New World Order: Prologue, Part Five

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.

The chain-link fence trailed along as far as his eye could see. He continued to the nearest section. The whole world had been watching this strip of barren land. People had died here, slaughtered like animals. More would. Let everyone watch now too and see history unveil her next Age, the age of Salvation.

A voice amplified by a loudspeaker came from the other side. He didn't understand this jabber either but their intent was clear. They were commanding him to get away from the fence. They dared make demands of him? Well they would learn who was in charge soon enough.

When he was within ten feet of the shaking metal, a spray of gunfire ricocheted off his chest. He laughed deeply and placed both hands on the fence and pulled them together. Metal groaned. More bullets pelted him. He grabbed more and more of the fence, pulling it up, balling it up like newspaper. Down the line the posts bent toward him and then popped out of the ground.

A whistling sound grew louder and then the ground exploded around him.

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