Agenda 21 (2012) by Glenn Beck

Author:Glenn Beck [Beck, Glenn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Thrillers, Fiction, Political, General
ISBN: 9781476717005
Publisher: Threshold Editions
Published: 2012-11-20T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Morning. Bright sunlight. A new day. A new beginning. John had said everything was going to be all right. Funny how I believed those simple words from a friend more than news and rumors of war spoken by Authority Figures.

The storm had stopped and the raindrops on the leaves beyond the fence sparkled like crystals in the early morning light.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” I said out loud to myself as I got my nourishment cube out of my storage box. “http://authors.simonandschuster.com/Glenn-Beck clipboardadtimEverything’s going to be all right.” I changed into my Re-Cy uniform.

The map had dried overnight but now was crinkly harder to fold. I did the best I could and then pushed it back deep into the mat. There, in the mat’s far corner, a place where you’d never lay your head, I felt a smooth, firm lump. Mother had placed something deep in the mat between the layers of padding. I pulled and ripped until I felt an object. Looking around, making sure no one could see me, I pulled it out.

A strange little book. Red leather, cracked with age, its cover lettered in faded gold. The New Testament. The pages were thin, the print tiny, the wording different from anything I had seen before. Inside the front cover Mother had written a note in her beautiful, flowery writing, full of loops and curlicues: For Emmeline, my beloved daughter. May she read and understand. The m’s in Emmeline and May swirled like the petals of a wildflower. I kissed her handwriting, then wondered where she was. Was she somewhere thinking of me just as I was thinking of her? Was she lonely? I swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of tears building in my eyes. I let a few minutes pass, then began to glance through the book. It seemed to be made up of different stories told by different people: Matthew, Mark, Luke, John. No last names? Some pictures. A man on some kind of wooden thing. Nailed to it. How strange. Mother taught me how to read. I’d do my best to understand.

I slipped the book back into the mat, far into the corner, and felt something else. Hard and cold. This, too, had been buried between layers of padding. I pulled it out. It was a strange object, oblong in shape, only about three inches long, and made of metal.

I pushed a small button on one side and a blade snapped out.

I dropped the knife on the mat and stepped back. Like a snake, it seemed to threaten me from the floor. A knife! Citizens were not permitted to have knives! The only Citizens allowed to handle blades were those who worked in the uniform Compound. And Father told me a long time ago that they were counted at the end of each shift and locked up. What was Mother thinking? And why had I never felt something so hard and firm in my sleeping mat before? I pulled the cover off that far corner of the mat.

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