There is a slum far from the cities and far from the adults called ‘Blumsfeld’ where children and teens live in harmony. The children live in small huts made or abandoned buildings, it is a world apart from the cities & are vastly different from one another. The slum is free where anyone does anything with an emphasis on keeping good morality in mind; savagery doesn‘t exist in Blumsfeld. The cities have tall skyscrapers and bright LED screens which block the eyes from seeing the majestic sky and distract it’s people from real issues, as for the slums, all is pure and relaxing to the eye. You could see the orange sun bowing down to the earth in front of it as well as rising in it‘s pink glow daily. In the city those the age of 8 to 19 don’t have a choice when the military asks for a draft when time calls, the slum is the safe haven & the reason why youngsters travel day and night to such a utopia. The upper elite are invincible to the draft so they have nothing to fear while those below go into hiding and smuggling has become a booming business. Their families try their best efforts to divert the authorities from knowing about the trail to the slums by taking on jobs from shady characters, these jobs range from working for the mob or being taken into underground Brothels. Being caught with a lie can result in a public execution where the masses simulcast online and on telescreens, but it‘s worth the salvation for the young. People call the slums ‘uninhabitable’, but the ones with a normal functioning brain see it the other way.
The First Hour
Midnight, Blumfeld is dormant for now in it’s ubiquitous pitch blackness as all it’s residents sleep in their homes. Everyone except for one boy going on being a man, he stands in front of his broken mirror while his ‘at heart’ wife looks at him from her bed.
“Wake the children, it‘s time.” Said the leader of freedom, as he is known as by his wife and the children of the slum. “We’ll meet up at the plaza.”
His mute wife jumped off her bed and ran barefoot through the crumbled roads and into the abandoned church tower to blow on a longhorn, emitting a large roar that woke everyone in Blumsfeld. The lights from the huts began to illuminate the slum; everybody ranging from a very young adolescent to a late teenager began to march to the local plaza holding their own assortment of weapons. They held switchblades, bricks, mini dynamite sticks, kitchen knives, torches and slingshots; they prepared for the inevitable.
The plaza is the only place where meetings or celebrations can be held in all of ‘Blumsfeld’ amongst trash cans blazing with burning fire, a dead dry fountain and overturned cars. The children sat on the metal seats and benches as they wait for the arrival of the Leader with his speech. While the residents waited, a small case of face paint was handed around, they painted their faces as their young childish faces turned into masks of battle and war, for this was not an occasion to be their age. The horn roars it’s loud and striking sound again, everyone rose from their seats and watched as the Leader of Freedom appeared on stage in his red cape, battered hockey mask tied to his head in torn cloth & chest armor made from scraps of metal. His muscles began to twitch by the reception of the audience, he didn’t expect this much of a turnout & so he was ready to speak into the microphone on the gazebo he stood in.
“My fellow ‘Escapers’, young and old, dark and light, tall and short; we will be at war with the men in the suits as you‘ve heard.”
Every kid and teen hissed at the bear mention of the men in the suits, a boy in the back began to shout his remark. “Fuck those fuckers!”
The crowd cheered and clapped in spite of their enemy.
The Leader of Freedom rose his hand as a gesture for everyone to keep quiet. “They found out where we are, where we live and they want us to join them in their militia. We’re going to be saved they say. Busses and men in armor are coming here to try to take us away and give us what they call ‘Hospitality’. Hospitality? Apparently their definition of hospitality is ‘taking us to a military recruitment center, Forcefully signing shit we don’t want to, with a gun on our heads, forced to fire at paper targets along with live targets, the targets they want us to shoot at regardless of what they are. That’s not hospitality, that’s one man with the power to do anything they want whether we want to or not, and they want us to come with them. No! No to their stupid imperialistic wars, they shouldn’t decide for us. And what’s there to take over, the whole world is owned by the world government! Canada is a post apocalyptic wasteland, do they want the moon now? Drafting is the reason why we left the cities and now drafting is the reason why they want to come back. Are we going to let them draft us in their war?”
“No!!!!” Cried the crowd.
“Are they going to get us, shove us into their busses and force us to fight alongside the soldiers that kill innocents?”
“Hell No!!!!”
“Are we going to bring them hell?”
“Hell yes!!!!!!” shouted the audience of kids as they rose their seats, holding their own weapons.
“They are coming at us in a matter of hours, I say we give ‘em hell!”
The Second Hour
Three shielded school buses could be seen from the rooftops, traveling on the outskirts outside ‘Blumsfeld;’ they rode through the dusty sand, leaving a large trail of dust as if it was making a sandstorm. A boy in dirty acid washed jeans stood atop an abandoned building as he looked through his purple and green binoculars.
“The three buses look armored, they’re coming in a single file line.” Said the boy as he zoomed into his scope to inspect the drivers. “Looks like steel Kevlar armor and helmets.”
The Leader of Freedom hid alongside the other kids as they all laid stomach flat on the flat rooftops of an abandoned building.
“They’re nearing here, are my bombers ready?” he said.
Three kids held out their small sticks of dynamite. “We’re ready to blow shit up!” They replied.
The buses neared the plaza, the tension was beginning to heat up, the moment of time was upon everyone.
“They’re parking. They’re parking…. They‘re out of the bus. ” said the boy
“I’ll give the call” Said the Leader of Freedom “But for now, stay put.”
The three kids holding dynamite grew eager, they were tempted like trigger happy rednecks.
Twelve men in black armor and assault rifles exited the busses & waited for orders. A gruff man wearing casual military attire stepped out of a bus, stepping on a piece of sticky pink gum.
“Ugh, kids.” Grumbled the Captain. “Let’s get those midget bastards! Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir yes sir!!” Shouted the armed troops
“If anything attacks, Shoot to kill. Hoorah!”
“HOORAH!”
Every soldier began to kick the down the doors and ransacked the abandoned buildings / concrete huts, looking for children and teenagers.
The Leader yanked out an arrow from his satchel and readied his metal crossbow. “Okay guys we only get one, light those sticks up and toss them into the bus gas tanks, is that clear? Try not to get caught.” He whispered.
The three boys nodded their heads and jumped off the roof & into the bags of trash.They rose from their landing and stealthily maneuvered their way around the soldier’s sights.
The Leader of Freedom checked on the three kids with the dynamite, they were nearing the buses.
“Good, good.”
The gruff captain pulled out his handheld electronic device and began fiddling with it while he waited; each child opened the small compartment door on the sides of the bus as quietly as they could.
“On my mark, we light up these sticks, and we run like hell. Got it?” Whispered one of the kids.
“Yeah.” nodded the other two.
All three of the children chose their bus and prepared for what was about to unfold.
“5...4..3..2..1..NOW!”
The first child lit up his stick and tossed it into the small hole which fell into a gas tank, then ran away to safety.
The second did the same but the third child grew very nervous & accidentally dropped his stick of dynamite. He fumbled to pick it up as it fell into the ground, the fuse grew shorter and shorter until.
‘Pop’
The boy’s left hand became a knob of meat and blood.
“God damnit! No no no!!!” Growled the Leader of Freedom!
The Captain turned his head from his gadget and saw two kids running across the crumbled streets.
“Hey, kids, come…” Growled the captain, but the explosion soaked him and the boy in a blue flame, killing them both instantaneously.
Every soldier rushed out of the homes to see the commotion, the flames of the explosion had turned the captain into a pile of black ash and cooked red meat.
“SHIT!” Yelled one of the soldiers.
“Fuck.” Said the Leader of Freedom. “Alright, it’s 50 of us and 12 of them, they can’t get us now. Let’s show them, we’re kids and we don’t give a damn about their military!”
Everyone behind the Leader of Freedom began to stand up and grab hold of their weapons, they were ready for attack. “If we are to die, it would not be in vain. Let’s get them!”
They all jumped off the roof and into trash bags and rushed towards these corrupt soldiers. The fights were scattered around like rival ants fighting over the same piece of melted candy. A gang fight which looked more like a bloody football match rather than a fight between kids and adults.
A kid threw a brick at a soldier’s visor, shattering and piercing the soldier’s face. As the soldier fell, the kid jumped onto the soldier and began to smash the brick into his face, like jamming a rock into a lump of clay.
Another soldier began firing his rifle into the air to scare the kids, but they wrapped their arms around the soldier’s legs, stabbing his legs with kitchen knives.
There were children being captured in nets by a buff, steroid abusing man who was not letting the children get to him.
“Damn midget punks, kids should have been aborted then I wouldn't be in this piss Christ mission. Was meant to be deployed to Ontario!”
The Leader stood a distance behind the buff man and aimed his crossbow at the back of his head. The arrow launched from the scrap metal barrel and shot through the man’s head, escaping from a spot in between his eyes.
“MY FACE!!!” Slurred the steroid man in agony.
The Leader of Freedom pulled out his handmade blade from his sheath and ran towards the remaining soldiers who are still acing for a fight.
The Leader yelled his angry war cry as he swiped his blade at the soldier’s fingers, legs and slicing necks. The battle was far from over, there were still a few soldiers to take out.
“Come at me! Come and get it!!!!” yelled a soldier as he began to fire electric droplets at the Leader, but he resisted against the bolts which surged his whole body.
“What the…?”
The soldier began to fire the last of the remaining ammo, the leader was still standing on his feet as if nothing had penetrated him, but his muscles began to fail little by little.
“He’s still moving?!” Yelled one of the soldiers.
All of the Leader’s allies were either dead or captured in nets, the other soldiers began to form around the leader as he continued to walk towards them.
“Ready your guns men…….Fire!”
The four remaining soldiers began to fire their electric guns at the leader; the electric bullets stuck the leader’s legs, arms and chest like harsh wasp stings.
“Leave the kids!” Growled the leader as he continued resisting.
“Keep firing!”
Each sting was getting painful by the millisecond, the leader tried to resist these stings until he blacked out.
There was nothing he could have done, the rest of the kids were to be found eventually, hopefully his ‘at heart’ wife was not to be captured. Lord knows what these soldiers would do to her if they did.
The Leader of Freedom did all that he could to stop the militia, but they did not give up.
“Wake up” Said a gruff voice as he was slapped. The lights blinded the Leader, all he could see was white.
“What’s your name?”
“Leader of Freedom. I am the Leader of Freessdom!”
“Hehehe, not anymore.”