‹ Prequel: XY Revolution
Status: Returning November 2016
XY Revolution
prologue
I’m one of the lucky ones, considering my grandmother is still alive. If you live past sixty-five, you’re one of the blessed. My gran is seventy-six. She’s one of the only people alive who remembers what it was like before; before the Downfall.
Flower-baskets used to hang at regular intervals in the main streets of town. There was store upon store full of the latest fashions for women. Food vendors, each with an accent more foreign than the next, were on most corners throughout the city. You could even go dancing at one of the few nightclubs.
This was when town still existed of course.
Days where we could go out after sunset and talk to whomever we wanted. Days where we could drive and go to university. Days where we didn’t need a man to take responsibility for us.
“Freya, do you have the answer?”
“Um, 6a + 2b?” I try, scratching the back of my neck.
“And?” I freeze.
“Um, I forgot the c on the end.”
Ms Kennedy just smiles at me and writes my answer underneath the problem. I heave a sigh of relief, and slump into the chair. As long as they’re not word-problems, I don’t have a problem. I’m counting down the years till maths is no longer compulsory. Eleven years old; it’s just a couple more grades.
The piercing shriek of the fire alarm sounds. Gran says they used to be run by bells but everything needed replacing after the Downfall. Now it’s an electronic siren, and I can feel it thudding around my head.
“Come on, girls! Let’s leave-”
The door bursts open. One of the office ladies, Meredith, I think her name is, stumbles in. She’s pale. Her breathing is ragged, and her eyes wide. She clutches the side of her belly desperately. Blood has already stained her blouse. She turns to Ms Kennedy and whispers,
“The men…all the men…”
I hear her head crack on the floor when she collapses. The blood starts to pool. Girls start to cry, and scream, and Ms Kennedy runs over to Meredith’s already cooling body.
The next thing I know, the butt of a semi-automatic is pressing into the small of my back, shepherding me towards the field with the rest of the school. It’s there, on the rise of the hill, where they shoot my principal in the head.
I think her name was Mrs Fraser.
Mum says it was the Downfall that caused this mess. She was just a girl when it happened. I’m part of the first generation born after the Earth’s purge, the mass annihilation. I was also lucky enough to be born in New Zealand, where we weren’t touched by the nuclear disasters, unlike much of North America.
Gran says that the United States, as it was formerly known, was home to some of the world’s greatest cities. Now it’s home to a toxic wasteland.
Mum says it was the oil that ran out, and during the rush to find a replacement, the economy fell to pieces. And that meant war. World War III was just by far the quickest of the world wars; Mother Nature gave them all too much else to focus on. Areas in the Northern hemisphere froze; areas closer to the equator became too hot to inhabit. Deadly earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, fires wiped out what the war hadn’t. And if you survived that, then there was always famine, disease and murder which would sneak up on you while you slept.
But humans are adaptable. We needed one government, and we found it in the United Nations. A new global currency was created and we started to rebuild our former lives. Things were far from stable.
Mum said the men blamed us. Mum said we had screwed up the world when females could be elected to power, could be the boss of men, poisoned the world with our thoughts and actions.
I know she’s lying when she tells me this. Most of the time, she cries just thinking about it. Considering they did shoot my aunt in front of her, for being a senior partner in a law firm, it’s easy to see why she’s upset.
I just think having your rights being taken away from you is reason enough.
No one was expecting the revolution. Actually, I’m lying. The females sure as hell didn’t see it coming.
Flower-baskets used to hang at regular intervals in the main streets of town. There was store upon store full of the latest fashions for women. Food vendors, each with an accent more foreign than the next, were on most corners throughout the city. You could even go dancing at one of the few nightclubs.
This was when town still existed of course.
Days where we could go out after sunset and talk to whomever we wanted. Days where we could drive and go to university. Days where we didn’t need a man to take responsibility for us.
“Freya, do you have the answer?”
“Um, 6a + 2b?” I try, scratching the back of my neck.
“And?” I freeze.
“Um, I forgot the c on the end.”
Ms Kennedy just smiles at me and writes my answer underneath the problem. I heave a sigh of relief, and slump into the chair. As long as they’re not word-problems, I don’t have a problem. I’m counting down the years till maths is no longer compulsory. Eleven years old; it’s just a couple more grades.
The piercing shriek of the fire alarm sounds. Gran says they used to be run by bells but everything needed replacing after the Downfall. Now it’s an electronic siren, and I can feel it thudding around my head.
“Come on, girls! Let’s leave-”
The door bursts open. One of the office ladies, Meredith, I think her name is, stumbles in. She’s pale. Her breathing is ragged, and her eyes wide. She clutches the side of her belly desperately. Blood has already stained her blouse. She turns to Ms Kennedy and whispers,
“The men…all the men…”
I hear her head crack on the floor when she collapses. The blood starts to pool. Girls start to cry, and scream, and Ms Kennedy runs over to Meredith’s already cooling body.
The next thing I know, the butt of a semi-automatic is pressing into the small of my back, shepherding me towards the field with the rest of the school. It’s there, on the rise of the hill, where they shoot my principal in the head.
I think her name was Mrs Fraser.
Mum says it was the Downfall that caused this mess. She was just a girl when it happened. I’m part of the first generation born after the Earth’s purge, the mass annihilation. I was also lucky enough to be born in New Zealand, where we weren’t touched by the nuclear disasters, unlike much of North America.
Gran says that the United States, as it was formerly known, was home to some of the world’s greatest cities. Now it’s home to a toxic wasteland.
Mum says it was the oil that ran out, and during the rush to find a replacement, the economy fell to pieces. And that meant war. World War III was just by far the quickest of the world wars; Mother Nature gave them all too much else to focus on. Areas in the Northern hemisphere froze; areas closer to the equator became too hot to inhabit. Deadly earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, fires wiped out what the war hadn’t. And if you survived that, then there was always famine, disease and murder which would sneak up on you while you slept.
But humans are adaptable. We needed one government, and we found it in the United Nations. A new global currency was created and we started to rebuild our former lives. Things were far from stable.
Mum said the men blamed us. Mum said we had screwed up the world when females could be elected to power, could be the boss of men, poisoned the world with our thoughts and actions.
I know she’s lying when she tells me this. Most of the time, she cries just thinking about it. Considering they did shoot my aunt in front of her, for being a senior partner in a law firm, it’s easy to see why she’s upset.
I just think having your rights being taken away from you is reason enough.
No one was expecting the revolution. Actually, I’m lying. The females sure as hell didn’t see it coming.