Suzanne Morse has joined our Independence contest, with a dystopian tale, reminding us that independence is often hard won.

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FREEDOM FIGHTER

Thump, thump, the sound of her footfalls in the dark as she ran through the plaza, dodging the cement benches.  Slivers of light danced in front of her as she sped past a streetlight.  But mostly, she tried to stay in the shadows, not to be seen.  She had to escape.  To freedom.  But she could hear them, their heels clomping in the dark as they chased her.  They were going to execute her in the morning, but she had escaped, squeezed her way out through the tiny window.  Now she was running for her life.  She gulped in air as she bolted around a building, down another dimly-lit street.  She had been protesting the oppression of women, and they were here to silence her.  She could hear them just behind her, the grunts, the tap-tapping of eager feet.  She ducked into the shadows and thrust forward with everything she had.  She just had to make it to the nearby hills, where she knew they were.  The Freedom Fighters.

They’d been called Women Terrorists.  The would sneak out at night, like phantoms, kill an official on the street, in his home, bomb a building owned by the oppressive men, then swiftly disappear unnoticed.  The women who lived in this city awed them, but never spoke aloud of it.  They were the Freedom Fighters, their future saviors.  Now Barbara ran for those hills.  It was join the fight or die.

Suddenly, a silhouette emerged from the darkness and grabbed her arm.  She turned and clawed at its face, but another shadow threw her to the ground.  She bit and scratched, attempting to wriggle free, but now there were 4 of them.  She chomped down on the hand that now dragged her into the dark alley.  She held the skin between her teeth, tasting the blood.  In the blackness, she heard a woman’s voice, low and guttural.  “You were right, Karen.  She is a fighter.  She can do well to join us.  Meliska will be pleased.  Bring her to the Lair once the others have completed their mission.”

A sack slid over her head, but Barbara suddenly relaxed.  They were the Freedom Fighters and they had come to recruit her.   She was loaded into a vehicle.  As she sat motionless in the dark, she heard the women whispering, murmuring.  More pattering of feet as the phantom women slid into the car.

“We got them all, Varuna!” a woman’s voice exclaimed

All of the executioners, we killed,” another woman added enthusiastically.

“Then we have completed the mission successfully,” the first woman’s voice spoke.  “Where’s Daphne?”

“She was killed in the Plaza.  They shot her.  Her blood is part of the sidewalk now.”

There was a long, awkward silence as Varuna felt the vehicle whisk away.  She could hear them breathing in the dark.

“We will honor her at the Lair,” the first woman said.

Barbara was free.  The life and death struggle was over.  For the night..

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Oh mystery prize wherefore art thou? Waiting on a shelf somewhere, soon to be posted, once all July’s entries have been reviewed and considered. July 31^st is the last date to enter so don’t delay:

www.awordwithyoupress.com/2010/07/04/we-hold-this-contest-to-be-self-evident/