Deep South, Keep Running

Waking from my nightmare, just to fall back into the same one when I was a child, was horrifying enough. Living every day through one, just to wake into the same one the next morning, with no hope for change, is far more unbearable. I find myself longing for the night terrors of my childhood to replace what atrocities the world today offers each morning. At least, then, I could eventually sleep. I remember very clearly the day that it all began.

I had come to a point in my life where it seemed as if the entire universe had shifted, and the heavens had opened a bottle of champagne in celebration of my future and happiness. The world was in controversy, but my life felt completely unaffected or involved in the conflicts arising.

You see, I have always been the type to leave the rest to quarrel needlessly among themselves. I felt that, if I did not wrap myself in their dramatics and paid no mind to the mindless arguments, lies, and hatred being brewed by the masses, that it would bear me no consequence nor create barriers in my road to success. Oh, how misguided and naïve I must have been.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Today, that law is something that I wish I would have paid more attention to, as I spend my days making haste to flee to the neutral territory, known as the “Deep South”.

Some say, the Deep South is the only place left on Earth that is safe. They say that it is free from government, religion, and modern technology. Technological advancement is what allowed the government leaders to brainwash the citizens into supporting our second American Civil War and what ultimately led to the Rebellion. Once China and Russia sided with the Middle East, it was all but a matter of time, and everyone knew it. World War III was inevitable.

We had a puppet that we called “President”, and he was wasting away our supplies and trading our secrets to other countries while he blinded us with “free” money and called it “Covid-19 Relief stimulus checks”. Everyone knew there were not funds to cover the aide provided, but no one cared about the long—term effects as long as they received theirs. Lined up like cattle, we did exactly what they expected and took the bait. Even myself, and I knew without a doubt there was going to be hell to pay. What did I care, though, I was an ex-con and on disability. I truly needed it.

The Rebellion leaders made a treaty with the group, now known as the “RCA’s” – Russia, China, and the Arabs. Half of the American military split and joined their forces, as did the other half of the American civilians. The politicians mainly stayed with the US Military who were still loyal to their oath, and the federal government had been paying and releasing hundreds of thousands of incarcerated violent offenders who were on Death Row or had life sentences with or without possibility of parole throughout the world without informing the public. Offering pardons to all who would serve as hired or bartered thugs in defense of the American government’s coming revolution.

The remaining prisoners were transported to the secured regions of the “Deep North”, named such because it mimicked the “no government, religion, or modern technology” of the Deep South, except it was gated like the previous prisons, only held inmates, and was so far north that it stretched over the Canadian border. They decided to let them all loose in the harsh climate knowing that most would not survive a winter, and even more so, that very few could ever make it back through the wild of the tundra and onto “Free Man’s Land”.

Most of the prisoners had figured out ways to smuggle their families to them and seeing as how the government did not care if they had one less civilian to worry about joining the fight against them, it was not all that difficult. I came to find out that it was our government’s remaining military that transported those families, but only because I was one of them.

Not a soldier, but my husband was moved from his facility in Texas and left to die in the Deep North. I knew he wouldn’t, but I knew my chances of being reunited with him were greater if I found him, instead.

It has been eighteen months since the Nuclear Fallout Advisory Board had issued the “All Clear” we had all been praying for. Though, no one was brave enough to leave the shelter of the mountain once they had. It has been half a decade since anyone of us has had the pleasure of breathing unfiltered air. Though, the gardens and small indoor greenhouses have kept us alive, it isn’t the same. How the wind felt blowing through my hair while we made our way across the valley towards the safety of the hidden mountain bunkers and the taste of the fresh snow that fell upon us before the blasts hit our territory is what wake me in the night.

I long for the memories of my past. Nature and earth call to my spirit, but the others are frightened that if I open the seal and leave, it will contaminate the bunker. No one believes the reports on the radio because of the previous lies they were fed by our once beloved politicians and media. I cannot blame them, though, I cannot bring myself to sit idle while the rest of the world possibly prepares for another attack. I will not stay underground for an entire decade.

My husband and I have rallied a group of others that share the same belief. That there is no hope if we do not keep running. Deep South is where we are heading, given the chance. Knowing that we had a better chance at the first announcement of making it passed the barricades they built. Because now, they may have been rearmed with military forces once more. We all agree our chances are greater if we leave sooner. According to the Advisory Board, no one has ventured back into the Deep North to see how many prisoners have survived. Which means that we can at least make it to the Free Man’s Land before we encounter conflict.

The Mountain Committee has agreed to allow our group out without the knowledge of the others, only on the terms that one member returns with the verified “All Clear”. Tonight, is the night we have been planning our departure, and my stomach has been in knots for days awaiting it’s arrival. I wish we had freshly brewed coffee. It would be our celebratory beverage right now.

At midnight, the seal on the first door was broken. After we were all in the middle containment area, the committee pushed it closed behind us. Left to ourselves to open the second, my husband grabs my arm to ensure that I am not the one to do it. I nod and watch. There are three families, three couples, and nine individual members of our party. Of the three families, only one has children under the age of twelve, and the girl of that family is only six. There are five single men and four women. The other two families consisted of mostly boys and two other girls. The girls were sixteen-year-old twins. My husband and I were the oldest of our group. He is fifty-one, and I just turned forty-eight this spring. We decided to wait until summer to leave because of the cold, knowing the children would not make it far. They have designated my husband as the leader, even though, he gracefully declined.

My time came to pass through, and it was everything that I had been waiting for. There were patches of snow higher up the mountain, but the evergreens were tall, and their scent was powerful. The moon was high in the sky, and the world around us seemed as beautiful as it was when I was a child. The little girl had no memories of such a world. I could see the wonder and excitement on her face.

We traveled by night and hid in the safety of the mountain crevices and rock cliffs during the daytime. One of us keeping watch from all directions high upon rocks. Not once have we seen a single sign of life, other than a few squirrels and rabbits that we have eaten along the way.

It’s now the third night since we departed, and we have travelled a long distance already. I can tell we are getting closer to Freeman’s Land because the mountains and valleys are growing smaller by the day. Also, we came across a few sets of human remains when we first set out tonight. I am not sure if that is a good sign or not. They were all just skeletons, but their bones looked like they were picked clean. Unless the squirrels and rabbits have become carnivorous, it appears that there is more out here than we have noticed.

Coming out of my thoughts, I see a flicker of light, bright and familiar, in the distance, and I know that it’s a fire. The whole clan spots it before I can get the words out. Huddling, we agree that we should sneak down together and find out the dangers. That’s when the mother of the little girl begins to panic, asking frantically if we have seen her daughter. My stomach sank, and I knew. She had gone to explore the light. She had never seen flames from a bonfire before, living inside of the bunker. The woman read my face and turned into a full-on sprint.

If things start going wrong this early on, it’s not going to behoove us to keep travelling together, and we all know it. The entirety of our faction is coming down the hill towards what appears to be a camp with an old school bus behind a huge fire, and nothing else. By the time the mother reaches a hundred yards from the camp, she sees her daughter dancing in front of the flames. Smiling in relief, she calls out to her. The girl turns and smiles back, then is struck in the back of the skull with a large rock by a man wearing camouflage pants and jump boots. As she hits the ground, the mother screams out in horror. A pain pierces deep inside my heart because I know that she is dead. But before I can cry out, the man looks up and nods.

Out of the shadows appear figures that snatch the women up and begin to drag them away. That’s when all hell breaks loose. I am far enough back and concealed by the trees against the rocks of the small cliffs left by the mountains, and all I can do is watch. The group scatters, and the soldier crouches beside the child he just murdered, grips the front of her dress to lift her to him, licks the blood dripping down her face, drops her lifeless body. Then, he jerks the heart-shaped locket from around her neck and disappears silently into the darkness.

My husband touches my elbow from behind, leans forward, and whispers into my ear, “Deep South, keep running.