Kindle Edition
BooksbyJamesWNelson
Amazon
Category:
Military
Type: Fiction
Pages: 36
Copyright: 2016
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
The coming election might just be the most important one ever, since Abraham Lincoln was elected and kept America as one nation.
In this election the two parties are irrelevant. One candidate loves America and wants to keep her safe and united, the other candidate will turn us over to the Muslims and the New World Order.
This short story I wrote specifically to influence the coming election. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are never mentioned specifically, but you will have no doubt who is being talked about. The story is fiction. It's 10,000 words. I'm putting it out for free because I "do" want to influence the election.
There are many reasons Hillary should not win the election, but if she does....
A fictional look at politics today, the election of 2016 is coming gangbusters.
What could happen 2 days after "this" first woman is elected president.
Please download the story, read it, and if you like it call all your friends and ask them to download it too. (It's free for just 1 day [24 hours, tomorrow, October 12, 2016, beginning at midnight]) then again in one week, free for another day.
Hillary, criminal, must be stopped.
Excerpt
This is a 10,000-word short story. Here is the beginning 3 scenes.
****
Dedicated to patriotic Americans who love America
****
“If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—forever.”
“Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.”
― George Orwell, 1984
“One believes things because one has been conditioned to believe them.”
“...most men and women will grow up to love their servitude and will never dream of revolution.”
― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
****
The phone alarm Ronald hoped he would never hear went off. Like the ancient electric alarm clock, he knew that buzzing would never stop until he stopped it, or, in this case, answered the phone. He rolled to his right, away from his sleeping wife, grabbed the cussed thing, "Yeah? What?"
"They're kicking doors in, Ronald."
"What? Who?"
"I don't know! The men-in-black! The new world order! The government! I don't fuckin' know!"
"Alright, Maurice, just try to calm down. Who told you?"
"I am calm—my goddamned contact called me—just like I'm calling you!"
A few profanities were let loose, then, "They're still in the north part of town...so he said, but I'm gettin' out right now, and I suggest you do the same."
"In the middle of the night?"
"Good Christ—do what the fuck you want!"
With that the call ended. So, what now? They lived in the center of good ol suburban apple pie America, miles from any kind of hiding place, and what were they to do when they got to a hiding place? How could they live?
The worst, they were told—well, not told, exactly but highly, highly, suggested—NOT to use cell phones in their communications. But they did anyway. Most got a special untraceable cell phone, but were they really untraceable? Damn good question. So now—if they were traceable—whoever was kicking in doors had the digital signal of how many people? When they had their few meetings, when they discussed the possibility of...this, happening, how many took it seriously?
Not many, he suspected.
And how the hell else were they to communicate? Two-way radios? Yeah, maybe. But long distance? He didn't know. So many things he should have researched—but Goddamn it, nobody thought this shit would ever happen!
He sensed the even breathing from his dear wife, and wondered, is she sleeping? He didn't really want to burden her with this news. He wished he could just whisk her and their two children away to somewhere they would always be safe from any bad thing ever happening again.
What a joke. Bad things happen constantly...but worse since the liberal feds have been in power. Eight years and the new president just elected would be worse than the last one. How could that have happened? There had to have been mass cheating—and how could she already be writing executive orders? Had to be her. She said what she would do many times, and obviously has done it with full agreement and encouragement from the sitting president.
January 20, Inauguration Day, was still months away.
But if they're kicking doors in—saying Maurice knows what he's talking about—follow your own gut, my boy.
He rolled back and reached to his wife's shoulder, "Honey...."
She rolled over and faced him immediately, "I heard you talking, Ronald. I've been worried ever since that witch got elected."
"Yeah, just two days ago, I guess she's not going to waste any time."
His wife was just inches away. He moved those inches and took her into a hug, "I love you, Mars." He held her close. Married fifteen years and he had never gotten enough of holding this good woman, "I think we have to leave."
"Now? Right now?"
He didn't answer. How could he answer?
She returned the hug fully, "I love you too, Ronald...the children and I will do whatever you say."
For a full minute he held her, and she held him back...but that forsaken clock kept ticking. He listened for the sound of his door being kicked in. Was it true what Maurice's contact said? Could it possibly be happening? What his patriot friends and he had talked about and talked about, but never took seriously?
He pushed slightly back from the hug, "Get the kids up, Mars, please, but they aren't going to like it."
"I've spoken with them, Ronald." She smiled, "I think they will surprise you."
Even in the mostly darkness of their bedroom he could see her smile, that smile he never got tired of seeing, I'd like to make love with you right now, Mars, God I would love to. He released a breath, then released his woman and pushed completely away, grasped that damn phone and typed in that one number, the one guy he was required to notify.
Ringing. The sound was worse than the factory where he worked assembling tractors for farmers so they could raise food for the masses of people.
And ringing. And ringing—
Finally, "Yeah! What the fuck?!"
His contact sounded angry. He didn't blame him, getting woke up in the middle of the night, "Georgie, sorry, man, but my contact just informed me they're kicking in doors—"
"Fuck! Bullshit! In the middle of the night? What the fuck's wrong with'em?"
That's their plan, Georgie. We talked about it in our group—"
"I know, goddamn it, I know! Okay, you've called me! I'm hanging up."
"Okay, man, good luck."
"Thanks, you too, sorry for yelling at you."
"No prob, I yelled at my contact too—why the fuck wouldn't we?"
"Right! Okay, hanging up." The line went silent.
He glanced at his wife. She was already dressed, in jeans, heading out the bedroom door ...yeah, probably would be a while until he saw her beauty inside a dress again, "Honey, shall we go to your parents? At least for now?"
She looked back as if that was the stupidest question ever, "Of course."
What a good woman, both strong and beautiful—and smart. He didn't know how he could have found such a can-do woman.
Another moment passed as he dressed. When ready he picked up the cell phone that had woke him, looked at it for the last time, threw the covers on their bed up to the pillows, smoothed the bed slightly, then laid the phone in the middle of the bed, and headed for his son's room.
****
At his son's bedroom door he stopped, and spoke quietly, "Kyle...?"
"Yeah, Dad, come on in."
Even at fifteen his son had a grasp on things. His twin sister did too, but in a slightly different direction...seemed so, anyway, at times. He opened the door and stepped in.
"I'm almost dressed, Dad."
"Good. Pack one small suitcase and your backpack, what you can carry in one trip. Clothes, books, mementos, whatever you really want."
"Just one trip?"
"We'll see. If more time we will...I don't know. After you make that trip, please go down to our gun locker. Get all guns, ammo, knives...put everything on the floor between the seats, and the camping equipment, and fishing gear—well, you know what to do. Treat this like any other family outing...." He added a little quieter, "Only this is a bit different."
"I'll store the camping equipment on the rear seat and under it."
"Right, Son, you know what to do. And gas cans. I purchased four one-gallon ones just last week...they're empty, though."
"That's good, Dad, you were thinking ahead." Kyle sent a smile, "Will you have your gun in the car seat holster?"
"Yes, as you know, that's considered concealed and I have the license.
"Okay, Dad."
"Thanks, Son, and please check on your sister. She can help you, and make sure she gets her stuff out to the crossover too, thank God we decided to trade up to a crossover.
He stopped at the door and gazed at his son making preparations. What a great kid. Wow, a beautiful wife and two great kids...of which he better check on the other one.
****
At her door he stopped, "Esther...?"
"Yeah, Dad, I'm getting ready."
"Okay, Sweetheart, one small suitcase and your backpack, clothes, books, mementos, whatever you really want, what you can carry in one trip...your brother will help you and you please help him."
"Just one trip?"
"For now, Sweetie."
"Okay, Dad."
He gave a light knock, "Okay." And time to check on his wife. What she was doing—food, dishes, cookers, silverware, storage bags, cooler, my god, there's no end to it—would take more than one trip...but first a trip to the garage workshop.
****
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