Free Solaris Mortem: The New Patriots by Rusty Henrichsen

cheek. Spewing snippets of the mantra didn’t sit well with him. Terry thought he should let the issue die, but he could not seem to help himself.
    Terry lay down another three card run, “But doesn’t it feel a little like Nazi Germany to you?”
    “No, man. It don’t feel that way at all.” Jasper’s eyes betrayed him, darting back and forth as he said the words. They weren’t the confident eyes of a man stating his truth. “Listen, man. I’m’a tell you this one time. Don’t be talkin’ like that. A man be sayin’ things like you be sayin’ right now, not be lastin’ long up in here. You got me? We’s all gotta do what we’s gotta do.”
    Jasper’s eyes bulged, and his nostrils flared. Once again, Terry was astounded by the whites of his eyes against the backdrop of his skin. Like flashlights in the dark.
    “Yeah. Yeah, I got you.”
    “You keep talkin’ like that an’ we don’t hang no more. I ain’t gonna get strung up for no white man’s mouth.”
    “I got it…. Are we cool?”
    “Yeah. We cool. Now discard. It’s still your turn.”
----
    Terry lay in his bunk that night, mind racing. What if he couldn’t find Kat? What if he did? How the hell would they get out of here with the chips in their heads? What if she wouldn’t leave with him? Suppose she had turned into one of the sheeple, like Jasper?
    He didn’t know how, but he knew he had to get out, and God willing, Kat and the kids with him. He thought of his Bible again, stashed away in a hedge along with his small armory. Terry wished he had it to read right now, or anything to read right now. Reading was always good for sleep. What he wanted, though, were answers, and he wondered if he could find his in the Book, or anywhere else for that matter….
    He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep with limited success. In the morning, his work assignment began and with any luck, he would find Kat.
----
    At the transfer station, he spotted her. Kat was in the makeshift kitchen area making sandwiches. Wheat bread, skim of mayo, bologna slice, Velveeta, bread topper, repeat. The food was almost worse than not eating at all. Almost.
    “Kat! Katherine!” Terry called out when he got to within thirty feet.
    Katherine turned toward him, “Terry? Oh my God, Terry!” She dropped the knife; it clattered to the plywood counter. “Oh my God, Terry! I thought you were dead.” She leapt at him and wrapped her arms tight around his neck.
    “I’m okay,” Terry said. “ I’m okay . What about Jon and Tabby? Where are they?”
    “Oh, Terry. Jonathan got so sick, but he’s better now—after the vaccine, and Tabitha never got it, thank God. They’re at school right now.”
    “School?” Was it school, or was it an internment camp?
    Katherine just looked at him, puzzled, then said, “Yes—school.”
    “I don’t like this place, Kat. I don’t like it at all. Something’s not right; I can feel it.”
    Katherine put her hands to her hips, and she reminded Terry of their mother for a moment. “Well, it sure beats the alternative. Wouldn’t you say? You don’t know how bad it was, Terry. People were killing each other over a loaf of bread. No water, no power, and sewage was running down the streets. Then, people started getting sick. We’d all be dead by now if they hadn’t shown up when they did.”
    Terry shook his head. “I know exactly how bad it was, Kat. I walked here—rode a horse part of the way—I’ve seen plenty, but I’m telling you, these Patriots are trouble. Big trouble.”
    “What would you have me do then? Just let the kids die? Huh?”
    “No. No, of course, not…. That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is I found you. We can figure out the rest later.” Terry gave Katherine another hug.
----
    At the end of the day, all the good, little worker bees clocked out, migrated back to the hive and Terry acquired the necessary permission to stay at his sister’s. Un-fuckin’ believable. I need to ask