T.A.C.O

The year was 2059. We were only 3 years into the War. The War against the New World Government (NWG). Ever since the discovery of the T.A.C.O, the world was never the same. The days were darker, the wars were fiercer, and poverty flourished everywhere you looked. Destruction. Chaos. Death. That's the only way I can describe it. Education had been abolished in nearly every place in the world. But not here. Not at Whangaparaoa College. It was one of three of the last schools in the world, and I happened to be lucky enough to go there. Of the 16,000 students that were at the school last year, only 11 students other than myself remained. The rest had all perished in the first mass T.A.C.O explosion. The weapon was rightly named the Teacher And Child Obliterator, because that is exactly what it did. Little did I know that today, the second bomb would be unleashed.

Chapter 1

Faster. I had to run faster! I can't believe I slept in again! The hover-jeeps were closing in behind me, and I had a gut feeling that they were going to catch me at any second. I was only about 50 metres from the secret entrance to the school, but keeping the whereabouts of the entrance secret was more important than my life. I had to lose them first, all the while trying to avoid the hand-held TA.C.O rays. I just had to keep on running in circles. All I had to do was let them lose sight of me, and then make a dive into the large oak trees. That's what I did last time. Lets just hope it will work again. I sprinted around the corner, and then I made my move. I dove to the left, grazing my knee on the sharp bristles of the trees and bushes. I crouched down in between two large tree trunks and behind a bush. I could hear the jeep slow down, and as I peeped through the leaves I could vaguely make out the NWG logo. The jeep was only hovering a few inches above the ground now, and was going about 5 kilometres an hour. I sat there for what felt like an eternity, with my heart pounding in my throat and my ears straining for any trace of sound for more jeeps. There was nothing except the rustling of the trees to be heard, so I got up and straightened my uniform. Phew, that was close! I walked out on to the dusty road and made my way towards the third bush on the left of the largest oak tree. I pulled apart the shrubbery and felt around for the metal handle that would open the trapdoor. As my hand enclosed around the cold, hard object, I pulled towards me and the trapdoor it the dirt beside me with a loud clang! I scrambled down the long ladder, the darkness around me swallowing me whole. I hit the ground with a thud, and looked around at the dimly lit corridors and rooms that were made out of titanium. I didn't want to think of what Madam Bullwich would do to me if I strolled in late for the second time in 2 weeks. All I knew was that it would be bad. Really bad. I decided I would just face what ever she had in store for me, and hope that she didn't make me wish that I had gotten blasted to oblivion by the T.A.C.O rays. I slowly crept around the corner, praying for the slim chance that I could slip into class unnoticed. But before I could even take a look at my class mates I heard a "FREDERICK BAKER!!!!" And there she was. The long-nosed, grey-haired, hunch-backed old lady with a prison warden voice. "Where the hell have you been," she yelled "and why are you covered in leaves?!??!??!!!" Every part of me was shaking, and managed to mumble something about sleeping in and the NWG. I could see the relief in her eyes that I had made it here safely, but this wasn't going to water-down m punishment. "You are going to write a 6000 word essay on why you can not sleep in during these times, and what will happen if you get yourself caught by the NWG!" I thought I was the luckiest 14 year old boy in the world (and I probably was right)! She had let me off so lightly! Last time. . . . . . . I don't even want to talk about last time. I was about turn around to sit down at my desk when Madam Bullwich added "and then you shall eat it." It felt like a stone dropped into the pit of my stomach. We had run out of flavoured paper yesterday.

To be continued. . . . .


(I will edit this blog entry every now and then to finish the story.
For Drew and Issac: Don't copy and paste this last bit or the to be continued thingy and just write BANG at the end of the story.)