18 December, 2024 @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2597 (Part 3) | Prompt: a silver coin
Source...
The blazing sun shone relentlessly on the immaculately-paved roads ahead. Behind protective goggles, Amos followed with precision the perpendicular orange roads as they merged, then branched out in several directions, shimmering in the heat of the noon sun. He glanced up and watched as sparklers surrounded several skyscrapers that protruded into the scorching sky. Nothing overhead.
With wide eyes, he scoured the barren landscape as far beyond the city as allowed attempting to capture any hazards in one glance. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and replaced his cap. So far, quiet in Sector 91. He touched several buttons on the hand-held monitor and returned the security detection unit to his back pocket.
A good start to the foot patrol. But his toes were already beginning to throb as blisters were the culprit.
The Security Holding Unit of ICO refused to furnish vehicles to individuals assigned to their division. These devices were essential, Amos felt, for purposes of assisting in their patrol duties. That basic need he didn't understand, especially for people of a certain age classification. But then there existed numerous aspects about ICO he didn't understand.
For instance, the organization's name: Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit.
The ICO. As far as Amos could piece together, so far there existed four branches. He was given access to the southern region, where he was assigned. But rumors had spread of three other operations. Workers on his shift rotated in and out, but weren't allowed to discuss their assigned units. Strictly forbidden was the spread of gossip. The stark, white walls knew all.
His heart grew somber. One of the complexes housed his parents who were assigned and transported there. Roy, another janitor whom Amos had met last year, confirmed citizens older than them were restricted to the ICO unit in the northern part of the country.
Amos tried and failed several times to reach them, but his messages were confiscated. Amos could no longer have contact with Roy. What Amos did learn was that his parents resided in an restricted area of the ICO complex. Deemed a security risk, no contact was allowed. No other information could be ascertained about that particular complex.
ICO ensured that the complex was regarded as a safe facility. Mysterious clinic, if you ask me, Amos sighed, his nose flaring each time his thoughts turned to the situation. It would've been nice to visit them after five years.
A dark skyline harboring ominous clouds approached. Instantly, a gust of wind intermingled with particles that resembled sand surrounded Amos, interrupting his thoughts. He flung his hat off and waved it in all directions, but to no avail. As quickly as the particles descended, they lifted.
In the aftermath, Amos stood battling the effects of fine, sticky soil and other items encased in the wind from his uniform. So preoccupied was he that he failed to notice immediately behind him no more than two feet away stood another male. In silence, the male advanced toward him. Slowly at first, then within minutes, it stood in front of him, towering over him at least three feet. Motionless, the man's large-rimmed eyes scanned Amos' frame. He did eye him clutching the silver coin and alternately fingering its necklace.
Programmed to investigate any unusual sightings within Section 91, the man moved in closer and extended his hand toward Amos' neck. His eyes glowed amber. Without warning, Amos watched as the male reached for his necklace.
For a moment, it was as if Amos' mind stalled. He stood staring at the male and its hand that resembled that of a man counterpart; but didn't. Amos couldn't explain the vision. Then immediately, from deep within, a voice rose up. He didn't know whether it was his parents or just pure survival instinct, but he shrank back shaking his head violently. A stab of fear attacked him.
Uncertain of his next move, he jerked a sharp breath, then screamed, "Thief! You're trying to rob me of my life!" Amos reached inside his pocket for the security monitor, but instead his hand grasp hold of another device. Pulling out the large whistle from his youth, he blew into the device.
The male quickly scanned his memory for the exotic gems section in The Book of Values. In a taunt tone, he questioned, "is that in your possession a gold piece?" as he steadily advanced toward Amos. The closer the male came, the more vertical he became as though one of the skyscrapers now leaned over him, ready to exact avenge his snooping.
"No, it's silver. A silver coin. A lifesaver unit. It's mine. And you can't have it!" Amos shouted in a short, raspy voice. His knees went weak. Finally, he staggered a short distance way, then fell to the ground, breathless. Amos could only watch in terrified horror as the male moved in, his amber eyes and steely electrified hands within inches of his neck.
Amos kicked as hard as he could. Kick him harder, he commanded his feet, but the intense pain from the blisters wouldn't allow retaliation.
Now, Part 3:
Amos woke to a dark hallway. Recessed florescent lights overhead blinked at regular intervals. Curious not as to where he was but what the odd-shaped bulbs represented, he counted the seconds between flashes. Short, then extended buzzing sounds followed a pattern after each interval. He dared not break the connection.
He had no idea the date or how long he'd been in that corridor.
He could only speculate while tears strolled down his cheek as he recalled heading to his shift work at ICO South, preparing to enter Area 91, then stepping across the threshold. Once inside, all else fell vague until a faint memory of Dennis attempting to steal his silver coin flashed before his eyes. The hurt returned.
Amos watched as dark shadows advanced. 'Get up now and run,' he screamed, but the words wouldn't flow to command that his body react.
Instantly, he scoured the room. It was then he noticed the white suit he wore attached to straps on his head, arms, around his waist, and legs, were that of equipment he'd accidentally discovered in a room left open at his unit.
That was when he realized the reason he couldn't move. A straight jacket.
Distant voices became clearer as two men approached. Quiet, he commanded. Be still, he ordered. His mind complied. It worked. So, he stared at the ceiling.
"This one's next," one orderly named Matchov stated, pointing to Amos. "His reassignment papers state removal within 24 hours. Make sure we've got the correct human." He stared impatiently at his co-worker, who then grabbed Amos' arm.
"Man Number, ICO-9708; Amos Goodall," the other orderly, named Benetiz replied after digitally checking Amos' wristband, then continued, "we'd better get a move on. ICO North is waiting.
Both released Amos from the bed restraints and positioned him upright, but still left intact and secured his restrictive traveling suit. All the while, Amos sat motionless, staring ahead at the gray wall as if still traumatized and unresponsive. His current outward docile condition was far from his inner turmoil. His feet still throbbed from the blisters. And his head pounded with a fierce migraine.
A slow awakening as Amos remembered the second voice state that he was being taken to ICO North.
Adding to his troubles, his pulse tripled when he realized that he couldn't feel the necklace around his neck or the silver coin on his chest. Amos almost lost his earlier composure when he heard the first voice of Matchov clear his throat, grunt loudly, and gaze into his eyes with pity.
"Looks harmless enough. Wonder what this one's crime was?" Matchov queried.
"Could be a number of infractions, including what I smell on his breath." Benetiz responded logically. "Poor guy. He was merely a Level 1 Janitor. Probably the stress. No national security threat. But hey, our job is not to question; just move 'em in and out."
"It's a shame, though. The poor bloke won't ever know why his silver coin was inactivated," Matchov confirmed.
"No one knows anything really about The Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit. It's best not to," Benetiz replied candidly in a strained voice, then shook his head as though reminding himself of the new organization that move din fifty years ago and was now entrenched in their society.
For better or worse. Clean Living. The ICO's philosophy of a joke all citizens knew had gone awry decades ago. But punishments were severe and swift for violations.
While Matchov maneuvered around toward the head of the gurney, Benetiz caught hold of the foot. They wheeled Amos out of the dark corridor, through two long hallways, around a tunnel entrance, and exited the front of a building unfamiliar to Amos.
All the while Amos remained silent, choking on his quandary.
He grappled with panicked thoughts as a sudden jab of dread exposed his predicament. Wild eyes canvassed the vehicle the orderlies lifted him into. He couldn't help but release tears as he suspected that the life he knew when he woke that last morning for work was over.
I've violated some law.
I've probably lost my janitor position.
I've lost access to a silver coin.
And, I'm in a straight jacket on my way to ICO North, he concluded.
His fate was sealed as he heard the unthinkable, even more so than the loss of his silver coin.
"Benetiz, remove those specialty goggles! He won't need them where he's going," Matchov ordered as he kept his eyes on the road while driving. He stopped at the first intersection, then turned left headed toward the connecting highway that led north to the unknown, but hushed rumors about the infamous specialty unit of ICO.
[to be continued]
18 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2590: fragment of life
28 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2630: implication
26 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2628: kick him harder
29 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2631: discuss this more
4 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2637: mysterious clinic
5 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2638: Did you authorise this?
20 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2653: survival of the richest
If you'd like to return to the beginning of my series, here are the previous parts:
SOURCES:
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b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
1 What is Stable Diffusion? StarryAI.Com. Online at: https://starryai.com/stable-diffusion
!BEER