Echo

by J. K. Accinni

  ECHO

  SPECIES INTERVENTION #6609

  J.K. ACCINNI

  Skinny Leopard Media

  Bradenton, FL

  Dedication

  I would like to thank my mom, Jane, for her unflagging support. She never once thought to even question my capabilities. I owe so much to my one true love, Wil, whose honest clear sweetness and support gave me something to live up to. I would like to thank Fate. Without her quixotic magic I would have never met my wonderful, multi-talented editor, Cindy Readnower, of Skinny Leopard Media, Sarasota, Florida.

  I would like to thank the phenomenally talented artists that granted me the rights to their work for my covers, Adam Taylor, United Kingdom, England—Baby; Larissa Elise Bergsma, Netherlands—Echo; Jonas Jedicke, Berlin, Germany—Armageddon Cometh and The One; Terry Rogers, Gainesville, Florida—Hive.

  And lastly, I want to acknowledge my four legged children, Barney, Toby, Molly, Teddy and Echo, and all of my children that are waiting for me over the Rainbow Bridge. They are what bring all the richness and laughter into my life.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ECHO

  SPECIES INTERVENTION #6609

  J.K. Accinni

  A Skinny Leopard Media book published in arrangement with the author, Bradenton, FL.

  Copyright © 2012 J.K. Accinni

  Editing by Skinny Leopard Media

  All rights reserved.

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012947137

  Chapter 1

  2033 AD

  Scotty slipped out his front door unnoticed, easily overlooked if you failed to notice his ringworm and impetigo scars. Barely three and a half feet tall, even at six years old, it put him in the underdeveloped category, another result of the wicked fall his mother took while pregnant with him. The fall initiated his premature birth, keeping him in a grossly understaffed neo natal hospital unit where his tiny body contracted a number of skin diseases that left him scarred and disfigured.

  To add to his misery, his left eye muscles refused to fully develop allowing his eye to wander in its socket, giving him headaches, vision problems and disfiguring facial affects. The fact that his father continued to deny responsibility for his mother’s fall, illustrated the truth of his sister Abby’s claims. His mother married a full-blown leachy weasel.

  Scotty looked up and down the bleak empty hallway, dirty graffiti walls, a testimony to the futility of the lives packed like termites in the ugly utilitarian monstrosity he called home.

  He cautiously peeked in the stairwell. Seeing it empty, he scrambled down the cold metal stairs, his tiny worn sneakers masking his footfalls. Emerging from the gloom of the stairwell, he recoiled from the sudden glare of an unexpectedly sunny afternoon.

  Scooting around to the back of his building, he dodged empty beer cans, used condoms and piles of dog feces to hide in the big cardboard box he currently used as his fort. Yesterday, Chang Appliance, the largest Chinese appliance chain in the world, delivered something to an exceedingly lucky tenant in his building. He and his buddy, Germaine, quickly claimed the treasured empty box, dragging it to the back of their tenement in the giant public housing neighborhood of Short Hills, New Jersey, hoping they could hide it from the big guys. At least long enough to have some fun with it.

  Short Hills, formerly a bastion of affluent homes in the early part of the century, no longer boasted anyone that could afford them. As a result, the Socialized Democrat Party strengthened the urban renewal and eminent domain laws. When the real estate market for large expensive homes (the most visible trapping of despised capitalist pigs) collapsed, due to the exodus of the wealthy to more welcoming countries, the homes were appropriated. After removing the squatters and gangs, the bulldozers made way for what some called inevitable progress. The kind of progress that produced nasty government subsidized housing projects; pretty ironic for a state once known as, The Garden State.

  Now, New Jersey blossomed with one huge hideous urban ghetto after another. Just like many other states undergoing a similar renaissance. Not everyone agreed to call this progress. Like his mother.

  She remembered the stories her grandmother related to her about growing up on a working family farm with cows and hay barns and wide open meadows, replete with the simple harmonies of sunrise crows, twilight crickets and the exceptional fragrance of newly mowed grass and wild wood violets. His great grandmother would spend her summers as a child delving into the woods, looking for wild strawberry patches and black caps growing along the side of the road, probing water holes and brooks for magical polliwogs, turtles, minnows, even snakes that she invariably dragged back to the farmhouse, a favorite pastime.

  Instead, Scotty lived with the perpetual smells of hot air brakes, big rig exhaust and alley rat infested garbage. He got the sounds of gunshots and screams as the bullies of the neighborhood beat on their latest victim. His playground consisted of hot smelly asphalt and discarded cardboard boxes as his playthings.

  Luckily, his mom knew of a few areas that missed out on the progress. Like Sussex County. Full of rolling hills, mountains, packed trout streams and bucolic lakes. It even bragged some surviving timid black bears that penis challenged hunters failed to eradicated in their perpetual attempt to prove their manhood by putting food out for bears in the woods as they waited in trees with their weapons, shot-gunning them down, cubs and all.

  Hardly convenient, the wealthy found the remoteness objectionable, leaving no albatrosses for the government to tear down. The lack of access to mass transit, actually the reason the area stayed rural; undesirable to the masses for the same reason.

  An hour before dinner, Scotty’s parents started fighting again; the same old thing. His mother, one of the four million polio victims in the United States from the epidemic of 2018, frequently tried unsuccessfully to convince his father to relocate. She dreamed about better healthcare and quality of life in a less populated area. Like Sussex County.

  His big sister, Abby, a dialysis patient, needed to get to the hospital three times a week. As a toddler, she developed chronic kidney disease, acute and undoubtedly fatal, requiring her to go in and out of hospitals since a baby. She really needed a kidney transplant but they didn’t have the money to buy one from China or South America like most patients of loftier financial means.

  When the country decided to worship at the altar of socialized medicine, an understandably desperate shortage of doctors ensued. Over utilized emergency rooms with a standard back up of 36 hours on any normal day before the polio epidemic, suddenly morphed into requiring an appointment to get in. Dying before your appointment became common, creating a huge underground market, selling your appointment to the highest bidder. Family allowances limited the amount of doctor visits per year. Inevitably, rationing became as necessary as breathing.

  Simple sore throats or innocuous coughs, easily overlooked by busy adults trying to avoid burning a valuable medical visit, still spread germs. Unfortunately, polio was highly contagious. An airline passenger can infect an entire plane with one phlegmy throat. The government burden of bloated bureaucracy put the final nail in that c
offin.

  The epidemic started because of a Muslim law, passed in 2005, in Northern Nigeria. They issued an Islamic Fatwa, declaring the polio vaccine part of a secret conspiracy by the United States and the United Nations against the Muslim faith. Their claim declared that the vaccine drops, secretly designed to sterilize the Muslim true believers, stimulated the virus. It then reappeared in Nigeria and spread throughout Africa. In this world of high-speed airline transportation it didn’t take long. Legal immigration figures show the number one source of immigrants in the good ol’ U.S.A. to be from Africa. And who could blame them.

  Amazingly, the United States, no longer the current super power, continued to draw the poor from all over the world as the land of milk and honey. In reality, it subsisted as the land of the free lunch. All U.S. border states now insisted on fences and guards. No longer could anyone jump the fence. The problem of illegal immigration, so obviously out of control in the second decade, forced the Socialist Democrats to finally acquiesce. Their mission accomplished, their aim to amass enough constituents to vote them into power for perpetuity, could stop.

  The Socialist Democrat Party now exercised iron control of the government. The exceptionalism of The United States started its decline long ago when the masses realized they could use their vote to elect officials willing to rape the country in their efforts to sell their influence in return for votes. So they just voted for the politician and party that promised them the most swag. They didn’t care that someone must inevitably pay for it, as long as it wasn’t them.

  As a result, availability of capital to grow the private sector diminished. Small business suffered and disappeared. Taxes shot through the roof. Large corporations left the country along with the wealthy. Hollywood elite baled quickly, France, London and Mexico their preferred destinations. A pound of chopped meat in a grocery store (if you could find it on the shelf) now cost $33.00 a pound. And it was mostly pink slime fillers at that. Thank heavens for food stamps.

  The country now consisted of the unexceptional, the undereducated, the unemployable and the irrational. Oh, and the lazy, can’t forget the lazy. Birth control now remained a nasty word. The Socialist Democrats pushed it hoping to reduce poor populations, yet the poor refused to take it. Who wanted to give up the opportunity for another welfare check? The country, no longer a melting pot, became a country of fighting tribal factions and competing ideologies. The Socialist Democrat Party, the Muslim Brotherhood, the Green and the smaller Republican Party perpetually slandered each other in their quest to control what remained of the country.

  The Socialist Democrat Party, made up of African Americans, highly paid union workers and ex-illegal’s (45 million added to the Medicaid rolls. Read: Totally free medical care) granted amnesty by the Democrats in power in 2017, represented the majority. Ex-union officials made up 50% of the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives. The unions controlled 80% of the jobs. Either you worked for the federal or municipal government or you worked in the service sectors (100% union, thanks to Card Check legislation); manufacturing nowhere to be found.

  There no longer existed a national language. Children attended school for four hours a day, eight months a year; the average work week a mere 25 hours. The public insisted the politicians respect their need for rest and recreation. If they didn’t, they lost their jobs—voted out. Capitalism reigned no longer.

  The outdated pieces of paper called the Constitution lost its relevance and respect. The new law of the land required the courts to consider the beliefs and requirements of all global groups when assessing legal responsibility. Political correctness run amok.

  The deficit—stratospheric. Why do you think China had such a large economic presence? They owned the United States. Yes, what a lovely country the people lived in.

  An ineptocracy. A government by where the least capable of governing are elected by the least capable of sustaining themselves. The mandate: to confiscate wealth from the diminishing group of the most capable. Welcome to the United States of America.

  As a result, the vanishing elite upper class resided in a few tiny enclaves, no longer reviled, almost mythical, their wealth protected, their good will courted. The newly despised and envied middle class, the new six percent, consisted of politicians, some business owners, religious leaders, drug dealers and certain members of the burgeoning underground economy. The majority consisted of the poor and the poorer. The poor savored their relative happiness before the polio epidemic. Encouraged to procreate, their needs fully subsidized, initiative evaporated. Welfare, food stamps, subsidized housing, subsidized public transportation, free childcare, free medical care.

  Whatever you need there is a government program to cover the cost. Cradle to grave, as they say. Yet the poor somehow always found the money for air conditioning, cell phones, I-pods, cable TV, shiny leased automobiles, and LED TVs.

  The Chinese depended on that. Money for research and development in the U.S. vanished. Our scientists moved to other countries just like the best doctors, the rich, Wall Street and the entrepreneurs that found their spirits crushed by taxes and burdensome regulations. Everyone needed capital to survive. No capital in the U. S. The government would spend, spend, and spend on the populous. Surprisingly, the world’s super powers, China, Russia and Iran still allowed the U.S. to borrow money; even though repayment of the principal appeared unlikely. And the interest sure was a doozey.

  Then chinks appeared. Every year the rationing guidelines became more restrictive, free education became the most expensive in the world with the lowest rate of success.

  And then the polio came; the U.S the hardest hit. Over ten million children and four million adults died in the U. S. The highest percentage of adults came from minority communities, mostly immigrants from third world countries. Another three million left maimed and crippled to one degree or another. Urgent medical care meant emergency rooms came under siege; the doctors, almost nonexistent. Too many hospitals closed for lack of operating funds; too little reimbursement.

  It didn’t come as a surprise to many to learn the United States Health and Human Services Department quietly stopped budgeting for the creation and implementation of the polio vaccine in 2013. They took responsibility for vaccines and immunizations away from parents that long rejected the poisons in the makeup of the vaccines. The Boards of Education, no longer monitoring the children’s vaccination requirements, demanded congressional investigations that went nowhere. Conspiracy advocates abounded. The most popular theory postulated the virus, deliberately released by the government, would serve to thin the ranks of the entitlement classes. Abdicating responsibility to deadly disease; clearly far easier and more expedient than Congress risking reelection in a controversial attempt at fiscal responsibility. C’est la vie. Massive riots in the streets enabled citizens to vent but the efforts for change advanced anemically.

  Scotty grew hungry for his dinner, waiting for Germaine. If his best buddy didn’t show soon, they might lose their prize to the big kids. He didn’t want the big kids to spot him without Germaine for back up. The last time that happened, they held him down and pulled off his pants. They jeered and taunted him, calling him Scotty-Watty Tissue Paper and worse yet, Ass Wipe. They left him pantless on the pavement to slink home in disgrace. His mommy held him and shed tears with him. His daddy made fun of him and called him a sissy boy. He didn’t think sissy boy sounded nice from his daddy’s mouth. Now his daddy referred to both he and his big sister as parasites.

  He smiled the first time he heard it. It sounded like a big important word. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue. He liked to repeat the word over and over, enjoying the syllables that popped out of his mouth so satisfyingly. Then he noticed his mother’s face after his father said it. It looked crumpled in. That’s when he realized it must be a bad word. Now, the word just slithered out of his mouth like a venomous snake looking for prey to strike. He developed trouble sleeping, nightmares a common occurrence. He never remembered any of his
nightmares but he knew they always contained a big dark murky figure that resembled his dad. Unfortunately, Scotty easily developed into a suspicious defensive little boy, trusting only his mother and his sister.

  He loved his half sister, Abby. Abby’s daddy and his mom never married. Everyone said young and foolish made a bad combination for marriage. That’s what Abby said, too. He didn’t think his mom ever behaved foolishly. If she had been his age he would have made her his very best friend. Even though playing with a girl made you look like a loser.

  Thirteen-year-old Abby became Scotty’s strongest advocate. Whenever Scotty refused to go outside for fear of bodily harm, Abby would sit him down and spin stories of imaginary worlds, fantastic creatures and handsome brave little boys. He loved hearing Abby’s stories even more than playing with Germaine.

  That’s why he couldn’t understand why his daddy ignored Abby. His mommy said sisters and brothers must always protect one another. But he knew his daddy didn’t want to protect Abby. Late one night when he got up to go potty, he heard his parents fighting. He heard his father shout something about Abby hanging around his neck like an anchor. He heard his daddy call Abby a bad name. His daddy said he didn’t want to be responsible for a bastard kid that didn’t belong to him.

  Overhearing his daddy gave him a stomachache. His troubled sleep left him tired and cranky the next morning. But he still managed to promise his mommy he would always protect Abby, even if he had to stand on a chair to do it. He thought it would make his mother happy. He didn’t understand why she cried instead.

  Late one fall day, Scotty came home from grade school, his paperwork in his eager hands. He wanted to show his mom the smiley face the teacher gave him. His daddy was supposed to take Abby to the hospital for her weekly dialysis treatment. Mommy worked six days a week at the grocery store, so Daddy reluctantly took responsibility. When Scotty remarked that Daddy should work so Mommy could stay home more, he claimed he had very important things to do and that a dummy like Scotty wouldn’t understand. Mommy looked like her tummy hurt when Daddy said things like that.