Separate Worlds: Prolouge (book)

 

Prologue: Year 3080: Past Day

Prologue: Year 3080: Past Day

Explosions were ricocheting off the buildings, people screaming and crying out, gunshots cutting off people's wails. We’re at war! The female gender is sick of being controlled by men. Tired of their XY-driven chromosomes and their ego that was too big to fit into the puzzle, and we wanted equality, and they just wouldn’t give it up. 

I looked down at my hands, shaking; my brother and my baby sister huddled around my waist, crying. Soot covered their tiny faces. He looked at me with his piercing blue eyes and his blonde hair black from dirt, 

“When is mamma coming back, Jes?” He whimpered.

  “She's looking for papa. She’ll be back soon, Rylin.” I pulled him close. Mom wasn’t coming back neither was dad. It's been over a day, and there was mayhem throughout the city. We huddled together deeper into the dark shade of the fallen building. 

Something yanked my long braid and forced my head on a rock; I heard my siblings scream and a pop of a gun, but it seemed to be too far to be them. I’m forced up with powerful hands. My head spun, I gagged, and vomit spilled all over my clothes and the floor: pop, pop, pop. Tears brimmed my eyes, blurring my vision even more. I sucked in a deep breath to calm my nerves. I tried to wipe my eyes from the tears, but my hands were tied with a coarse rope behind my back. Shaking, I blinked out my tears and croaked out a whimper. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want this. Let me go.” I quivered.

“Shut up, I’m here to help,” A rough female voice erupted into my senses. 

I looked up from my vomit-covered bare feet and found a woman with broad shoulders and a gun around her waist. 

“I killed the man that roped you and killed your siblings.” 

“Huh? Where’s Connie and Rylin?” I cry.

“I told you, sweetheart, they are dead…. D-E-A-D! Now get your thoughts together and help me OUT!” She cuts the rope around my hands and places a pistol in them. 

I immediately dropped it. I look at a slumped figure of a small girl in the corner. I stifled a gasp as I recognized her. It was my six-year-old baby sister Connie. She was dead. But Rylin was nowhere to be found, and I didn't want to look around to find out. A lump forms in my throat, and I bite my lip to stop a sob erupting from my throat. I look at the woman, and she picks the pistol from the ground.

“You got to sugarplum, do what's right,  we are at war, now go out there and get some revenge, make a change.” She replaces the pistol into my shaking hands. 

Then something clicked, I thought of  Connie, Rylin, my mom, and dad, and the fire warmed my sore body. I found that I was sick of being controlled, sick of being called weak, and terrified for the world we lived in for so long. I needed change. I grabbed the gun in my left hand so tight my knuckles turned white.

“There you go, hon, now you see that this is important to fight.” 

I looked into her dark brown eyes and held out my hand. 

“Jes McFear, I understand what needs to be done.” She took my hand and shook it. 

“I know, Liv Whittner, are you ready?” 

“Yeah, I think I’ve been ready for my whole damn life.” 

“Hold off the language. It's not as cool as people might think.” She winked.

I stuffed the pistol in the back pocket of my jeans and scanned the playing field. We had a squad of women going head-on into the fight and about ten men trying to catch the group of women from behind. Liv looked at me then at the ten men; after a mutual agreement, I left the group, and she went right. I hid behind a destroyed hover, and pulled out my gun, and got into position. I held the gun with both hands through the broken windows. I searched through the crowd and found an easy target of the men; I aimed, closed my eyes, and pressed the trigger. The gun popped and jerked my arms up from the tension. I ducked, scraping my arms on the broken glass window. I had missed the shot and hit him in the back; cursing, I aimed again, I caught one in the arm. My hands were shaking. I had to relax. This drew the guy’s attention, and they had their guns raised and running towards cover. Shaking, I heard a pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. Liv had downed five guys before getting shot in the arm. But by then, the flank of women knew to watch their back. I let out a sigh of relief, but the war wasn’t over yet. Pop, pop, pop, the men aimed at me but hit the hover instead. I had to move, but I didn’t want to leave Liv.

Sighing, I took a split second to scan the area again. Remembering to calm my nerves, it was clear, but the men were probably waiting for me. Either I run away or try to help Liv, my thoughts jumbled into each other figuring the pros and cons. I looked to the area where Liv was to find that she wasn't there; she must've run to help the group of women. Something pushed my shoulder down back under cover of the hover. I was about to scream when I saw Liv standing beside me, watching the area. I wiped the sweat from my brow. 

“They are waiting to trap you; they think you and I are a threat; that's why they are still here.” 

“That's what I figured,” I replied.

“Run, and I’ll cover” She pushed me away.

“No! You’ll get killed! You run, and I'll cover. You should survive this; you have a vision of a better world!” She chuckled and looked at me.

“Yes, I have a vision, but you have an actual capability to make it happen.” 

“But, how do you know that? I don't want to lose another good person.” She pulled out ammunition for our guns and reloaded them.

“I have five more clips of ammunition left, food, and other essentials. Here take it.” She took her bag off and put it over my head. 

I grabbed my gun and nodded, knowing this would be the last meeting with my newfound friend.

“Go, Trust your gut, not your heart.” 

Nodding, I ran, pop, pop, pop bullets whizzed by me, one grazed my arm, but I continued running. The scenery blurred as tears filled my eyes. My foot caught on a rock, and I slid on the rubble of buildings and streets. I scanned my body, I had deep gashes on my knees, elbows, and my right wrist was purple and swollen; it was broken. I took a deep breath, and tore my long shirt into a crop-top, and made a makeshift sling for my wrist. The rest could wait till I was safe. I grabbed my fallen bag and gun and started running again.

 I found myself in a somewhat quiet area in the mayhem; searching the area, I found an abandoned and destroyed church; I went in and found a makeshift hospital. Hundreds of women huddled together and tending to each other's needs. My body felt their pain, I had similar wounds as them, but they looked more extensive. A middle-aged woman walked up to me and started to tend to my gashes; I let out a gasp as the wet rag stung them. My knees let out, and she caught me before I fell; she carefully lowered me onto a stretcher. Everything went black.

~*~

I opened my eyes in discomfort; I looked around at the coughing people and crying little kids. This wasn’t right; the pain was everywhere, destruction was floating in the air, the mutual feeling of hate. Sweat poured on my forehead and got quickly wiped away from a woman at my side tending to me. I looked at her wide-eyed; no one had taken care of me before; I always had to do so for my siblings cause my parents were hardly home. The woman looked worn and tired; I carefully sat up as a headache panged through my head. I took the woman from her arms and helped her up from her knees. She looked at me curiously, she was finally on her feet, and I patted the seat beside me.

“Hey, I’m Jes; it's ok; I’m here to help; rest you need it.” 

I took the rag from her trembling hands, her eyes widened, she shook her head fearfully. A hand rested on my shoulder, and I jumped, highly aware of the sickening silence. I turn to find a girl around my age.

She had bright blue eyes, tan skin covered with some scabbed over scratches, and dirt powdered her face. She had full lips that formed a soft full heart. She had dimples when she managed to smile down at me. Her face was splattered with freckles; she had a birthmark on her neck in the shape of a leaf. She was about five foot five, with a slender body, but she looked capable of tearing me into pieces if we were ever in a fight. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, it was dark purple, but her eyebrows were strawberry blonde.

“It's okay, you're injured, plus, she’s mute, and she won't and can’t sleep because of night terrors.” She said with a strong Australian accent.

“Ahh, I am so sorry.” 

“It's ok.” She giggled awkwardly. 

My shoulders relaxed. It was nice to hear a laugh in the dire of this moment, even if it was fake.

“I’m Jes.” 

“I’m April. Nice to meet you. Glad that you're here to help, we could use a hand or two.” She whispered. 

I nodded and looked over my body, my gashes were covered, and my ripped jeans were replaced with yoga pants, and I had a large male shirt on. I held my right hand up and found a black cast on it. 

“How?”

“We have some doctors and supplies at hand.” 

“Oh...thank you. How long was I out?” I questioned.

April furrowed her eyebrows and pondered for a minute before responding.

“2 days?”

“2 days…” I muttered softly.

I looked at the crowded area; I needed help, I needed people on my side. There were about twenty women that looked well enough to fight. So I stood on a crate and shouted into the crowd.

“We need equality, and we need it now! WHO IS WILLING TO COME WITH ME TO PUT AN END TO THIS?” 

Women got up from beds, put their fists over their hearts, and lifted them to the air. I had about thirty women and girls able to fight along with me. I placed my left fist over my heart and trusted it to the air. 

“We FIGHT!” 

I smiled, for I saw victory, and I wasn’t one to back down from a fight! They wanted war; we’ll give them war till they crumble.