because they knew the full truth about him or his hidden allies. Rather, it was because he was red and they were blue; he was one political party, and they were another. Divided as they might have believed themselves to be, there was one thing, one simple lie that they would all begin to accept and share, fusing them together as strongly as any flag or belief could have. It was the statement that began to touch the lips of almost all as they went about their daily routines.
We are not safe.
That evening, America watched newscasts that portrayed a humbled yet determined president leaving his plane hand in hand with his lovely wife. They watched Maria’s father, Jacob Brekor, follow behind them. A wealthy and busy billionaire, Mr. Brekor had dropped everything to be there and lend his support to the president. The country loved him for it. Both Americans and Europeans applauded the kindness of the man who regulated most of the world’s wealth with his company. That is, a man who could bring the world’s economy to its knees at any given moment. Others could be seen leaving the plane, including the popular Speaker of the House, Rhys Howard. A man, Lukas inwardly believed, who was there only to take his place should he fail as president. Many more followed behind Lukas, but the cameras were focused elsewhere by the time Lukas’ old friend, Sūn Vetrov, a relatively unknown man with Chinese and Russian roots, exited the plane. Sūn—a hard man, who secretly owned the largest stockpile of ex-Soviet weapons and military equipment—quietly departed for his nearby plane to travel back to Moscow so that he may continue his work.
Those few powerful men went their separate ways as they began to maneuver themselves, and that which they controlled, for the coming Purge. For his part, Lukas would continue to quietly declare to America that she was not yet safe. As Americans digested the deceit being fed to them, trying to decide which flavor of the lie they preferred, most remained unaware of the storm clouds that were gathering just over the horizon. None could have suspected the horrific truth that was bearing down on them all.
None, that is, except the dead.
C hapter T hree
Words from Beyond
Three times the alarm had cried out and three times Adam had hit snooze. An hour or so had passed since Sarah had silently risen and left the room to tend to the kids and the day’s beginnings. The sun had already begun to trickle through the wooden blinds, inviting Adam to wake and join the day. He pulled the pillow tightly over his head. For a few minutes he lay there motionless, wanting nothing more than to remain in bed in his impassive state of indifference. It wasn’t that he was exhausted and required more sleep. In fact, he had experienced night after night of restless slumber, unable to sleep much at all over the past couple of months. The truth was that despite his best efforts he still hadn’t managed to catch his breath since Joe’s passing and he was starting to wonder if he ever would. Eventually, when he had gathered the little courage he could to face the day’s beckoning call, he rolled out of bed.
He dressed himself slowly, grabbing whatever clothes he found first, and left the second story guest room, not caring to bother with a shower. He paused next to a tall framed mirror in the carpeted hallway outside his bedroom. Adam was fit for a thirty-four-year-old man. Though the daily routines and desk jobs had caused most men to grow soft with time, he had always found the value in maintaining his physique with long runs in the mornings. But lately he had little drive for anything other than his day-to-day basic needs. His normally clean-shaven face now displayed a scraggly beard lining his jaw and upper lip. His dark brown hair had grown out longer than it had been since his college days. Despite his best intentions, Adam was in no hurry to change a thing. He had always thought he would
We are not safe.
That evening, America watched newscasts that portrayed a humbled yet determined president leaving his plane hand in hand with his lovely wife. They watched Maria’s father, Jacob Brekor, follow behind them. A wealthy and busy billionaire, Mr. Brekor had dropped everything to be there and lend his support to the president. The country loved him for it. Both Americans and Europeans applauded the kindness of the man who regulated most of the world’s wealth with his company. That is, a man who could bring the world’s economy to its knees at any given moment. Others could be seen leaving the plane, including the popular Speaker of the House, Rhys Howard. A man, Lukas inwardly believed, who was there only to take his place should he fail as president. Many more followed behind Lukas, but the cameras were focused elsewhere by the time Lukas’ old friend, Sūn Vetrov, a relatively unknown man with Chinese and Russian roots, exited the plane. Sūn—a hard man, who secretly owned the largest stockpile of ex-Soviet weapons and military equipment—quietly departed for his nearby plane to travel back to Moscow so that he may continue his work.
Those few powerful men went their separate ways as they began to maneuver themselves, and that which they controlled, for the coming Purge. For his part, Lukas would continue to quietly declare to America that she was not yet safe. As Americans digested the deceit being fed to them, trying to decide which flavor of the lie they preferred, most remained unaware of the storm clouds that were gathering just over the horizon. None could have suspected the horrific truth that was bearing down on them all.
None, that is, except the dead.
C hapter T hree
Words from Beyond
Three times the alarm had cried out and three times Adam had hit snooze. An hour or so had passed since Sarah had silently risen and left the room to tend to the kids and the day’s beginnings. The sun had already begun to trickle through the wooden blinds, inviting Adam to wake and join the day. He pulled the pillow tightly over his head. For a few minutes he lay there motionless, wanting nothing more than to remain in bed in his impassive state of indifference. It wasn’t that he was exhausted and required more sleep. In fact, he had experienced night after night of restless slumber, unable to sleep much at all over the past couple of months. The truth was that despite his best efforts he still hadn’t managed to catch his breath since Joe’s passing and he was starting to wonder if he ever would. Eventually, when he had gathered the little courage he could to face the day’s beckoning call, he rolled out of bed.
He dressed himself slowly, grabbing whatever clothes he found first, and left the second story guest room, not caring to bother with a shower. He paused next to a tall framed mirror in the carpeted hallway outside his bedroom. Adam was fit for a thirty-four-year-old man. Though the daily routines and desk jobs had caused most men to grow soft with time, he had always found the value in maintaining his physique with long runs in the mornings. But lately he had little drive for anything other than his day-to-day basic needs. His normally clean-shaven face now displayed a scraggly beard lining his jaw and upper lip. His dark brown hair had grown out longer than it had been since his college days. Despite his best intentions, Adam was in no hurry to change a thing. He had always thought he would
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