Sinister Pretender

Hiding behind a fake identity in a dystopian future.

Sinister Pretender

by Damon Nomad

          Lucius took in a deep breath as he stood in the middle of the road. He felt uneasy staring at the lonely stretch of asphalt. A sense of emptiness had been troubling him for some time. He closed his eyes for a few moments. In a few hours, he would be in a small town beyond these desert mountains. He would have a new name and identity. Lucius Franklin would be left standing on this desolate highway.
          He silently repeated, I'm Samuel Moore. He kept repeating it as he climbed back on the electric motorbike. His future would depend on how well he played this role.
          ***
          Several weeks later, 'Samuel' listened to a mechanical voice from a loudspeaker on a van as it crept along the street. 'Honor Brigade Mandatory Search' blasted out in a repetitive loop. His 'uncle' and 'aunt' had been through these searches before. He was twenty-one, but his baby face made it easy for him to pass as the seventeen-year-old nephew of 'Uncle Ray'.
          Troopers pounded on the door. "Honor Brigade. Open Up."
          Uncle Ray looked at him. "Just keep reading the book." Ray got up and opened the door.
          Three jackbooted thugs strutted inside. Their dark gray uniforms, black berets, and sidearms made the perfect ensemble for the 'storm troopers'.
          The leader stared at the ID card for a while. It was a high-quality forgery, and these local guards didn't have any high-tech gear. "Your nephew?" He handed the card back to Ray.
          "Visiting for the summer." Ray sat down next to Ruth.
          The three searched the small one-story house. Twenty minutes later, the uniformed bullies came back into the den. The lieutenant saluted, "Good evening, and thank you for your cooperation."
          Ray closed the door as the troopers headed back to their van. Ruth exhaled loudly as he sat down beside her. "I hate them."
          "They're just doing their jobs." He paused, "Most of them don't even think about it. The one in charge was barely thirty, I would guess."
          Ruth sighed with a shrug. "Let's skip worship service tomorrow."
          "People will talk. We need to go."
          She stared for a moment, "The pastor is hard to take after a search night."
          ***
          Samuel sat with Ray and Ruth in their assigned spots in the local New American Church of God the next morning. The revised Constitution declared NACG the national religion of the New United States and the only legal denomination.
          The preacher cleared his throat as he took his spot at the pulpit. "You youngsters who are here today with your parents. You have studied the Second Civil War in your history classes. It started nearly one hundred years ago and lasted nearly three years. A bloody and horrendous war, with nearly fifty million deaths. But it cleansed this nation of all sorts of perversions that had crept into society, things the history books don't always adequately explain."
          He waved a finger in the air. "Mixing of the races, foreign blood contaminating our national purity, and sexual perversions that attacked the foundation of the family with a man and woman as husband and wife. We all know how important that cleansing was, young and old."
          He paused and took a sip of water. "There were searches in our neighborhoods last night. There is one last deviance that we are trying to stamp out. These sinister creatures who blend in and pretend to be like us. I have been told that the government suspects that someone in our community is supporting the underground road for these monsters. Helping them hide and make their way to secret havens they have carved out beyond the border of our state."
          He slammed a fist on the lectern. "Anyone helping these deviants will burn in the fires of hell. I pray it is not true, but if you know someone giving aid to the sinisters, you must act. Report them to the Honor Brigade, or tell me. It doesn't matter if it is a family member or a neighbor. Turn them in, or you will burn for eternity as well."
          Lucius remembered a classmate of his when he was nine or ten. Anna May told the class that prewar Bibles didn't say anything about the sinisters. She said her grandmother told her about seeing an old Bible when she was a child and that being left-handed wasn't a sin.
          The teacher slapped Anna May in the face. She refused to take it back even as the principal used a paddle on her in front of the class. Why was she so stubborn? Where did a child get such strength?
          ***
          A few weeks later, Samuel found Ray and Ruth in the kitchen in the early morning. He sat at the kitchen table. "That's a big breakfast. Need me to do something?"
          "We've got it under control." Ruth cracked an egg into the skillet. "We're going to need our energy today."
          Samuel asked Ray, "How we gonna make it through? Driving across state borders is a big deal, right? Facial recognition, I'll never make it."
          Ray sipped his coffee. "Don't worry, we'll get you safely across."
          He wondered why the elderly couple risked their lives. Mandatory death penalty for harboring sinisters. Their caring and kind ways had affected him, but their time together was about over. He couldn't afford to be sentimental.
          Samuel carried his backpack as he got into the back seat. Ruth got into the front passenger seat, and Ray slid into the driver's seat. He wouldn't be doing much driving; the vehicle would be in autodrive most of the trip.
          Ray turned around, "We will eat lunch and dinner at restaurants and take our toilet breaks at rest stops. Just a typical family on a trip."
          The electric motor whirred to life, and Ray tapped the driving directions into the driver's console. "Okay, here we go."
          ***
          Ruth held Samuel's arm as they approached the door of the diner. Ruth whispered, "It's been a long day. Bathroom break, some rest, and dinner. Less than an hour to the border."
          The hostess seated them in a quiet corner booth. There was a television mounted on the wall. The volume was turned down low. The waiter took their orders and delivered their drinks minutes later. "Your food will be out soon." He headed towards another booth.
          They heard the sound of dramatic music on the television and the voice of an anchorwoman. "Tonight, we have a special news report. It's a sensitive subject; the behavioral disorder that continues to plague our country. This story may not be suitable for young children."
          The anchorwoman introduced a man sitting next to her, "This is Doctor Neil Waldon, he is a psychiatrist and expert on Sinistromanuality. More commonly known as left-handedness, and the people referred to as sinisters. Give us the headline, as a starting point, Doctor Waldon."
          The doctor answered, "The word Sinistromanual comes from the Latin root sinistro, meaning sinister and awkward or left-sided. It is in the diagnostic manual as a severe behavioral disorder."
          The anchorwoman asked, "So, what about this idea that a vocal minority suggests. People are just born that way." The anchor paused, "Of course, this is not my view. But these people say, we should learn to tolerate them."
          She frowned, "Or even accommodate them."
          "First of all, this is medically false." The doctor stared into the camera. "And contrary to the teachings of the New American Bible. It is a behavioral choice, a disturbing deviance from normality, and a sin."
          The anchorwoman asked in a solemn tone, "What about the abscission facilities? It has been suggested it's not a humane solution."
          "The families have their chance to set them straight until they turn thirteen. The hard-core cases get another five years in the correction camps with focused professional counseling. If that doesn't work, they get another six months at the abscission facilities to stop their deviant behavior. The only alternative if they persist with their perversion is surgical amputation."
          ***
          The final portion of their route was on a small county road. It was getting dark, and a dim light was a short distance ahead. A small guardhouse that would be occupied by a single Honor Brigade trooper. It was the border, and there were no other vehicles in sight. Samuel couldn't imagine how they planned to get past.
          Ray took manual control and pulled to the side of the road. He flashed the headlights twice. Another vehicle flashed its lights twice from the opposite side of the border.
          Samuel spoke quietly, "So, I'm gonna walk through. No recorded vehicle crossing. What about the guard?"
          Ray and Ruth stayed quiet as Ray drove toward the gate.
          Moments later, Ray stopped the car within a few yards of the road barrier. An elderly couple stood next to a vehicle just across the border. Ray spoke, "Get your things. Quickly."
          Samuel grabbed his backpack and followed Ray and Ruth.
          A young border officer came out of the shack. "Hurry up." His rifle was hanging across his abdomen.
          The guard is in on it. Damn traitor. Lucius reached into the side pocket of his backpack and pulled out a handheld firearm. He pointed the weapon at the guard. "Everyone freeze! Undercover Honor Brigade." The time had come to shed the skin of Samuel.
          Lucius instinctively smiled with satisfaction. Four underground road operatives and a turncoat border guard. He would definitely get a commendation and a bonus for this bust. Three months undercover as a runaway sinister in the Midwest and getting connected to Ray and Ruth had paid off. He just needed to get to the radio in the guardhouse.
          Lucius heard Ray shout, "No!"
          He felt Ray push him, and he saw the guard pull his rifle up to a firing position.
          Lucius's training kicked in, and he rolled to the ground as he heard a short burst of automatic fire. He came to a kneeling position and put a round in the guard's head and another in his center of mass.
          The other couple were on their knees near Ray and Ruth. Lucius' arrogant excitement turned to panic and worry. He rushed over and he knelt beside Ruth and held her hand.
          "Ruth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
          A warm smile came across her lips. "You were doing what you thought was right."
          He moved closer, "You don't think sinisters are dangerous? Why?"
          "I believe in a God of love and that we are all God's children, regardless of our differences." She paused, "Doesn't that feel like the obvious truth?"
          That was her last breath before she died.
          The elderly man stood up. "They are both dead. We won't cause you any trouble, young man." He reached down and helped his wife stand up. "We always knew we might pay a price for doing this work."
          "Why did you put your lives at risk?" Lucius waved at Ruth and Ray, "Why?"
          The woman answered, "Do you believe in something more important than yourself?"
          Lucius didn't respond because he didn't believe in anything. Not really.
          Lucius gestured at their vehicle. "Go home. I'm going to call this in on the radio." He paused, "I'll say the guard panicked and shot Ray and Ruth. I had to shoot him because he turned his gun on me."
          The man asked, "Then what will you do?"
          Lucius took Ray's mobile communicator from his pocket. "We will stay in touch. I'm going to help you get more people to safe havens."
          The elderly man crept closer. "They will publicly execute you if they catch you. Make an example of you."
          An image of the lonely stretch of road flashed back to him. The old Lucius Franklin would forever be staring down that deserted highway. He didn't want to fill that emptiness again. "I want to believe in something."


A story inspired by an image and current events.
Word Count (1990)

         6