Black Box 86ed

by Kjelland, Andrew

  “Ha ya, it got us here though.”

  “I just wanted a free ride to the Farris wheel. We could still go. Couldn't we?”

  “I doubt the pier is open right now. Seems like the perfect spot for an attack don't it?” Over points out.

  “Well, we will ask someone, maybe one of the hundreds of pigs that are sitting around.”

  Suddenly the streets fill with a bounding voice. “We have come too far to give up now. We will get through this. The stars are our guide as we voyage through this dark time. Please show your support by visiting Union Station to be a registered backer of the United States government, the greatest country in the world. We will not be beaten, we will not be broken. We stand united with stars on our hearts, and the American dream in our minds.” The recorded message bounds off the buildings slowly fading.

  “Well, I’m convinced, should probably high tail it an get our stars.” Roger says with a smile.

  A man carrying a small ladder steps from the far side of building, slowly walking past us. He's a blind, older black man maybe in his sixties sliding his walking stick from side to side. Reaching the corner he takes three steps back and slowly sets up his ladder. We all watch in silence as he painfully slowly makes his way up the ladder grunting with each step, breathing loudly through his nose. Reaching the top he folds his hands bowing his head he quietly prays to himself. Then raising his head and with a booming and not unlike the preacher from the Jesus channel’s voice says.

  “He knows our grand design

  You have and will sin against the one true god

  Why are you still here?

  Repent for our ends are near

  Fire will rain from the sky

  Until each last one of us has died

  Be grateful for this short time

  For you will be judged by this god of mine

  For in great fire you will sleep

  Like a lamb to the slaughter, a quiet sheep

  I pray for peace.

  For one’s safe keep

  Through these trying times

  Whilst living by front lines

  A war brought home

  Soon becoming the daily norm

  The devil now shown in true form

  When brothers fight brothers

  Mothers against mothers

  Neighborly love dependent on a star

  Or the lack there of

  For this is not American

  This is not human

  It is a simple condition

  Brought forth by our own cognition

  But you think there is still time

  You think not to worry about this god of mine”

  We stand aw struck at his melody. I look to Roger and Over, their cigarettes burning into the filters as they stare entranced at the man. I get their attention, “you guys ready?”

  “Yep, I'm done.” Over replies and we head back around the building.

  “He was intense,” Grace tells us.

  “Ya his flow was pretty cool, I can defiantly say I was not expecting that.”

  “You always get the crazies in downtown Chicago,” Over interrupts. “Every time I'm in this city there is always some weirdo preaching up a storm to a nonexistent audience.”

  “He kinda had a point, we are fighting a war that could have been avoided.” Grace points out.

  We cross the street entering the main building of Union Station. A big hall absolutely jam packed with people. TVs mounted on the walls blaring Obama’s latest speech to the country.

  “Now is not the time to lose faith in our system. With something that has worked for hundreds of years, we must keep our government, our laws, and our security for generations to come. Now I know this is a tumultuous time in our country, but we are strong and will make it through this more united and better than ever.”

  “Not sure I believe a lick of it.” Roger tells us.

  “I don’t know, he’s tryin to keep the country in one piece.” I cut in.

  A man taps Roger on the shoulder and they start to chat about god knows what. I turn to Grace. “Are you ready for your new fashion accessory?”

  I get a smile out of her. “Hey, stars are in now aren’t they?” She laughs back to me.

  “I’m sure anything you wear is instantly a trend.” She rolls her eyes. Dam it Will you can’t come on this strong, especially with what we’ve been through.

  Roger taps me on the shoulder. “Something’s off, see now I’ve never been here but why are they shuffling people out after they get their stars?”

  I turn and look over the crowd and sure enough they are taking people through a back door. “Who knows maybe a background check?”

  “You see that?” He asks pointing to the end of the room. “That cop just took that woman’s kid form her.”

  I can’t see it but I do a little kids crying.

  “Well I can’t explain that.”

  “Something sure as shit ain’t right here. What you thinking Over? We got savings, could skip out on some deliveries till this bullshit blows over.”

  “What just skip out on the stars? I don’t know, the government pretty much told us we have to get them or we’re an enemy of the state or something.”

  “You don’t think they’re taking them to those camps do you?” Roger says almost under his breath.

  “Camps? What camps?” I ask.

  “Ever hear of those FEMA compounds? Got about three of em in every state according to the internet. Basically they’re nice prisons for people who haven’t committed any crimes. Literally made just for situations like this.”

  “That’s just some conspiracy bullshit, we would have heard something about that. Someone would have broken the news if that was the case,” Over interjects.

  “Good god how many times have I told you? All the hundreds of news outlets are all controlled by just six corporations. Who’s to say the government isn’t controlling the news, especially now? I mean we are kind of at war. What better time to make sure they’re being put in the best of light?” As soon as Roger finishes his sentence all the lights in the hall go out.

  An almost palpable wave of panic moves over the crowd. People reach for their phone and lighters. It’s quite a sight. Almost like we’re at a concert and the main act is about to come out.

  “Remain calm, can we have everyone please remain calm. It is just a blown fuse. We are fixing it now, the lights will be back on in a few moments.” A man over a bullhorn tells us.

  I reach in my pocket pulling out my lighter. Flicking it on the light doing very little good.

  “Ya see shit ain’t right, I’m tellin you guys. We should take this opportunity to make an exit.”

  “It’s just a fuse man it’s gona be alright,” I encourage.

  “I don’t know,” Grace, says, it’s kinda creepy. What if this is the rebels again? What if there’s another bomb?”

  “Don’t think like that the security here is crazy.” I say although I feel a tinge in my voice giving away my lack of optimism. “There is no way they could sneak one in.”

  The TV’s all turn on at once. A hush flows over the crowd. But this time it's not Obama; no it’s someone else. He’s an old grandpa looking man in a nice suit. He looks familiar but his name escapes me.

  “Hello folks, my name is Ronald Paul.”

  Some people in the crowd cry out and a few start to push their way through trying to escape.

  “Now some of you may know me but I’m sure many do not. That’s what happens when politics control the media. But I am the recently elected President of the United Rebel Forces. Now I’m sure you have many questions. Unfortunately I only have a few moments of your time so I’ll get straight to the chase. We, nor any of our affiliations had any, and I repeat anything to do with the train incident that happened this morning. My heart is filled with grief for those who have lost their lives. One of my very close aids just so happened to be on that train. Our
intelligence has shown, that your own government were the ones behind this travesty. All in a ploy to concrete your faith in the United States government and make sure you were going to get your stars. Now you may ask why go through all the trouble of putting my face on this TV screen. You see, the stars program is a falsity. Their intentions are not a mere labeling of who is on their side and who is not. This is a mass citizen relocation program the FBI came up with in the seventies. You may have heard of FEMA camps before. Well that’s where they are going to take you when you get through the very line you are standing in. Now I must ask you all to please remain calm. The United Rebel Forces have taken the opportunity made possibly by this video to disable all security throughout the entire Union Station. And who ever wishes to leave this trap are not only able, but encouraged to do so. Your government has betrayed you. They have killed your sons, your daughters, your neighbors. They have stripped you of all the basic freedoms this country was built on. Whether it be your freedom of speech, right to trial by jury, and even habeas corpus, you’re right to know what you are charge with. The UFA is here to right these wrongs. We will not be stopped until justice has been wrought to all those who have wronged the very people they swore to protect. God bless you and may God lead you to a safe place today.”

  The lights come back on as a new voice booms over a bullhorn.

  “For all those wishing to leave with their freedoms please slowly walk to the exits.” I look around to see several policemen and a few military officers tied up in the corner, a few bleeding from the head and unconscious. “Those who wish to be put into a FEMA camp without the ability to leave may stay. We will not harm you; we are solely here to protect you. You are our reason for being here. You are our reason for fighting this war. And we will die if it allows you to live a life free of oppression and tyranny.”

  The crowd nearly splits in half. Most of the families stay put. I suppose they would rather have their kids’ safe in a camp then the possibility of getting shot or bombed in the real world.

  I turn to the group. “What are we thinking?”

  “Well I’m not looking to be a caged rat,” Roger tells us.

  “I think your right. We could just go home.” I tell Grace.

  “I don’t know. What happens if we don’t get them?”

  “I’m not sure, but I know I’m not going to a camp. Let’s just go home. If they want us to go to those camps let’s just make them come and get us.”

  “Uhh ok that sounds fine.”

  “Well sounds like a plan,” Roger tells us. “Now I’m no military expert but I’m guessing it could get pretty ugly here, and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.”

  We move into the crowd of about two hundred leaving the hall. Slowly making our way up to the street. The stairs lined with armed militia.

  “Fight for your country. Join us in taking back America!” One of them yells over the crowd, as several others snake through picking out people trying to get them to enlist.

  We make our way through the doors. Slowly shuffling our way onto the sidewalk the voice of the street preacher clearly heard over the confusion. Suddenly a bullhorn squeals over the chatter of the crowd.

  “What is happening?” Grace asks.

  “I don't know but I’m sure it can't be good.”

  A voice comes over a loud speaker hushing the crowd. “Attention to all those leaving Union Station.”

  The blind preacher’s voice booming as he tries to overpower the bull horn “FOR GOD HAS LET US DECIDE, WEATHER TO SHOW OUR LOVE, OR JUST LET IT HIDE”.

  “By order of the Federal bureau or Investigation and under the authority of martial law you are ordered to reenter Union Station.”

  “OUR LOVE IS GOD’s LOVE.”

  “Those who do not comply will be held accountable for acts of treason with the suspicion to commit terrorism against the United State of America, a crime punishable by death.”

  A rush of militia swarm through towards the street. The crowd is so dense with people I can’t even see who is talking.

  “AS HE ONCE SAID.”

  “Live ammunition has been authorized,”

  “LET IT BE KNOWN THAT.”

  “You have one minute to reenter the station. If you have not gone back inside you will be fired on, we ask that you PLEASE return to the station.”

  “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD”... A shot rings out, absolute chaos engulfs the crowd. We are swept up as the sea of people sprint back into Union Station. I look to Grace as she’s knocked down. I try to run to her. Putting my shoulder into a businessman who lets out a deep “uuufffff” he hits the ground, I hear his screams as he’s trampled.

  “Sorry!” I yell as I slowly make my way to where I last saw Grace. Bullets flying into the crowd knocking people under hundreds of feet. People sprint past each shouldering me in the process I’m only a few feet away from where she fell. I see her hand reaching out from between bodies rushing by. “Get out of the way” I scream as I swing hitting a guy in the jaw. Grabbing her hand and with all my strength I pull her to me. Her face a little bruised but other than that she is practically new out of the box. “Come on we need to get inside!” The gunshots are all we can hear, as we run with the crowd back inside Union Station. Slowing near the door as people bottleneck there way back in. I officially have unsurpassed understanding of what it means to be a fish in a barrel, as bullets tear up those around me.

  “O shit now it’s a party” I hear Roger screaming to Over. They are about ten feet in front of us as the mass of people enter through the door and run down the stairs.

  “Let’s go through the back door they were taking people through.” He responds.

  What we don’t even know what’s back there, I think. But right now they are our only friends. “This way” I tell Grace as I follow Roger and Over. The crowd slowly comes to a halt as the room becomes almost completely filled again. People screaming for loved ones they lost in the rush. Everyone else is on their phones yelling, “don’t go it’s a trap, and look up FEMA camps and tell me what they are.” I turn to Grace, “are you ok?” “How does your head feel?”

  “It’s not that bad I just got kicked.”

  I turn back to look for Roger and Over but they are gone. “Damn it we have to go,” I grab her hand and we push our way through the crowd.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Roger and Over went through the doors they were taking people in.”

  “Why the hell would we want to go back there?”

  “I don’t know they are the only friends we have here and I think a bigger group would be good in a situation like this.” She doesn’t say anything as we finally make it to the doors.

  “I’ll peak my head through and take a look.” Cracking the door open, I peer through. It’s just a hallway that leads outside I see Roger and Over almost to the doors at the end, “Hey wait for us!” I yell. They turn around Over waves me to them. Grabbing Graces hand I pull her into the hallway. We run to them.

  CHAPTER…

  Sprinting through the door we exit onto Clinton Street. The sounds of gunfire echoing over the top of Union Station.

  “This is bad, this is so bad, and I don’t know what to do. God fucking dam it who do we even trust?” Over asks. “The Government has to be safer but they almost killed us on the train.”

  “No, we trust only ourselves, that’s all we can do. Where do we go now?” Roger asks.

  “We get the hell out of town that’s what we do.” Grace cries.

  “I agree we just need to get south right now.” I interject

  “How the hell do we do that we don’t have a car.” Roger yells

  “Look” Grace says her voice shaking as she points down the street. Following her finger I look to see about two blocks north a line of humvees surrounded by armed military.

  “Holy shit, move now!” Over screams.

  “I vote the opposite direction from where those humvees came
from.” Roger replies,

  We start at a dead sprint, Roger taking the lead. Going about three blocks until he takes refuge in a parking garage.

  “Do you know where the hell you are going?” Over asks him.

  “How in the fuck would I suddenly know where to go? I just starting running like the rest of you!” He exclaims.

  “Well where are we goin? We need details now!” Over replies.

  We all take immediate inventory of every brains cell that would have any possible inkling of what to do in this situation.

  “You know that guy we met in Tulsa?” Roger asks Over.

  “Ya, so?”

  “He told me he does a few deliveries for some guys that aren’t quite on the books if you know what I mean.”

  “What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

  “He did cartel work! They set him up good. Got himself a loft in one of these skyscrapers. He told me anytime I’m in Chicago I could stop by, even gave me his door code.”

  “Why in the hell would he do that?”

  “It doesn't mean anything he was just being friendly.”

  “O bull shit Roger.”

  “I'm telling you the truth alright. He's got an apartment in one of these high rises and if we get there we’ll be safe until things settle down out here.”

  “So let me get this straight, when I’m off making extra deliveries so you can pay that god dam pi to look for your kids. You’re off gallivanting around getting codes to some guy’s back door?”

  “O Jesus Christ it's not like I asked for it. We were talkin and he just offered it to me. Ain't my fault.

  “Hey, Hey!” Grace yells

  “What?” They scowl in reply.

  Pointing down the street her hand shaking, “Look.”

  We all turn looking about four blocks down a sea of men sprinting straight at us.

  “Hide! We need to get up a level.” Roger yells.

  We quickly turn to the stairs sprinting up two flights. Reaching the third level I sprint to the edge hiding behind the wall to the street and a pillar. I peek out as they run by. One man yelling over a bullhorn.

  “This is it! First Chicago then the country!” A chorus of cheers fills the air.