Clarita carefully maneuvered through the fallen autumn leaves, being careful to not alert anyone of her departure. Fortunately, the season was young and the falling of the leaves had just begun. She couldn’t help but smile, even though the small gesture seemed out of place considering the circumstances. The beautiful tapestry of colors this time of year usually warmed her soul. She absently wondered if she’d ever feel that same serenity again.
She only had a small window of time before the clock tower announced the noon hour. The village’s mandatory siesta would end at that time. She quickly glanced around hoping that everyone else was adhering to the law and she could proceed unnoticed. So far the coast seemed clear and she could even hear the sound of distant snoring.
It was better to play it safe, so she continued silently, avoiding the dry light covering of goldenrod leaves.
Clarita had been planning this for sometime. She purposely cheeked the sleeping aid offered to her earlier and pretended to drift off with the rest of her family. She knew the risk she was taking, the law was very clear. She wondered if anyone else questioned the reasoning behind the mandatory mid day nap. What happened between 11 o’clock and noon that the elders wanted kept quiet?
She had overheard a Sentry talking the other day when she was reading in the garden. He had spoken in his robotic tone about the new arrivals and their future fate. Even though the Bots, as she liked to call them, spoke in toneless staccato, she gathered the new arrivals it spoke of would most likely not enjoy the treatment they were to endure.
Clarita could remember when the Bots invaded her small peaceful village. It was the day the laughter ceased. Fear permeated the space where once joy resided. Even though the Bots had stated they were there peacefully, it soon became evident that the consequence for crossing them was instant death; no jury, no questions, just an unbelievably bright light that eliminated anything in it’s path. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, yes, she knew what would happen if she were not back by noon.
Stopping behind an old oak tree, catching her breath and feeling pounding of heart like a hammer in her chest, Clarita listened for any noise that might alert her to the Bots whereabouts. Instead of hearing the monotonous tone of her captors, she instead heard the rattle of chains and moaning. Very faint, but terrifying, nonetheless.
She glanced at the clock tower. She had forty-five minutes to make it back to her mat. She wondered to herself what she would do when she got to the longhouse, where she was sure the new arrivals were being processed.
“I’m no hero.” She whispered to no one. Clarita was young and fit, strong for her size, but she’d never done anything heroic. She briefly toyed with the idea of turning back. So deep in thought, she almost missed the tell-tale sound of metal feet connecting with cobblestone. Just in time, she ducked back behind the tree as a Bot Sentry clamored by. “Stupid! Stupid!” she thought. Now sweat was beading on her forehead and she peaked back out to survey the scene. Coast looked clear.
She darted from behind her hiding place, darting across the street dodging the leaf littered asphalt and took cover behind the nearest building across from the long house. She mimicked the moves she had seen on t.v. a long, long, time ago. Since the Bots had arrived, so many thongs had been deemed taboo and destroyed; telephones, computers, most books and television. Anything that could be used as a weapon had been confiscated. Little did the Bots know there was a resistance building and an underground shelter had been turned into a bunker, which was quickly growing with tools to use against them someday.
Clarita checked the tower again- 11:30. Not much time to scout things out. The longhouse was restricted. Once it had been the center of celebrations, community and laughter, now it was dismal and had an evil vibe to it. She heard the moaning again and Bots moving about, their feet scraping the floor.
She knew there was a small window set on the back side of the building, and she scurried around the corner. She nervously looked around, assuring there were no Sentries.
She stood on her tippy toes and peered through the cloudy frame. Her breath caught in her lungs and froze. Before her she saw rows and rows of people- adult men and women, shackled and bloody. More shockingly were those people that appeared to be only half human. Their bottom half was covered in metal, identical to that of the Bots. She was paralyzed by fear and disbelief. The Bots were multiplying by using humans. Bile rose in the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes.
Finally, Clarita moved away from the windows, she retraced her steps cautiously and encountered no one or anything.
She settled on her mat and closed her eyes, tears still trailing down her cheeks, she vowed to find the key to bring these Robot monsters down. She had to. She numbly heard the clock tower strike noon, and like magic, those around her started to stir. She pretended to just wake herself.
She repeated the mantra “The key, I must find the key.”
She only had a small window of time before the clock tower announced the noon hour. The village’s mandatory siesta would end at that time. She quickly glanced around hoping that everyone else was adhering to the law and she could proceed unnoticed. So far the coast seemed clear and she could even hear the sound of distant snoring.
It was better to play it safe, so she continued silently, avoiding the dry light covering of goldenrod leaves.
Clarita had been planning this for sometime. She purposely cheeked the sleeping aid offered to her earlier and pretended to drift off with the rest of her family. She knew the risk she was taking, the law was very clear. She wondered if anyone else questioned the reasoning behind the mandatory mid day nap. What happened between 11 o’clock and noon that the elders wanted kept quiet?
She had overheard a Sentry talking the other day when she was reading in the garden. He had spoken in his robotic tone about the new arrivals and their future fate. Even though the Bots, as she liked to call them, spoke in toneless staccato, she gathered the new arrivals it spoke of would most likely not enjoy the treatment they were to endure.
Clarita could remember when the Bots invaded her small peaceful village. It was the day the laughter ceased. Fear permeated the space where once joy resided. Even though the Bots had stated they were there peacefully, it soon became evident that the consequence for crossing them was instant death; no jury, no questions, just an unbelievably bright light that eliminated anything in it’s path. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, yes, she knew what would happen if she were not back by noon.
Stopping behind an old oak tree, catching her breath and feeling pounding of heart like a hammer in her chest, Clarita listened for any noise that might alert her to the Bots whereabouts. Instead of hearing the monotonous tone of her captors, she instead heard the rattle of chains and moaning. Very faint, but terrifying, nonetheless.
She glanced at the clock tower. She had forty-five minutes to make it back to her mat. She wondered to herself what she would do when she got to the longhouse, where she was sure the new arrivals were being processed.
“I’m no hero.” She whispered to no one. Clarita was young and fit, strong for her size, but she’d never done anything heroic. She briefly toyed with the idea of turning back. So deep in thought, she almost missed the tell-tale sound of metal feet connecting with cobblestone. Just in time, she ducked back behind the tree as a Bot Sentry clamored by. “Stupid! Stupid!” she thought. Now sweat was beading on her forehead and she peaked back out to survey the scene. Coast looked clear.
She darted from behind her hiding place, darting across the street dodging the leaf littered asphalt and took cover behind the nearest building across from the long house. She mimicked the moves she had seen on t.v. a long, long, time ago. Since the Bots had arrived, so many thongs had been deemed taboo and destroyed; telephones, computers, most books and television. Anything that could be used as a weapon had been confiscated. Little did the Bots know there was a resistance building and an underground shelter had been turned into a bunker, which was quickly growing with tools to use against them someday.
Clarita checked the tower again- 11:30. Not much time to scout things out. The longhouse was restricted. Once it had been the center of celebrations, community and laughter, now it was dismal and had an evil vibe to it. She heard the moaning again and Bots moving about, their feet scraping the floor.
She knew there was a small window set on the back side of the building, and she scurried around the corner. She nervously looked around, assuring there were no Sentries.
She stood on her tippy toes and peered through the cloudy frame. Her breath caught in her lungs and froze. Before her she saw rows and rows of people- adult men and women, shackled and bloody. More shockingly were those people that appeared to be only half human. Their bottom half was covered in metal, identical to that of the Bots. She was paralyzed by fear and disbelief. The Bots were multiplying by using humans. Bile rose in the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes.
Finally, Clarita moved away from the windows, she retraced her steps cautiously and encountered no one or anything.
She settled on her mat and closed her eyes, tears still trailing down her cheeks, she vowed to find the key to bring these Robot monsters down. She had to. She numbly heard the clock tower strike noon, and like magic, those around her started to stir. She pretended to just wake herself.
She repeated the mantra “The key, I must find the key.”
RSS Feed