A cloud escapes my lips as my breath freezes in the air. Crouching, I open my pack and sit on the snow outside the ominous wall. Through a small crack, which I carved with my bare fingers, the warmth of the forbidden place teases chilled hands. Around me, spindly pine trees, craggily bushes, and dead flora stand as silent sentries, observing my crime, waiting for their chance to feel the sun’s rays once more.
I fumble with my pen, pressing my face up against the little hole that should not exist. Inside the palm trees waved lazily and flowers are in full bloom. In the distance waves lapping on an inviting white beach can be heard. A flagstone patio with vintage tables and multicolored umbrellas stains the view. Cozy chairs hold pompous business executives sipping on their pina coladas. The images of the tanned, athletic men and women soaking in their riches sicken me. They are only in their tropical paradise from clawing to the top, stealing and hoarding along the way. Stealing from us. The thought made me bitterly scoff in my head.
I close my eyes. My ears are the only thing useful and needed at the moment, and the sight of those… those… fake people made my skin crawl. Peace enters my mind as I think of food and an insulated place to stay. The shack that is intended to be my home only lies. It is not fit to hold the mice that gnaw and nibble at my feet let alone my dwindling family.
Changes had to occur. I had to make it happen.
Patiently I sit, snow soaking through my thin jeans and wind clutching at my ragged coat. Some useful words had to pop up eventually and waiting is a small price to pay to bring the self indulgent pigs down.
“What are we going to do with the rest of the population,” a husky female voice asked.
My eyes snapped open and I pressed closer to the miniscule gap, pen poised to write each and every utterance henceforth.
“I have also been thinking of that question,” chimed a man, “they don’t seem to be making much of an improvement since the take over, in fact you might say that they have been fading.”
“You must realize that in order to complete the take over, the population must be manageable and confided to a small place,” the female replied.
“Well, there are more than we thought there was. And they aren’t fading as quickly as anticipated,” a new voice with considerable authority.
Peeking through, I saw that the speaker was in fact the top executive himself, Donovan Osoroshii and held my breath. He was previously the Vice President until he launched that first steps to his scheme to segregate the ‘pure’ from the ‘tainted.’ The initial battle wasn’t even entirely concluded before he declared himself ruler.
Donovan’s cruelty and shrewd, business obsessed mind only stretched to the next asset to be added upon the rising pile of ill gotten wares. Waiting for him to continue, I hoped that his speech wasn’t pointed in the direction I foresaw.
“We rule over half the country, leaving the rest of the expanse for the rest of the unfortunates to take refuge. But all that land could be used to create many new business ventures and other important things that we could use to further solidify our victory and commence with the transformation of other parts of the world,” he paused, stroking his chin in contemplation before continuing, “Perhaps we should simply destroy them and secure the land. We have a quarter of the original population, plenty to create our own society. This was our goal at stage one and it should be our goal now. We need to wipe out that remaining grime so our gem of a civilization can finally shine forth into a new generation.”
At the end of his proposal the other leaders clapped and hooted their approval, clearly unconscious to the idea that they were killing innocent human beings like themselves.

“I have one question though,” a petite, auburn haired paper pusher interjected, “How would we be able to do so in a humane way?”

Donovan stared at her, eyebrows knitting closer and closer together in vexation to such a simple question. Then his eyes brightened and he snapped his fingers.

“Well… Thyme is it? We won’t, we will just burn it all down. Our wall has fire shields so we shall be quite safe. And the land won’t need to be cleared for construction afterwards so it is a genius plan!”

“But… that isn’t right… shouldn’t we try to include them…,” Thyme argues in a tiny voice, her blue eyes looking for support in her cause.

Her desperate rebuttal fell flat as icy glares silenced her half hearted reasons. Donovan’s gaze was the most unforgiving of all and he made his decision of what he thought about Thyme clear.

“If you aren’t one hundred percent with us, I will have to declare you an enemy of our fine community,” he sneered, snapping his fingers.

Two beefy men seized her on either side and dragged her towards the only exit in the region. I sat, thinking hard, debating to me, and then stood, slinging my pack around my shoulder. Even if she was one of them, she doesn’t deserve to freeze to death for defending us. I quietly climbed the nearest pine and jumped to the next tree, making my way from tree to tree towards their exit as swiftly as possible. Perhaps I could make use of her.

“But I don’t understand,” I heard Thyme say in a heart broken tone.

The sound of the doors slamming shut interrupted whatever justification she could have scraped together, leaving her to proceed sobbing and shivering. I sighed and dropped down next to her. I startled Thyme to the point where she stopped crying but as a result, she fell backwards onto the hard frozen ground. Without offering to assist her I reach behind and snagged the only form of weapon we were ‘permitted’ to keep, a bow. As I notched the arrow and took aim, Thyme immediately rolled into a ball with her hands covering her fine boned face, begging me not to hurt her.

“What do you know,” was my only question.

Immediately she spilled the beans, informing me that it was not the first time that Donovan has suggested such an outlandish plan. He even was preparing for it, building large flying machines designed to drop fire bombs that hit up to a seventy five mile radius. I wrote down everything she said word for word, keeping it for later so preparations could be made when I went back to my shack.

When silence had fallen for several moments she asked me a question.

“What’s your name?”
I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. No really asks names anymore, because it is a reminder of a time not too long ago where we were as equal as anyone. They feel sad and unfamiliar; being treated like cattle gave most of us the mindset as such. Half of the people in the ‘tainted’ population would walk straight into the fire storm if Donovan commanded it. My job was to not give them the chance to do so.
“Caydence,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket to hand to Thyme.

I may not have much but in the event that I see someone that just so happens to be in more need, I help them any way in my power. Besides, she was only wearing a very thin, strapless beach top and a blowy bohemian skirt. Since there was no point to stand around for the guards to run us off we set off to my one room trash heap. Appearing to be a mismatched stack of driftwood, the shack stood on a small knoll with willows partially protecting it from the forceful wind. Light bled out into the thick night air, beckoning us enter its embrace and let warmth flood our beings.
Unfortunately it is misleading because as we stepped inside I could hear Thyme’s poorly disguised sigh of disappointment. I snatched the tattered blanket off my mat and tossed it to her, giving her a look that could have only said “bite me, its not like I choose this.” Before I could have possibly have rustled up food I was impaled in the stomach by my younger siblings. The two of them greeted me like wriggling puppies, sticking their runny noses in my face. Our family used to be larger, it used to seven of us all together including mum and dad. They died in the Move, a forced pilgrimage to our desolate tundra. My other two siblings fell sick and I couldn’t get them proper medical care. The thought infuriated me that at times simple antibiotics were the only thing that stood between one and death. The twins’ names are Robin and Jeffery and they consider me as a mother since our real mother passed. They don’t remember much about her so it is fortunate that they still have the cheerful disposition that only children possess. They always help me to see the light in all the darkness that we are constantly surrounded by. I wrestled together a small meal of canned corn beef hash and bread with the mold cut out of it. Soon afterwards, I put the kids to bed with their favorite bed time story and led Thyme to my mat. I could not let sleep take me so I sat up thinking of my plans.
The gears whirled as I pieced it all together, a new plan forming, slow at first then snowballing into my own genius revelation. I escaped the house just after midnight, determined to not plan, just to do. All of my planning to this point went to waste, all of it failing to do the job that is intended. For a reason beyond my comprehension I trusted Thyme to take care of my angels. I made my way to a hollow tree that I marked for a special opportunity. The bag was still there, and I pulled out the garments within it.

Walking up to the door felt wrong because sneaking around seemed to be second nature to me throughout this paradox of a time. Shivering in my formal dress I pounded on the gate, patting my hair into place. I adjusted the pack on my shoulder, hoping no questions would be asked. The guards double took when they saw me in my finery standing amongst the snow drifts and immediately cracked it enough for me to step in. A man was waiting to greet me as I stepped in. He was holding a clip board, a list. My fingers twitched nervously when he asked me my name.
“Caydence Huntington the fifth. My parents were lost in the move because of all the dirt roaming around. The rest of my family perished as well. I was delayed, my sense of direction does not serve me well,” I say, trying to keep an airy, snooty tone to my otherwise mouse like voice.
“Huntington…. Huntington… ah, here we are… yes, everything seems to be in order, all your assets are still in the bank if you wish to retrieve them,” the man said, bowing out of my way as I hesitantly take a step forward. Only a fool would not ask questions
I never wanted this. I may wish to be warm ad properly clothed and fed but to be a part of a society where they only think of themselves, where they would kill innocent people just to make a quick dollar; death would sooner smite me where I stood. My parents felt the same way. They were moving with the poor unfortunates, acting like everyone else, giving up all their money for what they believed was just. Now I was going to make it right and watch as this sinful place goes up like a field during the dry season back home.
I walk swiftly around the colossal place, peering around for a maintenance entry way of some sort. Around me, a huge dome resembling that of a football stadium loomed around me. The top appeared transparent to let the moon light spill down, blanketing me with comfort in such unfamiliar territory. The ground beneath my feet is now replaced with cement and my pine trees are replaced with walls. A few palm groves speckled my sight line but the most that could be seen were towering building everywhere, belching out thick smoke that drifts towards massive fans blowing the pollution out into the real world. A janitorial door greets my vision and I stowed myself away in it instantaneously.
“Hey, who are yo-,” a blunt hit to the base of the skull stopped the janitors words in his tracks, causing him to sink to the floor with a trickle of blood dripping from his open jaw.
Better him then me, I thought as I scrambled to find the door that I knew was there. It led into the ducts of the entire kingdom. They had to be cleaned regularly because of the sickly black smog that is transferred through them. The door was the size of a person and the sooty ducts were the same. Soon a gently incline could be perceived and I had to crawl on hands and knees, grime caking them. At every vent I stopped to peer down, searching for the correct location. At every junction I took a turn, possibly the wrong turn, going farther and farther into the labyrinth of smelly, suffocating ducts. Finally, I look down to see huge machines in like a hanger of sorts. I kick with all my might at the vent and it clatters down to the concrete floor twenty feet below. I poke my head out and survey the area, making sure that no one heard the racket. I hooted to confirm my solitude and lowered myself down, flipping to the ground and landing primly on my toes. I chuckled to myself and then explored the mysterious mechanics around me. The large beasts grimaced at me with sharp iron fangs, perturbing wings jutting out of the sides as if sewn on by a mad scientist. Underneath every contraption a huge five hundred gallon drum filled with a concoction of poisons lay strapped snugly under the belly. Each drum had a label, specifying that they contained cyanide, gasoline, diesel, mustard gas, and other noxious venoms whose names are completely beyond my comprehension.
There was no way I would be able to destroy such unstable chemicals and escape with my life. I contemplated my options while striding around the cavernous room. A map on the wall indicated that the area was in the middle of the super structure, the dome like top being made to open so the tin can had the ability to lift off and obliterate anything in their path. Tick tock tick tock, an office with an open door appears and the clock inside is the only sound to be heard. With each second I realize it is a second closer to the demise of my people, the real people of the United States. Paperwork dusted the desk and upon inspection I find that the destruction is scheduled for the next day. I check the date on my satellite watch and make the connection that I am a day off, and annihilation commences at dawn.
Now my choices were slim. I reach into my pack, hoping something would be of use in the situation I have fallen into. The only thing I find is a book of matches, strips of cloth, and a few alcohol bottles tossed together haphazardly. So much for my Molotov cocktail plan…. Then my mind clicked and I opened a bottle, stuffing the rough cloth into the mouth. At this point, nothing meant more than the survival of the poor, innocent souls that suffered outside the pearly gates of this manufactured heaven. Scrambling around the office I found what I was looking for. Setting down the bottle I read the instructions and terms of use before pressing the big red button. In Case of Emergency: Press and Hold thus setting off the alarm and thus evacuating all perishable and survival products. In fine print they elaborated, saying that the button did not sound the alarm of evacuation of person’s, for in the event of it being pushed, all persons should already be evacuated. The button propels out all the emergency food supplies and all the survival goods that those rich bastards have stockpiled, just in case something were to happen.
I shook my head at the stupidity of such high officials… why make two buttons, for indeed I heard no alarm go off. I picked up the bottle and held it for some time before making my final decision. Nothing could prevent me from my ultimate sacrifice for the nation I love and the people I love. Nothing could take away the freedom we all deserve and the rights so many others have died for. I would die to restore those liberties to everyone. Slowly, ever so slowly I walked up to the mechanical monsters and I slowly climbed up the one in the dead center. The gas tank opening was the size of my head and when I took the cap off the smell almost ended me. Thinking of the twins and my parents and every other person who has ever been stomped on by the industry I lit the match. Such a small flame, created by a revolutionary, causing immorality’s ultimate demise, could never hold such beauty. Yet, I saw the beauty of the flame, clinging to life on a tiny stick, hungry for its chance to make a mark on this dark, ominous world. The cloth caught fire, flame eating its way down it to the bottle before I tossed it in the tank.
I leapt from the machine right when the Molotov blew and after two nanoseconds, the rest of the beast blew, starting a chain reaction. All around me the little flame grew into a hungry animal, greedily swallowing everything, and thanking me for helping it grow and blossom. Smiling, I embraced it, letting the warmth flood my being. Who knew such a small, seemingly insignificant turn of events could create many an enlightening butterfly effect towards unity.