I knew where they were taking her.
Martha would be the only Two-fer… They would not allow her to become a martyr.
This time- generational incarceration… not rehabilitation.
No chances would be taken that more innocents might see and follow the dream.
I had been found harvesting my meals from random dumpsters.
Martha took me in.
I was seven.
Seventeen others were advancing in the ruins of the projects upon my initial arrival.
Eleven years later, our numbers had grown.
Command knew of us, but we had been deceptively illusive. We existed on a far grandeur scale than Command could imagine.
Martha, a former Civics teacher before the takeover, had trained us well.
All men were created equal…
All men were endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.
Martha established in us the belief in a government of the people.
We had infiltrated Central Command at all levels.
But even for us, the dream of escaping Heaven’s Gates … not possible.
Martha had sent word…
To whom much is given, much is required.
She may see herself reconciled… but I knew there had to be another answer.
There just had to be…
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Requirements: Using the picture provided, create a flash story of under 200 words.