Poker Night - December 4, 2010

A/N- To settle confusion, this takes place in a future-esque america where governmets have confined the population into controlled colonies...     

        In words and looks they seem to tell each other things that make them not exist. Roslyn leans across the table and whispers
    “Let’s just stop, can we stop it?” They all pretend not to hear her, she repeats. “Let’s just stop…please? Please?”
    “Keep your f***ing voice down…just keep it down, alright?” Bruno lays his hand of cards down and breathes in ragged, his fingers are twitching for the last cigarette in the pack.
    Outside, the siren is getting louder. It is not the sound of police cars or ambulances, nothing like that familiarity. This siren is a welcoming call. The Union’s theme song.
    The table is a thick wood, the curtains thin cotton. Even from inside, the blaring twenty-four hour city limit lights are illuminating everyone. They’ve been brightening their boundaries for months and soon the lights will go out. Soon there will be nothing to light.
    Mora’s breath is accelerating to sobs with each blink. “I hate this…” she says. Her eyes are red, shining orbs.
    “They can’t riot this time…” Taz says. “They won’t let them.”
    Roslyn pressed the tips of her fingers to her mouth. “Kill them? They-re…they’re killing them …”
    “You heard what the broadcast said.” Bruno interjects. Above the sirens rose the sound of a strange mixture; chanting, shouting , scraping. “F**king idiots…”
    The riots are starting the same way they have for the past two months. First with the sounds of anger.
    It was a slow rallying of each other’s resistance… it began at the heart of the colony. The protests was far and distorted, a minority it the small day-to-day lives they led. The other side warned them, there were radio broadcastings, warnings. They thought it would end there.    
    It spread to the outskirts, to where they were at the moment, to their hovel. Outside the fires burned, the makeshift weapons were dragged across the cement. The retaliation was all anyone had left, it was the last, salvaged bit of freedom. They could scream, cause ruckus, but it wouldn’t break through those electric fences. This fight was the feeblest…it was wild.
   
“The Union releases this warning to the population: Any revolting personals against the newly instated regulations prohibiting the formation of mutinous assemblies will be eliminated by Union Issued Military Forces under the Regulation Act, Code 329. All subjects are urged to wait for Union Issued Transporters to serve instructional package in preparation for the upcoming eviction.
   
        Outside, someone howls like an animal. There isn’t much time left now. 
    “Where will they take us now, huh? Where the hell else in this country are we supposed to go?” Taz says while throwing down his hand of cards.
    “Why would they tell us? You think they care whether we…are aware?” Bruno’s voice is low.
    Roslyn stares out the window and into the distant, bright boundary lights.  “All they said was…the new colony would be ‘more controlled’.”
    Taz’s laugh is dripping in bitterness. “And they’d still protest…they’d still resist.”
    Mora, who has been silently weeping, finally whispers almost inaudibly. “Of course…they should.”
    “They’re all going to die…” Roslyn says again, as if she hasn’t understood what they’ve been talking about yet. Maybe she hasn’t.
    “Soon, Bruno…half the colony will be gone. Where do you think that leaves us?”
    Bruno has so far kept them all safe, away from the riots and The Union invasions. “Roslyn’s right.” he says. “Let’s stop.”
    A moment of silence issues between them and they all look down in unison at their cards. Mora is winning with a Full House. Mora turns to Taz and kisses him full on the mouth, they are both crying now. Above all the sounds that are raging and twisting in the night, the first gunshot can be heard unmistakeably. Mora’s muscles tense under Taz and she reaches out to touch Bruno’s hand.
    Roslyn stands from the table and waits expectantly for them to follow. It’s a strange concept to accept one’s death. Really, it’s not as profound as it would seem, not for them. They’ve contracted and lived with their death the moment the first laws were made. The moment the colony doors closed them in.
    “I’ve…I always looked forward to these poker nights.” Roslyn slips the Jack of hearts into her back pocket and goes to the door and steps into the crossfire.

The End
   
-Kortnee Tilson