were still fresh in her mind, working in their favor to complete a task that was unknown to her. She did not yet understand the therapeutic long-term effects of their actions. The beatings she had received, to her had been vile and degrading; the multiple rapes a violation of her person and not to mention the deflowering of her young self; a gift which she had hoped to bestow upon a boy of her choosing... This, too, she would later learn, had been a gift; a salvation from the unknowledagble males of the race of humanimals.

She had listened to the other girls be raped and beaten, as well, watched as a few had been forever marked, brain washed or otherwise tortured to a very slow death for their offenses. She had witnessed the massacre of her family, having been made to stand by and watch while they tore each other apart for her sake. The monstrous captors had restored her vision, and given her body life by the clean oxygen that had been constantly pumped into her cage in meager amounts to keep her weak and light headed. They had fed her uncontaminated food and water, and otherwise rid her body of the unnecessary, vein-choking fats, however limited, that her previous diet and inactive lifestyle had started to breed within her.

Being marched outside the large, bus-like vehicle, clasped in the same manner that she had become accustomed to with the vice-gripping of her pinkies, and the armored finger within her rectum, she had no idea what was in store for her this time. They released her. … For a moment, Sarah stood there in confusion, looking toward her captors with unease as they flung her out away from them. Stumbling several steps, she impacted the earth, scraping her knees and most likely bringing bruises to form later. She looked back upon the armored men who for a moment watched her before turning away to re-enter the bus-like vehicle that had been her prison and torture chamber.

Sarah gazed around herself in a state of complete and utter shock, like a fish that had been moved too quickly from a cold tank to a warm one. Her lungs breathed in what they now recognized to be putrid air; a tangible taste of contamination sitting acidicly upon her tongue and the back of her throat, which would be undetectable to most (to those who had not enjoyed her cage’s purified air). After the spotless holding cages and nearly constant practice of hygiene... this world felt unclean and brought her skin to feel like it wanted to crawl right off of her body and throw itself into the nearest blazing fire with the rest of her form soon to follow.

Clambering to her feet, she glanced around... There was nothing in any direction for miles... She was alone… helpless... weaponless… with only a general direction to go on to get back to a society she had been so viciously ripped from. The armored males moved back onto the ramp and began to disappear back inside the confines of the vehicle. She didn't know what drove her; perhaps her body understood the perils of being left out in the decaying atmosphere, perhaps it was simply her fear of being left alone, but she ran toward the vehicle and the guards moving up the ramp. "No! Please! Wait! Don't leave me here!" she'd call in begging tones to them.

_________________
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree
Neuschwabenland, Antarktis


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