The Turn: Prologue

The Turn

Prologue

~Times Square~

Three Years in the Future

“Good morning, Citizens of the New Order. It is six in the morning; the hour of waking is now. The weather is expected to be a brisk 65° today. A slight breeze is expected to come through the area. Remember: parents make sure you get to work by nine-o-clock or you will be punished. And children 18 years and younger get to school by seven-o-clock or you too shall be punished. It is as Scar wishes. All hail Scar, the ruler of us all…”

A girl sat up in bed. She glanced at a calendar for a moment then stepped out of bed. The radio continued talking about the great ruler Scar but the girl seemed disinterested. She had heard the same things over and over again for a year now since the Great Fall of Humanity.

The girl’s room was simple. There was a bed in the back corner and a nightstand beside it. A closet stood at the base of the bed and a small desk sat under a small window. Hazy light filtered through the dirtied window. A grey overcast hung over the entire world it seemed. It had been a year and a day since the girl had seen the sun or the moon or even the stars.

She undressed out of her black night clothes and put on her day clothes: a black t-shirt, black pants, and black high-heeled boots. Over her attire she wore a black hooded sweater. She zipped up the sweater and looked into the body length mirror that hung on the wall across the room.

She looked herself over. Her brown skin was a nice brown, half way between mocha and milk chocolate. Her black hair had grown longer in her year since the Fall. She had almond eyes, she guessed from her mother. Her lips were as full as any African American. She did have high cheek bones that gave her an overall serious look. Then again, she was always a serious person unless she was around friends.

“Zara?” a voice called from outside the room.

The voice brought Zara to reality. She grabbed two black hair ties and bunched her long hair into two pigtails, one at each side of her head. Her pigtails spiked outward more than fell down to her shoulders. (kind of like this if you are having trouble visualizing) She walked to her bedroom door. Outside her door she stood at the top of a half flight of stairs. She looked below at the man she was currently living with. Not to cause misunderstanding, he was her current guardian.

His old grey hair covered his face as he sat on the floor bent over a wooded block. He held a knife in one hand and seemed to be carefully carving something out of the block of wood. Zara walked down the stairs, her heels making a lout pock noise on the hollow steps. She stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting.

Her guardian looked up at her with purple eyes. A sly smile appeared on his lips when he saw her. He placed the knife he was holding down on the floor. With ease, he got to his feet. He too wore black clothes, a black sleeveless shirt and black pants. He walked around barefoot for as long as Zara could remember. Her guardian made his way from the empty living room to the nearly empty kitchen.

Zara walked behind him to the single table in their home. A black bag sat on the surface and he smiled.

“I packed your bag,” he said, much like a father would.

“I’m 19,” Zara said, “I think I can pack my own bag.”

The man faced her and leaned down. He placed a long slender finger on her nose, “Yes, you are,” he said, “Can I make you breakfast?”

Zara shook her head, “I’m fine.”

“You have a big day today,” the man turned to the small mostly empty refrigerator, “I’ll make you something.”

Zara was about to protest but when her guardian had his mind set there was no changing it. She sat down in one of the chairs and waited for her breakfast. Her mind wandered as her guardian made breakfast.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled, “You know, today is a very special day. It’s the first year anniversary of the New Order.”

“I know,” Zara sat up when her guardian placed a plate in front of her.

Two sunny side up eggs stared at her above three strands of bacon. Her guardian also set a plate of toasted bread on the table. The eggs and bacon made a very crude smiley face. The refrigerator’s contents were on the plate in front of her. She looked up at her guardian. He simply shrugged and walked back to his small wooden block. Zara looked back at her food and smiled.

Zara ate and finished her food before dropping her plate off at the sink. She picked up the bag on the table and walked up to her guardian. Again, she stood there a while until he looked up at her, a smile naturally on his face.

“After all this is over,” Zara said, “I can finally call you Puppetmaster again.”

Puppetmaster chuckled, “You could always call me that.”

“Not without giving us away,” she stated.

“True,” Puppetmaster nodded his head in acknowledgement of the fact, “Come home safe.”

Zara nodded and headed toward the door. She opened the door and looked out into the street a moment. Children all wearing black were walking were walking in the same direction toward the local school where they would learn about the wonders of Scar. She looked back at her guardian and saw that he had stood up again. He stood behind and placed one hand on her shoulder. After a moment, he pulled up Zara’s hood over her head.

“Come home safe,” Puppetmaster whispered.

Zara glanced at him, her eyes hidden under the cowl of her hood, “You said that already.”

Puppetmaster smiled, “I know. You can’t be too careful.”

Zara nodded and walked off the front porch and onto the sidewalk. At first she was determined not to look back but at the end of the walkway she turned. Her brown eyes met with Puppetmaster’s purple ones. She saw him raise his hand to her, palm facing out in a motionless wave goodbye. Zara responded in kind then continued walking.

For a while, she was with the student crowd, walking with them as a mass of black dressed children. Soon though, when the children broke off her route to the school she was alone.

Her route continued straight until she turned tight at major intersection and down a flight of stairs. She made her way to the subway ticket counter and paid the man. After she walked through the teller gate and got her ticket, she sat on a bench and waited for the subway to arrive.

Everyone around her wore black. It was the only allowed color. It was a way to honor the great Scar. More like a way to control people and their daily decisions. Zara sat and waited, her eyes still hidden from the cowl of her hooded sweatshirt. A group of boys walked up and tried to walk to her but she wouldn’t talk back.

The train came while they were each trying to make a pass at her. She stood up, walked passed them without looking at any of them and boarded the subway. The ride took about fifteen minutes before the subway stopped at her stop. She disembarked and walked out of the underground.

When she walked up the stairs onto the sidewalk she was about a block away from Times Square. As she neared the square she could already see the iconic view. Zara took a deep breath and stuffed her hands in her sweaters front pockets.

Zara looked to her right and saw a group of Order Bots talking to each other. They were robots that walked around looking for violators of the New Order. Their fragile blue mechanics were covered in a silver armor. One of their faceless faces turned toward her. She saw the two blue rings of light symbolizing eyes. Zara looked away and turned her head down to look at the ground.

Times Square was full of people getting to work. There were no cars driving to and fro as there once were because people couldn’t afford the gas much less the car. All the screens were black, absent of their usual advertising. People walked briskly to their workplaces to get to work on time and to avoid punishment. Zara stood at a corner for a while and looked at the scene. The bleak colors that replaced the usual glitz and glamor of New York were complementary of the weather. She might as well have been seeing things in a sepia brown, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. Suddenly the center screen flickered to life. The dormant speakers boomed on. Everyone in the street stopped. Even though they might miss the start of work, it was even worse to ignore the announcement that was about to be given.

A face showed up on the screen. It smiled an expected smile down at them. Zara remembered his face. His long blond hair fell to his chest and his crystal blue eyes were as cold as ever. The camera only caught him from the waist up but it was obvious he was wearing a white suit. The back of an expensive looking red chair sat served as the back ground.

Zara smirked, a great use of the ridiculous taxation, she thought.

“Hello, citizens of the New Order. It is I, your ruler, Scar. As you all know, today is the first year anniversary since the Fall,” the fake smile was still plastered on his face.

People started to gather outside into Time’s square. A sea of black gathered under the screen to view the mandatory announcement. Zara stayed on her corner, unmoving. She watched as people walked around her, out of their offices, homes, and schools to see the announcement on the nearest television.

Scar continued, “I am speaking to you today to bring you good news. Since the Fall, employment has risen, crime has dropped, more children are graduating, and the life expectancy had risen. The New Order has proven its worth already. With everyone under the same flag, there is no need for war. Hunger is now an inconceivable problem because what one area that has plenty shares it with those that lack. The New Order has been good for the whole world. Granted, lots of people had to die for us to come to this but I assure you, it was not in vain.

“Please allow me elaborate on the progress we have made as an entire world…”

Zara couldn’t listen to him any longer. She tuned him out as he went to explain falsely about all the good that the New Order has done. Good for him maybe, but the average human being it was like hell. They worked long and hard for almost nothing because Scar taxed everything that he could think of. He did this saying that people in Africa were poor and needed the money, but he probably said the same things to the Africans: ‘Oh, there are poor people in America and China. You need to help them too.’ All the while, he was just pocketing the money.

That is usually how all dictators end up. Granted they might believe in their idea at first but soon you see them driving their nice cars and getting bigger houses. Soon you wonder, how?

“It is a blessing to have the New Order. Without it our world would be in utter chaos. Because of the New Order, famine is no more—”

Puppetmaster gave me the last bit of food in the house today.

“Poverty is no more—”

We only make ends meet because of the Tower. Zara paused. The Tower.

“Violence is no more—”

Lies.

“Illegal drugs are no more—”

Lies.

“Crime in general is no more—”

Lies!

“War! Our enemies are no more because we are one! The New Order makes us one!”

Zara had to force herself to not vomit. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Someone ran into her shoulder, walking away from the large screen. Zara paused. It was time. It was finally time. She started to push her way through the crowd toward the large face of Scar. There was a makeshift platform that was probably built by some vagrants that were now off somewhere getting their punishment. A few kids were standing on it to get a better view. Zara climbed up and walked to the center of the platform.

She took her back pack off and set it gently on the ground. Carefully she opened it. She pulled out a long rod with a single red button on the top. After carefully setting it down, Zara looked to see what else was in the bag. When she saw what else was inside she smiled. After that she stood up with the rod in one hand and looked at the screen. Scar was nearing the end of his speech.

“The New Order is the best for everyone and should be maintained. It should be upheld for generations to come. A better world, a better future,” his fake smile hadn’t left his face once.

Suddenly, the target of his gaze shifted. Zara looked directly into Scar’s eyes. He smiled down at her and she glared back at him. She raised the hand that held the rod, her thumb hovering over the red button.

“Long live the New Order!” Scar concluded, staring directly at her.

Zara pressed the button. And explosion vibrated through the square. The screen shattered as four explosions demolished the front of the building. Glass showered down on people as they ran into the buildings surrounding the square.

Zara dropped the detonator and reached into her bag pulling out twin katana and a gun. When she stood up straight again the square was almost empty except for five other people who stood their ground, their faces hidden by the cowl of their sweaters. Zara smiled. It was now up to them to keep the revival turning.