The Conqueror

Untitled Part 1

Jesse watched the faint fire from her window.  Suddenly there was a pounding at her door, which she ignored.  Such things were common, after she learned that whoever opened their door had their apartment searched automatically, no matter how much they protested. The subversives would pound on another door until one was opened to them.  They would search, throw clothes and possessions around and eventually leave. These men consisted mostly of foreign nationals from the middle east, though once in a while Germans, Swedish, Dutch, and yes, even American sympathizers would be among them.  Traitors, Jesse thought with a shudder and a grimace. The government had been subdued, and key politicians were terminated, either assassinated or deposed.  The Congress had collapsed, along with other organizations and institutions.  Even their police were quickly dispersed, and after an attempted fight, had been restrained.  She turned from the transparent sash in disgust, fingers groping for the phone.  She called her parents daily to see how they were doing.

When she entered her bedroom to turn on the fan, the plastic bottles on the floor gleamed wickedly, drawing her instant attention.  The coolness of the indoor fan caressed her face as she studied her project.  She was making a raft out of the jugs and had hurriedly picked up all the supplies.  The insurrectionists were milling around town, but so far had left the stores alone, so she could stroll along the aisles of the hardware store in relative comfort.  She could not believe what had happened and in a matter of a few weeks everything official had collapsed, either by intimidation or outright force.  However, there were pockets of resistance and whispers of revenge, retribution and resistance.  Now she was hurriedly attaching the buoyant plastic to each other.  Her frame of vinyl leaned against the wall, casting a friendly shadow on her aching back until she yawned sleepily.  She glanced toward her clock and was startled by the time.  It was in the middle of the night and the cementing together of the eerily innocuous benign objects was almost big enough to fit inside the framework of her homemade ferry.  She had told her family nothing of her risky strategy; her beginnings of her desperate plan in a frantic bid for freedom.  Now tomorrow, she would have to.  Jesse planned on leaving via the river, in Stables Park.  The park was still free of the insurgents, and she could slip into the water without incident.  Fishermen and couples milling around, would help mask her travel down the river.  There were other boats and kayaks.  First, however, she wanted to say goodbye to her parents.  They had declared that they would never leave.  And of course she needed supplies, food, fishing poles.  She was already licensed, and if by any chance someone inquired what she was doing down by the river, she would merely point to her fishing license and smile.  

"But where will you go," asked her father, Ben finally after she told them everything~how she pieced the watercraft together, how much money she had saved, the supplies she already had.  "I know it's not-pleasant here, but it's our home."

"Dad," Jesse began, "This life is like a powder keg.  It's only a matter of time before they enact law how to dress, what to believe.  They've been even invading the churches.  We used to call them hate crimes!"  Her eyes blazed with an inner heated inferno, and Ben turned pale.  His hands trembled.  He was in his eighties, and his wife was not well.  They both were devout Christians and just last week their church had been raided and left in a state of disarray.  Now they worshipped at home, not daring to go to church.  There was a very real chance of violence.   ''I will not comply."  She stated it plainly.  Ben stared at her.  Finally, he gently told her, drawing her into a hug:  "At least take someone with you.  You mother and I~well, we're too old and crippled with arthritis to move.  But you-you're young.  Take someone along and you probably won't be bothered. Two people traveling are safer than one."  Her mind raced.  A friend, what he said was very true.  She squirmed inside, her mind indecisive.  

"Steven's going to stay?" she asked seriously.  Steven was her brother, who had a wife, and checked in on them weekly also.