Free GMO 24- The Coalition- A Tale Of Prepper Survival (GMO 24- A Tale Of Prepper Survival Book 1) by James Hunt Page A
Authors: James Hunt
and pat-downs upon entry. Todd extended his arms to the sides as the sentry patted him down roughly and robotically. Once cleared, he grabbed one of the wax candles from the barrel and lit its wick from the massive candle which acted as a lighter for anyone entering.
A small engraved plaque with the same inscription as every other community building rested under the candle. It was meant to inspire hope and a heightened sense of neighborly affection.
“Let this continuous flame represent the burning desire for hope and faith in every citizen of the United States of America.”
Todd made it a point to spit on it every time he passed it. The plaque was nothing more than a continued propaganda campaign against every free-thinking man and woman in the country. Citizens had exchanged lightbulbs for candles. Cars for carriages. Knowledge for security.
Because glass was deemed too delicate and expensive, each community building was erected without windows. The small glow of the individual handheld candles provided the only light in the seemingly infinite darkness that consumed the room.
The light of Todd’s candle finally stumbled across one of the splintered wooden benches used as seating. He was careful in sitting down, trying to avoid an unnecessary poke from the aged wood.
“Talk about a literal pain in my ass,” Ray said, taking a seat next to Todd on the same bench.
Ray Nickle was by far the only other community member that had as big a grievance as Todd. Ray kept his candle tilted at an angle, letting the hot wax drip and join the growing pile on the floor. He sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee, making his already small frame smaller. The biggest thing on Ray Nickle was his mouth.
“Who the fuck is that new guy?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know,” Todd answered.
“Do you think they know anything? Did somebody talk?”
“No, I don’t think so. If somebody talked, half the town would be on their way to a farm camp right now. Something else must have happened.”
Three others joined Ray and Todd on the bench across from them. Emma Claire, Nelson Willow, and Billy Cooth. A few other community members walked in but sat by themselves or with their own groups of people. Having a new inspector in the community was a big change, and change was usually for the worse.
“Do we know what that was all about?” Emma asked, dripping some of the hot wax onto her fingertip and rolling it around, coating her skin with a slick whitish gloss.
“No,” Todd answered. “But we’ll figure it out.”
“How are you not in a farm camp right now?” Nelson asked. “I mean for God’s sake, you’ve been on the new produce for weeks now.”
“Maybe the Soil Coalition doesn’t have the resources for blood sampling anymore? It could all just be for show,” Billy said, through coughs and hacks.
“No, did you see the way the new inspector reacted to the results? It wasn’t what he believed would happen. I think the lab tech skewed the data,” Todd said.
“But why?” Ray asked. “If the Coalition found out, they’d toss his ass in a food camp faster than a whore skipping church on Sunday.”
That was the one variable that escaped Todd. Why? He’d never met the lab tech who ran their blood test before. Could the lab rat have known who he was? Perhaps, but without more information, it was useless speculating on how they came through unscathed and who their mystery helper was.
“Let’s focus on what we know. We just had a blood sampling a week ago. They’ve never been this close together in the past, so that leads me to believe something or someone tipped them off,” Todd said.
Todd didn’t want to allude to any allegations that would lead to dissent within the group. Their bonds of trust were a major factor in what they were able to do and would hopefully continue to do. But Todd knew this day would come. The risks of
A small engraved plaque with the same inscription as every other community building rested under the candle. It was meant to inspire hope and a heightened sense of neighborly affection.
“Let this continuous flame represent the burning desire for hope and faith in every citizen of the United States of America.”
Todd made it a point to spit on it every time he passed it. The plaque was nothing more than a continued propaganda campaign against every free-thinking man and woman in the country. Citizens had exchanged lightbulbs for candles. Cars for carriages. Knowledge for security.
Because glass was deemed too delicate and expensive, each community building was erected without windows. The small glow of the individual handheld candles provided the only light in the seemingly infinite darkness that consumed the room.
The light of Todd’s candle finally stumbled across one of the splintered wooden benches used as seating. He was careful in sitting down, trying to avoid an unnecessary poke from the aged wood.
“Talk about a literal pain in my ass,” Ray said, taking a seat next to Todd on the same bench.
Ray Nickle was by far the only other community member that had as big a grievance as Todd. Ray kept his candle tilted at an angle, letting the hot wax drip and join the growing pile on the floor. He sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee, making his already small frame smaller. The biggest thing on Ray Nickle was his mouth.
“Who the fuck is that new guy?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know,” Todd answered.
“Do you think they know anything? Did somebody talk?”
“No, I don’t think so. If somebody talked, half the town would be on their way to a farm camp right now. Something else must have happened.”
Three others joined Ray and Todd on the bench across from them. Emma Claire, Nelson Willow, and Billy Cooth. A few other community members walked in but sat by themselves or with their own groups of people. Having a new inspector in the community was a big change, and change was usually for the worse.
“Do we know what that was all about?” Emma asked, dripping some of the hot wax onto her fingertip and rolling it around, coating her skin with a slick whitish gloss.
“No,” Todd answered. “But we’ll figure it out.”
“How are you not in a farm camp right now?” Nelson asked. “I mean for God’s sake, you’ve been on the new produce for weeks now.”
“Maybe the Soil Coalition doesn’t have the resources for blood sampling anymore? It could all just be for show,” Billy said, through coughs and hacks.
“No, did you see the way the new inspector reacted to the results? It wasn’t what he believed would happen. I think the lab tech skewed the data,” Todd said.
“But why?” Ray asked. “If the Coalition found out, they’d toss his ass in a food camp faster than a whore skipping church on Sunday.”
That was the one variable that escaped Todd. Why? He’d never met the lab tech who ran their blood test before. Could the lab rat have known who he was? Perhaps, but without more information, it was useless speculating on how they came through unscathed and who their mystery helper was.
“Let’s focus on what we know. We just had a blood sampling a week ago. They’ve never been this close together in the past, so that leads me to believe something or someone tipped them off,” Todd said.
Todd didn’t want to allude to any allegations that would lead to dissent within the group. Their bonds of trust were a major factor in what they were able to do and would hopefully continue to do. But Todd knew this day would come. The risks of
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