The Last of Them

The year nobody voted. Senator George Adrew Quincy had been chosen by Congress and the Electoral colleges. Then, once he'd been sworn into office and promised a new and better Amrica, he signed the Executive Order eliminating all other branches of the government.

Senator Quincy, now President, set to work on his "Better America". First he turned the states into districts. Claiming total unification of America was the best way to make a prosperous and safe nation. Not too bad so far.

It was durring the fourth Great Ressecsion that things took a turn for the worst. Quincy restricted travel and stopped all immigration. He said he was protecting America from terrorists and job competition from immigrants. Liberals wondered if he had forgotten that America is a country of people from many nations. Did these complaints stop him? Not in the least.

As the end of what should have been his first--and only--term approached, he signed yet another Executive Order. This one decreed a special state of emergency suspending all elections indefinitely. Meaning Quincy would be President for as long as he wanted. What could go wrong?

A lot did go wrong. The fourth recession was still in full swing. National morale was extremely low, people had trouble supporting their families. This led to civil unrest and turmoil. Roiting, looting and stealing became commonplace. It was as if the nation had lost its mind.

Everyone in America was scared. Quincy's response to the chaos? Institute a peace keeping force on a National level. He called them "The Patriot Bettalion". They made the police look like teddy bears. The Patriot Battalion was armed with full body armor, assault riffles, battons of tungston carbide, infra sonic weapons and bright anti-personnel lights. (Colloquially, the anti-personnel lights called Spazers, because after being used on some of the dissidents they caused seizures, making people "spaz out" as it were.)

The Patriot Battalion used these resources without disgression. Anyone who wasn't killed, but was thought to be roiting or doing any other undesirable behaviors, was sent to maximum security prisons without trial or sentancing guidelines.

Once the social unrest had been dealt with, President Quincy made an address to the remaining citizens.

"My Fellow Americans;" he began. "We have come through some hard times. No doubt many of us have lost friends and family to these horrible, bad no good people. They tried to steal from their fellow man, but my Patriot Battalion has dealt with this threat to our peace and safety. But we have not Conquered the real problem: the ones responsible for our economic and social threat. It's not the terrorists that my predicessors faced, it's not disease or lack of opportunity. The Miscriants are! Who are they? They are the free thinkers, enviromentalists, any people who are poor or vagrants and any who side with them! Those are the real enemy! Join me, America, in eradicating the Miscriants from our midst! Then we will have stability! Then we will have prosperity! Then will America finally be great!"

This speech was broadcast nationwide, repeatedly on every major network. The government bought up all the air time, podcasts, TV station and digital media. People liked the idea of having enough money and food! Even if that meant imprisoning anyone who didn't agree with President Quincy. Besides this meant enviromentalists and liberals couldn't tell them what to do. Scientists ruined everything didn't they? Who cared! America would be a winner again!

Thats the kind of enviroment, Lance Aldrin Smith had been raised in. Nearly a century after his namesake had been part of the now non-existent space program, Lance was dozing off in his American Civics class. "Mr. Smith!" Mrs. Pence shouted. "If you do not pay attention to the lesson, I will have you in detention the rest of the semester!" Suddenly alert, Lance stood up and saluted his teacher.

"Ma'am yes Ma'am!" He barked. "What is the question you would like me to answer, Ma'am?" Mrs. Pence scowled, she hadn't become a teacher by choice but now that civics was mandatory and job choice was limited, she had naturally settled into this job. "What makes President Quincy different than Adolf Hitler?" She asked. "Ma'am! President Quincy is not on methamphetamines" Lance guessed. "Nor has he killed any Jews or minorities, Ma'am!"

A cocked eyebrow indicated there was more that Mrs. Pence wanted. "In addition;" she prompted. "Why is President Quincy the best leader America has ever seen?" This was where Lance had to watch himself, his opinions were not in the majority. "Because, Ma'am, President Quincy is restoring America to glory! Ma'am!" He had practiced this answer so he could blend in. His teacher nodded in affirmation. "Very good Mr. Smith;" she said. "You may resume your seat."

Lance sat down and pretended to take notes but secretly doodled for the rest of class. The final bell rang, releasing the students to return home. There were no more movie theaters, malls or libraries to go to. Lance had to report back home before curfew. His only option was to go catch the light rail train back to his parent's appartment in Millville, Utah.

At the Granite School district light rail station, Lance waited for the blue line train to pull in. Everything was normal, until he noticed a girl sitting by herself.

She seemed out of place. The girl was wearing a baggy grey hooded sweatshirt, in the middle of the coldest day of winter. Tempratures had been around five degrees Fahrenheit that morning. Even by Utah standards that was not sweatshirt weather. Her jeans were tattered showing bony knees through the fabric. The girl kept peeking through unkempt hair at the crowd. What was she so nervous about?

Lance felt sorry for her, he had a thermos of cocoa he hadn't touched in his lunch box. "You look cold;" he said. "Want some cocoa?" The girl gasped and tried to exit the app she'd been using. Lance had seen the screen though. "What's that mean?" He asked. "Cout << "Hello World!" ? Is that some weird new thing on Twitter?" The girl shoved her phone in her pocket. "You're nosy aren't you?" She said. "It's none of your business!"

Not used to a peer responding with deffensiveness, Lance tried to back pedal. "Sorry!" He said. "Forget the question! I was just trying to be nice...you want a drink or not? Promise I'm not a creep!" She seemed to calm down a little. "Yes, thank you;" she said taking the thermos. She took a couple of sips then handed it back to Lance.

Lance was nautually curious. "My name's Lance;" he said. "What's yours?" The girl smiled a bit "My name is Anya;" she said. "Nice to meet you." She seemed so formal. Plus there was a faint hint of an accent. "You from around here?" Lance asked. "I don't know anyone who wears so little in this weather." Anya seemed hseitant to answer. "Mama and papa came here before I was born;" she said. "Before Quincy, my papa was Russian immigrant to U.S. Mama gave birth here so I am here now." Lance understood a little.

"So are you going home? To your parents?" Lance asked. A sad look passed over Anya's face. "No;" she said. "Mama and Papa were deported. Since I was born in America, I am citizen. They can't deport me so I am ward of government."

It had never occurred to lance that someone would have shuch a terrible thing happen. "What? That's ridiculous!" He said. "You're never gonna see your family ever again?" Anya looked down, trying to hide her tears. "No;" she said. He had to do something. Seperating families was just wrong! "I have an idea!" He said. "Come with me on the blue line! We'll get off at the Millville railway depot! I'll explain on the train!" Anya looked up with startled eyes. "What is this crazy talk?!" She looked around then leaned closer, wispering to Lance. "You can't help me;" she said.  "No one can. Government has eyes everywhere. We'll be sent to prison!"

"You're right about that;" Lance admitted. "But I've been waiting for a moment like this! I'd rather do what's right than obey the rules of this lame place!" Anya blanched with horror. "Don't say such things!" She argued. "We'll be arrested for sure!" Lance was trying to keep his cool, but it was getting harder. "Just play along please?" He begged. "You miss your mom and dad, I can tell." Finally, not without some glaring, Anya relented. "All right, nosy boy;" she said. "I'll go with you but we can't be too stupid."

Minutes later the light rail arrived. Anya and Lance found an isolated area of the car. Making sure transit authority wasn't nearby Lance began revealing his plot. "Here's the deal;" he said. "There's a freight line that goes from Millville northward to Canada. Well sort of. We'll have to get off and find a train in Idaho. From there we'll get into Canada then we go through Alaska. Then we find a freight ship that goes across to Russia." Anya rolled her eyes. "You think this will be easy?" She asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"What about food?"

"We'll figure it out."

"What about warmth?"

"We'll solve that problem too."

"What about The Patriot Battalion?"

"We'll hide!"

"What about border crossing?"

"If we hide well enough, it won't be a problem!"

"What about your family?

"I! I...don't know."

He hadn't thought this through a lot. Lance had just knew in his gut he had to help Anya no matter what. "I guess I'll have to tell them my school sent me on a trip;" he said. "I'll say that the Junior Battalion is going to the National Championships! They know every boy has to join." Anya looked at her co-conpirator stoically. "You think well on your feet;" she said. "Okay, nosy boy, I trust you." Lance was thirlled except, "My name is Lance;" he corrected. "It's not Nosy Boy." Anya smiled impishly. "I call you Nosy Boy;" she said. "It suits you."

The train pulled into Millvile station and the pair disembarked. There was a fence surrounding the frieght yard. "Right, how to get in?" He asked rhetorically. Anya had quick eyes, she spotted an unmanned utility truck. She scrambled into the truck bed and pulled Lance up behind her hiding them both beneath a tarp.

Luckily, the driver returned before too long. Even better still the truck drove right up to a northbound track. The cab door opened and shut, the driver didn't go to the back of his vehicle. Both children listened as footsteps faded into the distance. Lance peeked out of the tarp.

Fortune must have favored them. Not twenty feet away, an empty box car awaited. Lance motioned for Anya to follow him. Every second, they thought they would be caught. Once Anya was safely in the box car, Lance pulled the door shut. He listened for any sound of alarm. Apparently, the cameras in the yard were just for show and no-one paid attention. "Great!" Lance said. "Hopefully we'll be in Canada soon. Then we can get you back to your family."

The trip to Alaska took a week and a half. It was cold but Anya found some air cushion packs and they conserved heat that way. At night they snuck into breakrooms and "borrowed" food from the employee breakroom. There were a couple of times where there were inspections of the cars by Patriot Battalion officers. Somehow inspite of this, both Anya and Lance managed to find good hiding places.

Once they got to Jeneau, things got more complicated. They had to travel with ice truckers and hope their ruse of being Canadian teens on holiday held up. The pair managed to get to a shipping yard and sneak aboard a freighter. Anya assured Lance that the ship with Cyrillic painted on the side was bound for Russia.

Not daring to go below decks, they hid the cargo netting on the back of some shipping containers. This wasn't the best idea. Not long after, both heard heavy, steel toe boots approaching.

A stern looking man in a pea coat with a gray bearded face and Salt and Pepper hair looked right at them. He stode towards them and spoke. "Kak dilla, manchika i mushina!" Both Anya and Lance were tangled up, incapable of fleeing. The man none too gently disentangled the stow aways. "Niet!" Anya cried. "Niet!" The man seemed surprised "Ruski?" He asked her. Anya and the crewman had a rapid fire conversation and Lance was lost. He knew Anya gestured to him and said words like "Mama" and "Papa" a few times. Other than that Lance felt left out.

After a few more interchanges between the two Rusian speakers, Anya explained to Lance. "This man ;" she told him. "I told him what we were doing. His name is Grigori, is captain of boat. He says he knows my family and has agreed to take me home! Speciba, Lance! Thank you!" Lance hadn't expected this. He was too cold to think straight. Lance shivered, locked his knees and collapsed.

He awoke in a warm bed. Grigori was watching him. "You're a lucky idiot, Nosy Boy;" he said. "You had no way of knowing how this would work but you did this anyway." Lance sat up. "I had to help, she belongs with her family. Where's Anya anyway?" Grigori answered him. "She's been taken care of;" he said. "Doctor looked her over. She's fine. You, boy, you know you're never going to be able to go home."

Lance knew President Quincy was merciless. Still it was a shock. "Why?" Lance asked. "Your government monitors everything;" Grigori told him. "They probably saw you and Anya. If they haven't already arrested your family they will. And they might kill you just to set an example." Lance knew the Captain was right. "I will let you stay on my ship as deckhand;" Grigori offered. "You will be safe here and I will teach you Russian. Is only way I can garuntee you Amnesty. Do you accept?" Lance was a little sad. What choice did he have?