Just the beginning; Part One

January 30, 2010
By flare556 BRONZE, Fultonville, New York
flare556 BRONZE, Fultonville, New York
2 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
I like pie!

Just The Beginning

Every heartbeat surged pain and agony throughout my entire body. The car was going so fast and recklessly I could barley breathe. My eyes were stinging from the harsh desert sands blowing towards my face like a viper’s venom attacking every blood cell until it finally gets to its destination, the heart.
Time is running out and I have no plans, and no options for this conspiracy to even have a remote chance of ending without someone getting hurt … or worse.
“How far are we till we get to the Camps?” Robert asked.
I looked at him. He was opening a bottle of Coke and acting as if everything is okay. Like everything was fine and that this was just another drive through the harsh desert climate that we have known now to be home. I hated the face he was giving me. It was the face that said “Don’t worry so much we’ve got this all under control”.
But we didn’t have anything under control and we never will, we always have to have a Plan B.
I think I should mention what the Camps are. The Camps are just little huts the people who live there make; they make them out of anything they can get their hands on. But the people who live there aren’t poor, they are average people who have gotten cheated out of their lives by the Indian government. The problem is apparently no one knows how or why this has happened, and basically no one cares.
“We are ‘bout a mile and a- half,’’ Scott replied his calculations without even looking away from his Tetris game.
“I still don’t see the point why we had to sneak out of a military base just to save these people. I mean jeez what type of heartless cold people would let others die just for the money?” Robert asked.
“Your dad would,” mumbled Scott.
We all knew this was true, but the words stung Robert. His father is the famous General Freedman, The guy who has it all; Looks, Money and yes an intensely large amount of power. All the same Robert didn’t take to this last comment well and broke out in a series of punches, while Scott was holding his hands above his head and kicking and begging for Robert stop suffocating him with the heavy blows.
Normally I wouldn’t have intervened but it was hard enough driving the stolen vehicle without knowing how to drive it, Let alone having two ‘young gentlemen’ killing each other in the back seat. I reached into the compartment of my jacket pocket, pulled out the shiny loaded black gun, aimed it with one hand in the air and the other trying to maintain the weight of the car and… Bam! Pulled the trigger. It seemed to be the only effective way to shut anyone up in this country.
After five minutes of blessed silence I began to worry again. I looked back to find Robert Freedman with his dark brown hair and black eyes big and bulging, And Scott Castoff, son of the late Dr. James Castoff, both looking at me like I’m a mad lady.
And in all truth, I am.

… One month earlier, United States …

I looked into my grimy jail cell mirror one last time. My light silky brown hair was pulled back in a strange looking ponytail. My hazel-blue eyes seemed like slits through my glasses which have been broken and scratched from all the fights between me and the other felons for; my ‘different’ ways of thinking, or because of how smart I am… etc. I never started any or the fights, I only finish them.
I look at my pale white skin… “Was it always that whiter-than-the-cleanest-piece-of-paper color?’ I silently asked myself.

“So tell me was this the way you pictured yourself to die? A fifteen year old girl in a federal prison cell?” asked a voice from behind me.
I looked through my mirror to see a short woman with curly black hair and a sweetly menacing voice. She had a boy next to her with the same curly hair, But with thick glasses.
They were both entering my cell.
“Who are you two and what the heck are you doing in my cell?” I demanded so quickly I didn’t even hear her question... Nor did I care to.
“You see no one ever visits my cell. Not the attorney when I requested one… for good reason. No colleagues, and certainly no family, so yea I was a bit shocked when a sharp-looking boy and his mom were walking into my cell asking strange questions.
“Who am I? You of all people should at least have a guess of who I am considering you are going to die in an hour for programming a thousand microchips that were installed in guns for the military to kill 5,000 military personal without even wasting one round of bullets, so please tell me you’re kidding when you say you have no clue who we are.” The woman was snarled.

“Yea well I do stuff like that a lot so… who are you?”
The woman made a long and low sigh of surrender and looked at me with eyes that were saying they wanted to wipe the smirk off my face and would if the ever got the chance.
So I just kept grinning.
“I am Janet Castoff head of the Indian department of mental and biological warfare technological resources and…”
I cut her off.
“Yea I know who you people are now, I hacked into your mainframe a while back, jeez, you people were working on some crazy stuff back then. Your Scott right?” I focused my attention on the sullen kid (that seemed to be around me age,) across the room.
“Yea I am, hey we need your help. My father (he seemed to be forcing the words out when he said this,) was working on a new type of solider for the Indian army. They are stronger and faster than the regular solider, they even have the ability to posses and control the minds of their victims.”
The room fell silent so quickly, that if a fly landed on the table, it would have sounded like a plane crashing.
“We found out that after M-my father had passed the Indian government approved a team of ‘specially skilled’ programmers to implant Nano-chips into the subjects brains. So that they can control them. After they let the subjects “escape” missing people reports started flooding the local police stations. I believe you are familiar with the Camps right? Well that’s where the people are… or so we believe. Anyway after the people started going missing their money started to vanish along with them. Once we informed Robert Freedman of the truth he decided to let his loyalties lie with us. He said he will get us into the military base where they are using the chips so you can learn more about them,”
“Wait, wait what do you want me to do I don’t know if you realize this but I’m going to die in twenty minutes,”
“We need your help hacking into the chips but as far as we know you can only access them from five meters away, and you’re the only person who can pull of something as crazy and suicidal as that. That is unless you want to stay here and die,” Scott implored.
“Nha, I’ll pass on the dying for right now. But what makes you so confident that I can pull this off?”
“You hacked into our systems mainframe, right? Well you did it in two minutes when not even the top FBI and CIA agents could even begin to break a single code, so trust me when I say you can do it,”.
“Okay I’ll help but all the charges against me get dropped and I get to walk right?”
“Yep so let’s get going we have a plane to catch,” growled Mrs., Castoff who was apparently sick of hearing the conversation.
Scott rolled his eyes at his mother and we left for India…
Now that I look back at it we all became friends rather quickly; Robert, Scott and I. Not only did I learn about how the chips work, but I also learned how to use a gun instead of programming one to kill a bunch of guys. One day Robert and Scott even salvaged me dog tags with my name on them, but they were too special to wear so I kept them in a small red bag promising to not even touch them until the big day…
I kept looking at the dog tags when Robert came in asking me if I was ready to go.
“Yea I’m ready, just give me a sec,” I replied.
The dog tags were symbolic to me and still are. They represented the only friends I will ever have… or at least the only friends that don’t mind me being twenty steps ahead of them in everything.
I glanced at the tags one more time and silently read the engraving; “Eve Groven, Age: 15” and ran down the steps and into the parking lot.
We sneaked out of the building and climbed into the Jeep Convertible that I ‘Barrowed’ From a Nuclear scientist.
Before we left Robert gave us a shot of NaCl (it was supposed to block the subjects from entering our minds.) He gave me that horrendous face and said; “Don’t worry this won’t hurt a bit “.
“You’re injecting me with salt,” I protested
He just kept smirking as the needle got closer and closer to my skin and I yelped.
Then we packed up the car with your normal items for a road trip: My laptop, a hundred bottles of Coke, TNT… Etc, and left covering our tracks heading for the camps.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Feb. 7 2010 at 1:15 pm
flare556 BRONZE, Fultonville, New York
2 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
I like pie!

Awwwww... ty but i dont think it amazeing tho. im just happy it got on here... i luv ur potery!!!!! XD

*Jade* said...
on Feb. 7 2010 at 11:14 am
rember i read this in school...its amazing tho.....


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