Death Date by B.Y. Simpson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: B.Y. Simpson
- Language: English
- Genre: Science Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
You’ve got to kill them, Nova.” My Grandpa’s stern voice rings in
my ears. “When the time comes, its either you or them. Put a
bullet right between their eyes.”
I sigh and make myself focus. Every morning, Grandpa brings me here,
to a field tucked away, where trees make a boundary around the city walls.
They help hide the fact that we are surrounded by concrete and exposed
barbed wire. Only the selected can ever cross to the land on the other side.
And I am not a person lucky enough to have that privilege.
The air is dense with morning fog, making it hard to see my target. To
think about spilling blood is not uncommon. Grandpa has drilled it into me
from the time I was five. Still, when the moment does arrive, to decide my
life or theirs, it doesn’t make the act any easier.
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I bite my lip and brace myself. My finger pulls back the trigger, and as
the .22 bullet goes sailing through the air, I hold my breath. The sound of
glass breaking on the other side of the field floods me with relief. He won’t
make me late for school today.
“Nice work. Now, another,” Grandpa Barley orders.
He stands beside me with a cane in his hands and a straw hat on his head.
The hat keeps the sun from burning his bald head, something grandpa
despises the most. Instead of using the cane for help with walking, Grandpa
decided years ago that it was a good place for storing additional weapons.
Hollow on the inside, today it houses two knives that I know of. A
government employee can never be too careful.
“I’m going to be late. Another tardy and Mother will be called,” I warn.
Grandpa’s expression changes from one of pride to annoyance. He clicks
his tongue. “Your father still on the road?”
Dad always stays on the road. I sigh, “Yes.”
“Alright then. We don’t want her up my ass nor yours. Pack up,” he
grumbles.
I oblige, although I’d much rather stay. If it wasn’t for the fear of Mother
and the correction mirror, I would. One must be perfect or face
consequences. Another thing I’ve been shown since early childhood. I will
never be perfect even if I try hard to be.
Grandpa walks over to his old pickup truck and cranks it up. “You’ll be
on time for school. No tardy today.”
I smile and slide in, packing my gun away behind the seat. It’s a precious
gift and one that would steal away years of my life if ever seen by the
wrong people.
We take off toward the center of town just as the sun starts breaking up
the morning fog. I stare out the window, wondering how long it’s taken the
city to look this way. Many buildings have fallen beyond repair. Years of
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