The Bradburies by desalvo (dark) Corruption of the world Peace sells but nobody s buying - Megadeth Peace Sells Chapter One Turn here signalled the black man riding shotgun The driver alre ady driving a good 80 miles per hour banked hard left and raced down 4th Street gunning the engine a nd pushing the car to an incredible 105 miles per hour The diesel engine whined being pushed pas t its theoretical limit The needle crept towards 120 miles per hour OK everyone the black man said icily We re two minutes away Ke ep y uzis ready Thomas keep them grenades handy we might meet up with some tards in body armou r Everyone ready Collectively the contents of the car let out a nervously held breath Ready Sir they replied in unison Arthur Sand settled down into the plush leather of the passenger side seat No-one said a word They d all been through enough Bradburies to know not to talk just before the ki ll It disturbed the Captain Sir we re almost there announced Clair the fat rookie with the we n beside his nose He was the designated rookie the fall guy the slave The guy to pin all the bad shit onto Every bury had to have one it was policy Clair s eye twitched uncontrollably I can see it in the distance Good thought Sand We ll wait a couple seconds for the homegrowns to come out The junkies gotta get their fill don t they He laughed silently to himself Once you see the first camera lens come out slow down to drive-by sp eed Everyone else roll down your windows He flipped the safety off of his assault rifle and opened u p the sunroof Let s rock Clair saw some heads pop out of a deserted pill box and slowed the ca r sufficiently getting it under the speed limit to 25 Some more heads sprouted from nothingness staring out the windows of shabby Old Town slums and some others out of wasted 10 storey duplexes Sa nd gave all the little kids the finger The first flash went off just before the house came into view - it was a victorian ripoff bungalow with cracked plaster on its walls Two skinny kids not more than 9 or 10 years old were out on the porch passing a paper bag trying to look grown up The taller one had a cigare tte smouldering nervously in his fingers They didn t know what hit them TAKE EM DOWN!!! Sand cried God this is fun he thought as he shot the kids on the porch More cameras materialized out of nowhere A second flash captured their agonized death poses Sand grinned as the paper bag hit the sidewalk shattering the bottle inside He made a mental note to make sure the newsies got that on tape The house was lost amid a torrent of camera flashes and gunfire Bull ets rained upon the cheap house covering it in powdery bullet holes Glass shattered and fell upon the d ead bodies on the front porch producing several new uncontrollable hemorrhages Sand grinned as his as sault rifle belched a fantastic display of yellow fire from its muzzle His constables Thomas and Arland both armed with tank quality cannons opened fire as the cruiser met the house side by side Two white men both armed with ancient 22 calibre revolvers appeared behind successive broken wind ows futilely trying to protect the people inside They were mowed down instantly sandwiched betwee n slug after bloody slug Eat this you bastards! A skinny old man dressed only in overalls a nd his beard appeared in the driveway with a large automatic rifle- where in the hell did he get that gun - Sand for a second was taken aback But only for a second The old man aimed at the cruiser managing to hit the car twice before the recoil broke his skinny arms like toothpicks Sand trained his AK-47 at the old man and mowe d him down like the grass he was lying on Two more men broke the bullet ridden front door down and fired on the cruiser They were both similarly gunned down in a shower of bullets A woman ran out of the side door yelling and screaming to some unknown God a baby in her arms The pink curlers in her hair fell on the sidewalk amid pools of blood She shuffled madly away from the gunfire her fee t not receiving the messages from her brain Sand his rifle empty trained his service revolver on her and blew her traitor brains out The baby fell to on the pavement and was crushed under the weight of its fallen mother Y prayin to the wrong side bitch Hurry up NOW! Sand screamed As he madly tried to refill his rifl e magazine a car burst out of the garage breaking the door into chunks of rotten wooden pieces It hi t the cruiser broadside near the rear left fender sending it fishtailing towards the opposite side of t he house The cruiser choked once and died Sand was knocked back and dropped a handful bullets on t he car floor DAMMIT! BURN THAT SONOFABITCH!! Sand roared pointing to the car Its radiator had burst in the crash and the driver was trying desperately to start it again His partner sitting in the back opened up the side door and came out with a submachine gun and a mile of gold coloured rounds He sprayed a swath of bullets into the cruiser two of them hitting Cla ir one in the thigh and one in the head killing him instantly CLAIR ! ! ! DRIVE THE GODAMMED CAR NOW! MOVE IT! Sand bellowed He kicked him in the shoulder but Clair just fell deeper into his seat Blood tric kled into his crotch staining the plush grey leather seat below Sand dropped his gun and franticall y kicked the driver side door open Clair dropped out and slumped onto the road half in half out of th e car His head bobbed uncontrollably like a buoy in a riptide Sand jammed his foot on the gas pedal but the cruiser didn t move GET THE REST OF THEM DAMMIT!!!!!! Sand howled The windshield fell in around him showering him with safety glass Arland his cannon empty cocked his shot gun and blew the submachine gun toting dissident away His muscles were blinded and he fell to the bloody concrete still pulling on the trigger of his gun kil ling two newsies in the process Sand jammed one leather clad boot on Clair s butt and gave it a shove Clair tumbled out of the car cracking his head on the pavement The bullet hole above his temple op ened further exposing the still pulsing brain underneath In a frenzy Sand clamped down on the gas and the cruiser lurched forward sickeningly He turned the cruiser in the right di rection letting the transmission drop into 4th gear The car sped away gaining speed as it finally passed the sea of newsies Thomas unhooked a grenade and pulled the pin He lobbed it towards th e car as Sand gunned the cruiser home Dammit you re all getting demerits Sand gasped that was the slop piest drive-by I ve ever seen in my entire 37 year on Bradburies! The cruiser got totalled dammit! We lost Clair sir Arland returned seeing the small black dot in the distance that was Clair What are we going to tell his wife Forget Clair the Captain replied the icy cool returning to his voi ce He eased off of the accelerator slightly The rookie wanted to stay on the crack squad dint he Yessir Arland and Thomas replied in unison Fine We re going to be hit pretty hard by the newsies so send b ury 43 to clean up the mess Yessir Again in unison Sand smiled and lit a cigarette the dry taste of the Dust attesting to its brand name He dragged deeply savouring its chalky taste Sand smiled Grey smoked dripped out of his nose On second thought said Sand grinning ever wider send a standar d arrangement to Clair s wife Black I want it to be black What a nice fucking day for a kill he thought Sand turned on the highway Forgotten miles away two small childre n were poking at the remains that were Clair His body would be stew by midnight * * * It was only three thirty by the time the newsies had finished with the carnage and six minutes later the writers had already started up the presses By four o clock fifty t housand poster boards were filtering their way through the city posted on every available sign post a nd door in Annal each telling their own story of the Bradbury The reactions of the people were predictable Such efficiency! Who s going to pay for that cruiser Mommy mommy that man had a beard! Look at those silly drivemen you d think they d never done a bury i n their lives! That woman had a baby with her! Did she really think she could get away with it Slum dwellers typical There were of course the rebellious ones who rejected any form of c ommercialization and tore down the signs at first sight Twenty two were torn down by three small school children led astray from their usual bus- stop Witnesses said that the kindergarten aged children had shown no recogniti on of the signs and for that they were somewhat spared They were reprimanded with stonings and each given a healthy flogging Another thirty or so were ripped up by a gang of teenage hooligans d runk and too happy for their own good They had obviously been evading the law for some time with the literacy patches on their leather jackets beckoning an age decades past The police had caught a nd beat them soundly crippling one on the spot mostly to please the newsies and hung the rest on l ightpoles with their own neckties Their court appearance was conducted posthumously They were fou nd guilty on all counts and were sentenced to hang Their bodies remained on the lightpoles until the desperate slum dwel lers picked them clean to the bones Two more were destroyed by a lunatic who had escaped from the local p rison he had attempted to eat one while defecating on the other The witnesses had stayed b ack this time until an off-duty police officer enjoying a cup of coffee and a donut shot him in th e head The officer was given a commendation and a copy of his own sign complete with the authentic blo od stains of the deceased PATROLMAN STOPS LUNATIC the sign read with a smaller headline unde rneath in smaller letters NEVER GOT UP FROM SEAT The officer wore his ear to ear grin until he was killed on a Bradbur y three days later The other rebels were crushed as usual and most of the populace read understood and obeyed Chapter Two living just for dying dying just for you - Black Sabbath Sabbath Bloody Sabbath Sand backed the totalled cruiser into the police docking bay The wi ndshield was gone two tires were blown the front grille was non-existent And there were too many bu llet holes to count Now remember you two Sand said to this two constables the mark o f a good bury isn t in the damage to the car the number of bullets you used or how many people you killed If the newsies didn t get any of it on tape it s all worthless Ya got me Thomas and Arland both nodded gravely Good Now go sign yourselves up for three weeks of heavy KP duty You re going to work til we get this cruiser paid for Thomas and Arland retreated from the car Sand followed them into th e main area of the police station watched them scurry into their work cubicles and sat down in hi s office His intercom rang Captain Sand there s a new rookie here to see you the replacement for Clair Should I send him in Sand thought for a second checked his Bradbury schedule He had two more this afternoon and no other rookie knew how to drive Let s hope this one is a good shot at least Sand pressed his own intercom Send him in and make sure he brings his gun with him Yessir There was a sharp rapping on the door a few seconds later Come in The door opened and the first thing Sand noticed about the rookie wa s his eyes His infinitely liquid eyes His eyes were always moving always seeing resonating with a constant ferocity you only found in water Sand for the second time today was taken aback Sit down sit down Now what was your name again The rookie obliged and sat down He cleared his throat Orwell sir Rookie Warrant Orwell Haven t I heard that name before Sand thought Do you know why you re here Warrant Sand rose from his chair and brutally mashed out his cigarette Have you any idea why you re here Any clue The new warrant seemed unflustered To work on Bradburies sir His eye twitched as if Orwell was thin king of something particularly difficult To be clear precise and to kill without remorse nor foul intent Straight from the textbook Sand thought So what else do you know b esides the propaganda bullshit in the good book eh I didn t ask you what you would do here Warrant Sand eyed the ro okie What he saw was a clear reflection of himself in Orwell s eyes - a shimmering icy blue refl ection that was devoid of any emotion And he didn t particularly like it I asked you why you were here Do you know who Corpus Malthus was Orwell adjusted a button on his shirt No sir Sand smiled Well then howabout if I tell you He sat down and grabbed his pac k of cigarettes It was empty Orwell saw his opportunity Cigarette sir asked Orwell offering Sand one out of his own pac k Sand did not flinch I ll have one warrant He pulled the chalky tube from its wrapper and lit the cigarette with his desk lighter Now where were we Ah yes I was going to tell you wh o Corpus Malthus was Corpus Malthus was the man responsible for the Bradburies warrant Sand dragged deeply on his cigarette He was the man who came up with the idea of Bradburie s Before him do you know what they did with people before they died Orwell knew he wasn t supposed to answer He didn t Sand continued They had people under lock and key People were told what to eat w hat to wear how to do this how to do that Oh no they weren t told directly no that would be b rainwashing but they were told nonetheless through their own misguided ways They were told that if they didn t look like this or that or someone in a magazine they would be outcasts They were told that if they ate this or smoked that or used this car or this spray can they would be outcasts Th e powerful ones in that bygone society even had their own correction medium do you know what I m talkin g about warrant Political correction sir said Orwell meekly What a smart boy Sand thought I ll have to let him have some fun b efore I let him get killed That s right warrant Political correction They destroyed everyt hing Everything was censored Everything was either black or white there was no grey At one poin t they even said abortion was wrong they said it was just plain murder that you were killing a living human being Can you believe that warrant No sir I can t believe that Sand crushed his cigarette Well boy believe it That s what the Bradburies are for Our soci ety has no outcasts We have nothing called censorship We live peacefully We have no correction medi um In our society you re allowed to read your magazine see the skinny model and not feel like a pile of shit Shit compared to the stereotypical misguided wench in the magazine right But not being an outcast has its limits warrant I bet you re wondering when you re going to die correct Orwell could not refuse to answer anything but in the affirmative I know what you re thinking warrant and I know you re scared But be confident in the fact that your death is contributing to the livelihood the peaceful sanity the worldly good of billions of people And be confident in the fact that you re killing the people who are trying to rob your of your opportunity Everyone has to die warrant What good is it to be born Y ou just pop into the world at great pain and expense to one s parents to be fed clothed and perha ps put more people into the world That s why we look upon death as the culmination of life warrant To die is the happiest thing in this sickening world Why else do you think everyone wears black and s ends flowers when a baby is born If it were a happy occasion wouldn t they send gifts and choco lates But they don t! When do they have their parties and celebrate and have fun At the funeral! That s where the secret is warrant Those people who hide those i nsolent selfish pigs who don t care about the rest of the world they are the ones who think death is n t the greatest adventure They think that being killed isn t the celebration it s supposed to be They avoid the ovens like the plague at first thinking i ll go tomorrow for sure while the hoar d food and tell their children to steal textbooks and burn all the condoms the school gives them They re the ones who dig underground shelters in the basements to avoid the Death Squad they re the ones who think that they should live just because that s their God given right So what do we do with th ose people warrant We hunt them down and kill them We blow them away We cut them up and fry the m we do whatever we please with them Because we are on Bradburies We aren t the ones who do harm warrant We are reaffirming their place in the world Because if they re dead other people will be dying too If they live they suck and suck and suck they bleed us dry eati ng our food breathing our air So we kill them Orwell s throat was dry He offered the Captain another cigarette So the purpose of Bradburies is to hunt and kill those who avoid the ovens and the Death Squads correct asked Orwell And to kill those who want to be killed before their time For a sm all fee of course Sand took the cigarette and lit it That s very good warrant So you have been lis tening I bet you re just pardon the pun dying to know when your turn in the oven is aren t you Yessir Well you re a young lad If you don t mind me asking how much do you have in your premature death fund Speak up I won t tell Sand smiled thinly Orwell cleared his throat A little over ten thousand sir Still five million to go I knew it So you really want this bury eh I bet you don t have any diseases or anything like that It ll take a while then Sand inhaled deeply The paid ones die first you know Then the old ones And you haven t got the credits Sand chucked They re killin g younger and younger these days you know We do abortions of course but why would you want to hav e an abortion and not see your child whine and cry before being killed So most of the time today we just kill them as soon as they re born If it were cheaper I know more people would do it But ten million credits is a little steep isn t it warrant cackled Sand hoarsely Orwell smiled a thin smile His smile widened into a grin as the Cap tain s cackle exploded into peals of laughter Get out of my sight warrant said Sand in between fits get your ass into the sign writing squad on the double You ll stay there before I ll let you drive Sand punche d his intercom Sally tell Arland to find that other rookie Green I think his name was Tell him he s driving this afternoon Faint sounds of a pen scratching on paper could be heard in the speak er Excuse me sir but Green doesn t know how to drive Should I tell A rland he s driving on the 3 o clock Sand was almost growling You tell Arland to teach that sonofabitch Green to drive for all I c are Just make sure Green is behind the wheel for the 3 o clock or I m putting you into the cryosle ep chamber for a thousand years Got it Yessir Sand snapped off the intercom and stared at Orwell After a lengthy pause he moved his hand up to his forehead Salute Orwell did the same Salute We ll write the liquid out of him Sand thought to himself He ll be a butt licking shit eating lackey before long Chapter Three The sign writing squad was the basic proving ground for new rookies a nd the working class not new warrants The smell of burning oil in and waste paper hung rank in the air Ream after ream of paper lay stacked in one corner of the decrepit warehouse along with cr ates of writing pens in the other A low hum rose from the internal generator that powered the Newsi eboxes Orwell had no idea why he was here Orwell status Classified Warrant reporting for duty sir The foreman eyed him cautiously The skinny man could only clamp dow n harder on his cigar and grit his teeth He didn t like Orwell He could smell the burning w anton need for life in this warrant He could sense the power in his eyes Sand sentcha dint he said the foreman cautiously What was your name again Orwell status Classified Warrant Orwell A faint glimmer of recognition passed over the old man s face Well get your ass into fifth chair and grab that big pen over ther e You ll be writing for the 3 o clock today Orwell nodded and sat down He looked at his watch It was two fift y nine He could feel the sweat building on his forehead channelling grooves amid the layers of mud a nd dust that caked around his neck and head Alright people bellowed the foreman one minute to go till 3 o cl ock We have to have the signs out read and ready to be replaced by four So be happy and work you r asses off And if you start to feel tired just think of the bonus you might get to put towards yo ur paid killing Ready Orwell picked up his pen GO! Pens furiously scratched onto paper In front of him Orwell could see the newsies version of the Bradbury on the Newsiebox - it was a simple drive-by fire bombing nothing out of the ordinary The newsies had wanted to add a nuclear explosion to the blast but it was deemed too powerful to kill only 3 people Orwell wrote his caption pasted on a picture of an exploding house a skull and dripped on some fake blood He rolled it up and sent it to the packing machine Why am I doing this Why were these people killed He could see their faces their burned scarred battered and broken faces The newsies were responsible for transmitting the news to the poster writers - and a damn fi ne job they did of it too Orwell could see every line every cut every powder burn and bullet hole - Did they die because of me Because I still need six million credits towards my premature death fund Fifth chair! Stop fucking around and write for chrissakes! Orwell scratched his pen on the paper His second sign was about the same Bradbury but he was to add the ki lling of three newsies to the sign to incite public riots Orwell made his sign and sent it t o the packer Why were they willing to give up the single most important even in on e s life the funeral to be killed like a slum dweller on a Bradbury WHY Orwell could only grip his pen tigher and scribble helplessly The work continued One hour later the sign writing squad had completed ten thousand sig ns Eight hundred and two of them were Orwell s Orwell rubbed his hand uselessly The four o clock whistle blew Great job today said the foreman and remember to come in early t omorrow There s a gang war scheduled for tomorrow Won t want to miss that War Bradbury killing death Orwell thought There must be another way There must be another way Chapter Four Sand was sitting in his office when the gang war started A petty ga ngwar wasn t important enough to send a Bradbury Captain so he had sent Arland to moderate it It wasn t pretty Even with his 10 man crew three tanks and nuclear warhead the war still managed to go on for a good fifteen minutes Arland had exploded the bomb prematurely killin g three of his crew in the blast His moderation left alot to be desired but in the end Arland ha d managed to come out unscathed And he was standing in front of Sand Now tell me this again Constable said Sand cooly you re telling me that we lost a five million credit nuclear warhead three constables worth six million each and the designated rookie Green Am I right Yessir YESSIR Sand pounded his desk with his fist His shot glass fell off the desk and shattered IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY I LL KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU BEFORE I LET YOU SAY YESSIR AGAIN YOU FUCKING TRAITOR! Sand pulled out his revolver Arland could only cower in fear as his head was filled with 45 calib er bullets Come on tell me what I want to hear Constable Sand heaved I ll throw you to the slum dwellers myself Sand kicked Arland s lifeless body and punched his intercom We ve got a little mess in here Sally said Sand not realizing an y form of emotion Get bury 43 in here on the double I want it cleaned in ten minutes I will sir Sand holstered his gun The pig s probably got seven million outstan ding on him Sand thought Now who the hell is going to pay for that After a moment of thought Sand started to smile One more thing Sally I want you to put Arland s wife in the cryosl eep for a thousand years he said No make that two thousand years I ll be damned if she think s her fucking husband is going to get away with seven million credits Yessir One more thing did he get to sending that standard arrangement to C lair s funeral No sir the funeral is today Should I send it through the packers Sand thought for a second Who else could he send Orwell Send the new warrant Send Orwell I want him to be there to see w hat happens to dead people I want to make sure he knows Get him out of that sweatshop and make sure he isn t late There was a pause Yessir We ll make sure he knows what the Bradburies are * * * Orwell I ve got a little job for you Orwell could only fidget with the buttons on his shirt Thank you sir Sand reached into his desk drawer Here take this with you warrant He handed Orwell a large weste rn style pistol You might need this along the way We have four buries this afternoon so you migh t have to shoot a couple of people to save time Got it Orwell nodded Good Sally will give you the assorted details Now get out of my sight Orwell cocked his hand to his forehead Salute Sand eyed him carefully I said get out of my sight Orwell left the room Chapter Five save me from this season s dead air take me blind naked scared - Black Crowes Gone The rain dripped off of umbrellas and settled in the soft pockets of the Earth Steady and relentless the water poured down from the heavens It had been raining for alm ost 3 days now without comment The freshly dug grave was like a gaping mouth inhaling the co lourless liquid to form its own swimming pool underneath The black glass coffin sat above the gra ve on steady rockers waiting for the signal to be lowered into the depths below Orwell was scared He had been scared ever since the Captain s secretary had summoned hi m to his office he had been scared ever since the Captain had given him that monster of a pistol h e had been scared ever since the Captain had refused his salute Orwell could do little but shiver slo wly His fright extended past the realm of concious apathy and into the dark legions of fear - he had be en scared ever since the Captain s secretary had handed him a black mass of charred candies he had b een scared ever since the Captain s secretary gave him his own cruiser to drive to the funeral He was scared Uncompromising silence permeated into the skin of everything around t he grave A single hollow cough Ahem Heads turned We re ready to start the ceremony if you ll all take your seats s aid the priest dully His eyes reflected the mood of the funeral perfectly - darting happy pervasive O r maybe it was his clothes there was something about him that wasn t quite right in any respect a ny way you looked at it We are here today to look upon the life of one Clair Clair the roo kie who worked on Bradburies He was happily killed in the line of duty on the Bradbury featured on sign 10891479817 If you d all like to pay your last respects and your token sums of money to be put towards Clair s premature death fund Thank you The party will commence in three minu tes The priest drifted into the candy coloured masses The first thing Orwell noticed was that all the people were wearing g arish colours The second thing he noticed was the transportable stereo being moved towards the gra vesite Hey buddy are you going to drop them candies or do you want me to eat them for him It was Clair s wife Orwell recognized her from the signs Orwell dropped the candy onto the coffin Ashes tumbled over the sid e and blackened the dirty water below Why is Clair being buried and not burned asked Orwell Clair s wife slapped him clean across the face HE HAD A JOB DAMMIT! HE WAS A WORKING MAN! HE PAID HIS DEATH FUND! HE WAS A POLICE OFFICER NOT A FUCKING SLUM DWELLER!!!!! Instinctively Orwell drew out his gun People stared from around the tables of cakes candies and creams He pulled back the hammer GO AHEAD KILL ME! KILL ME YOU DIRTY PILE OF SHIT! I LL BE HAPPY! KILL ME FOR ALL I CARE! screamed Clair s wife No Orwell thought I m sorry said Orwell Her face brightened Orwell pulled the trigger click The gun was empty I m sorry too said Clair s wife grinning Now get the hell out of here we want to start the party Orwell stood aside as the grotesque Mrs Clair roughly brushed him as ide She stalked towards the minibar grabbed two shots of MoneyScotch and downed them like wate r Orwell dropped his pistol in shock and disgust He had to find a washroom before he th rew up all over the coffin * * * Orwell never made it The party started two minutes later and ended nine hours after that During that time Clair s coffin was stolen by desperate slum dwellers and cooked as stew Orwell saw the coffin being taken away and helplessly he did nothin g He went home empty that day Chapter Six ORWELL! WARRANT CLASS INDIVIDUAL ORWELL! OPEN YOUR EYES! YOU HAVE A TELEMESSAGE ON LINE ONE NOW! belched the announcer It was standar d to build one into every home since the buries had started The announcer was t he machine that notified you when your coffee was ready when you had messages when your heart stopped beating Orwell picked up the telephone Warrant Orwell It was Sand Get yourself to my office now Bot h of my new rookies were killed and so was Arland I m thinking of promoting you to Rank Constable - if it weren t for that silly rookie on every bury policy Two minutes Orwell Two minutes click Orwell hung up the phone nervously He couldn t breathe It was as if a vise clamped around his mouth and throat was slowly being closed shut by some unknown unsee n all powerful source From cattle prodded rookie to Rank Constable in a week Orwell thoug ht It s too good to be true It s got to be Orwell raced out of his house to find out not waiting for his other message to come in It printed itself on his fax machine STAY HOME Chapter Seven Sand paced around his office He had a problem on his hands A prob lem named Orwell I heard about your little incident with Clair s wife warrant Don t think I don t know because I do What the hell were you thinking Orwell could only manage a faint whisper I wasn t really thinking sir at first it wasn t as if I was going to kill her I only asked one question about why Clair wasn t burned - Sand looked exasperated You didn t think I d give you a loaded gun did you What do think I am stupid Of course we re not going to burn a damned police officer! He worke d on buries for a week before he got killed! Sand pulled out his copy of The Bradbury Handbook Did you know Clair still had six million credits on his head Did you No I didn t think so Do you see this book Do you know what it means I have an idea sir Well why don t you tell me then Orwell straightened his posture We kill only the traitors or the paid NO! Sand bellowed This book is the Bradbury Squad This book gi ves us the power to rip apart the traitors and eat them whole if we see fit This book is the v ery embodiment of our society as a whole Without it we are nothing The traitors would be able to live without dying they would be able to deceive the Death Squads they would be able to take and take and take all they wanted There would be no order There would be chaos Don t you see what we re doing Orwell Some wise person said there were only two things sure in life - death and taxes What we re doing is bringing death to th e next level We ve eliminated taxes We ve been able to eliminate hunger poverty all those thing s except in the cases of the slum dwellers But they don t really count do they Orwell shook his head But why do we kill asked Orwell We already have a grip on the past warrant Sand sat down at his desk But to have a grip on the future we must be able to control the present Now tell me what would be the use in keeping people alive beyong their usefulness So do you know what we do We ma ke death the one turning point in one s life We make death the greatest part in the time a pers on spends on this planet - with a small catch of course We can t have people tripping all over themselve s to kill each other can we So we put a price on each head Ten million credits Seven million cr edits If you want to die before your time is up you ll have to pay So we make them work and work and work and through their work they are able to achieve their lifetime dream - To be able to die Orwell was barely able to speak I understand now sir Thank you Sand was cautious No need You re going to work and pay yourself Report to training room D You ve got two weeks ahead of you Orwell quite literally ran from the room * * * The training was murder Orwell knew it would be bad - but he didn t think it would be this bad Hundred kilometer runs in subzero temperatures Endless climbing breakin g cutting jumping pulling The initial introductory exercise was a torturous device where one had to pull oneself out of a Chinese Water Torture by sheer force alone The only thing that kept Orwel l from going insane was the payment he would be forced to hand over if he was killed ten million cr edits And all through the two weeks the insatiable uncontrollable signs everywhere pounding into the skull of anyone not on their guard BURN THE DEAD KILLING IS PLEASURE DEATH IS THE GREATEST ADVENTURE By the end of the two week session Orwell could barely lift his arms And Sand was watching all the time He knew Orwell was exhausted H e knew Orwell was a broken and battered man And that was just the way he liked it * * * Get that warrant on today s bury Sally And make sure he knows ho w to drive Get Thomas to teach him Yessir Sand grinned into his intercom Chapter Eight The day had finally come Orwell sat behind the wheel of the police cruiser Sand was riding s hotgun Alright now I want to get the cruiser down to drive by speed befor e the newsies come out said Sand He was grinning fiercely I want to make sure they get the n ew cruiser on the posters Yessir The two constables Thomas and Wesley answered in unison Orwell said nothing Sand lit a cigarette Today is a momentous day everyone beamed Sand with false pride Today is Orwell s first Bradbury He s been with us almost three weeks now and he s just brimmin g with wicked energy I want you guys to treat him right So pin all the shit on him OK Sand cackled with laughter Nobody else said a word Start the damned car warrant You ve got two minutes to make it to fifth and main Better gun it Orwell started the car stepped on the clutch and shifted into first gear The car slid smoothly forward its diesel engine humming smoothly He let the car warm for a few seconds then let his foot off the brake and drifted into the speed lane Orwell jammed his foot on the accelerator As if on command the cruiser seemed to take on a life of its own I t gained speed at an incredible rate zooming past building after building tree after tree Orwell checked the speedometer 95 mph He raced down Carlton steadily gaining speed as Thomas and Wesley bo th loaded their cannons Sand quietly primed his assault rifle Turn here Sand said Orwell turned on Carlton heading up on fifth Taking the turn at 10 0 miles per hour the cruiser screeched unmercifully as its right side tires left the ground Orwell could feel his teeth rattle as the cruiser met the ground once again Get ready We re coming up to Main Orwell could see the newsies popping out of pillboxes in the distance Flashes blinded him as the car raced past an amateur photographic bank Burned into his retinas Or well could see their white smiles They ll all be dead soon he thought Automatically Orwell slowed the car down to drive by speed The new sies had come out in full force by now armed to the teeth with their cameras Orwell could see t he target in the distance - a small gray brick bungalow Sand cocked his rifle FIRE!!!!! he cried The first bullets rained upon a little girl skipping stones on the fr ont lawn Bullet after bullet dug into her soft flesh ripping open skin and bone along the way By th e timeSand had finished laughing her body was a bloody mass of pulp on the lawn fertilizing t he grass underneath KILL THE MOTHER!!! Sand cried Orwell downshifted and turned the car broadside its headlights paint ing wide white circles onto the gray house A woman appeared in the bullet ridden front door toting a n ancient assault cannon She managed three shots all missing before Thomas blew the entire fro nt of the house into little more than plaster bits The woman was a left in pieces along with her da ughter Silence Orwell revved the engine Where the hell are they he asked Sand didn t hear him He was deep in thought There were supposed to be ten more in that house and all we can find are the mother and her silly little daughter Where could they have gone Sand thought They couldn t have escaped The newsies would have caught them On tape even The cameras were still rolling Twenty newsies were focused on Sand s face alone He could feel the tension Sand could feel the lenses boring deep holes into his e yes into his chest into his face Worse he could feel the lenses slowly pouring salt into those holes WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY ! !!!! Orwell didn t like the situation either He pulled out his own pisto l and pulled the hammer There doesn t seem to be anybody here sir said Orwell evenly I CAN SEE THAT WARRANT! Sand cried THERE S SUPPOSED TO BE TEN MORE! WHERE ARE THEY!!!! The thick smell of blood seeped into Orwell s nostrils He could smell the sweat the fire the gas The perfume left from t he bloody pulp on the lawn He could smell everything Everything but the bomb that exploded It took the entire roof of the house with it showering the cruiser w ith shards of glassy debris Sand s eyes widened NO! They killed themselves said Orwell They killed themselves rath er than die at the hands of a bury NO! Sand screamed His face was a contorted mess of twisted muscl e and sweat Orwell sitting in the driver s side seat could hear his teeth grinding into fi ne powder NO! IT S IMPOSSIBLE! IT CAN T BE!!!! Orwell got out of the car Sand followed him I m afraid so sir Orwell said there s nobody else here Nobody else left to kill Nobody else left to kill howled Sand grabbing Orwell by the colla r Nobody else left to kill Well then I guess I ll have to kill HIM THEN! Sand pulled out his revolver and shot Thomas in the head The car wi ndow was his only protection and that shattered inwards cutting thomas in the process The fres hly made wound gushed blood onto Wesley who could only stay rigid as a pole Orwell stared in blank horror Or maybe I should kill HIM ! Sand shot Wesley between the eyes An eye blew up in the succeeding chain reaction dripping white fluid onto Thomas The two constables bled their last drops upon each other STOP IT! Orwell screamed Sand turned and faced his designated roo kie And you re going to stop me Orwell took a step back Slowly menacingly he raised his pistol to wards Sand s exposed head Go ahead warrant You and I both know that gun is empty Sand sai d icily so go ahead and pull the trigger Sand crossed his arms defiantly Unbelievably Sand lit a cigarette And six million credits goes up in smoke with you right thought Orw ell Well warrant What s it going to be Sand grinned his demonic grin Orwell pulled the trigger * * * The transition to the new chief of Bradburies was done without fanfar e nor comment With the new chief came new jobs new people new opportunities And new doors The name plate that read Arthur Sand was quickly replaced a day after the slum dwellers had finished eating his flesh and cooking his bones for broth They never found anything but his skull which was placed in the cryosleep chamber beside someone named Clair The nameplate was changed to a single word Orwell