The Force (The United Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  The Force

  The United Trilogy I

  By: Paige Clendenin

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Paige Clendenin

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  Publishing and Cover Design by:

  Hydra Productions

  Plano, TX

  657-206-5360

  https://www.hydraproductionsonline.com/

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter One

  My mind feels fuzzy as of lately, and I spend most of my time in my head. I allow myself to stay there for far more time than I should just trying to find me, somewhere within, the real me, who I know I’ve always been.

  Almost always, I just end up staying there… daydreaming… dreaming of a better time, life, and world than we live in. It gets me into a lot of trouble, though. My daydreaming, that is. I try to keep going over facts in my head to keep it from feeling so clouded.

  I don’t know what makes it feel this way, but it has been this way for about a year I would guess, maybe even longer. I’m beginning to think that there is something wrong with me, and I have to go over facts about the present to bring me back to reality.

  My name is Elizabeth Towers. I live with my mother Penelope, my five-year-old sister, Lydia, twelve-year-old sister, ShaeLei, and my twin brother, Elious. We live… well.. I don’t actually know for sure where we live. All I know is that it is somewhere in the East Corridor between what they call York and The Z.

  Only the big cities that are still intact have names. Everything in between those big cities, all the little sections, are just known by a letter and a number.

  On the first of every month, we have to go and report at what they call a government booth. When we are there, my mother has to tell them that we are the Towers family from section R9 of the East Corridor between York and The Z, reporting for our monthly check in as scheduled.

  If a family does not make it on the first of the month to report, the eldest member living in the household will be lashed, and the children will be sent to live in a service camp for one month until the next report day. At that time, the eldest member can come report and claim their children at such time as all requirements are met..

  Then, we report the number of members in our household and each of our names and ages. After that, we are given some kind of shot, most likely for infection, checked for head lice, and given twenty pieces of money to last our family of five for an entire month.

  It usually doesn’t….

  Only the families who are without fathers are given a household expense each month to survive, although each family in our Corridor is required to report.

  My father, Robert, died four years ago when Elious and I had just turned fourteen. We were told it was a work accident caused by a mechanical problem of some kind, but we never got to see the body…

  The very thought of the words, “the body” makes my skin crawl, and I shiver visibly.

  I don’t know if anyone noticed that I did, I don’t care either, even though I sit in the middle of a lecture class filled with others my age.

  I am told that a lecture group and our compound is equal to classes and schools of the olden days, but a little different, because we don’t learn about math or English.

  I realize now that my name is being yelled at me over and over by my instructor. It is probably due to my daydreaming..

  Startled, I jump in the air, almost out of my seat, and my entire lecture group laughs at me.

  My cheeks turn red, and I have to clutch the hem of my shirt to keep me from busting out in anger..

  There is not toleration for outbursts.

  “Yes, instructor Philip,” I say as I look at her rather sheepishly.

  Philips looks at me with a hint of anger in her eyes as she walks closer to me with her arms folded across her chest. “Towers.” she says, as she always addresses us by our last names. “You are eighteen, you have been instructed now for eight years, and this… is your last year. If you cannot behave or even answer simple questions about these Corridors by your advancement day, how do you expect to be placed into proper employment?”

  Advancement day occurs the exact day that you turn eighteen and six months old. On that day, we are all told what job we will have in our section of the Corridor, and with who and where we will live. That is to be who we are and what we do for the rest of our lives.

  “I….. I don’t,” is all that comes out of my mouth, because, it’s true..

  “Alright,” Philips says in a gritty tone through clamped teeth and deep breaths. “Go now and stand in the front of the room.”

  She points at the wall where an old, green, lesson board hangs, and I venture up to the front of the room, not sure what is going to happen to me.

  I turn to face my lecture group who are still snickering at my expense. “Ok group.” Philips says in a commanding voice. “Ask away.”

  It is now that I know what is going to happen; I am to be interrogated by my fellow lecture group members about our home, these Corridors, yet again….

  I roll my eyes.

  A boy with a nice smile, Brad I think his name is, stands at his seat. “What was the name of these Corridors before the war began?”

  Proud that I know the answer, I blurt out, “The United States of America.”

  Without congratulations from anyone, my best friend Maria Lopez stands up. “What were York and The Z known as before the war?”

  I know this one too. “New York and New Jersey.” I say with a smile on my face.

  Again, there are no congratulations, but I know I am correct by the smile that I see in Maria’s eyes.

  My brother stands… “How many Corridors are there now, and can you name each of them?”

  “Five.” I shout out… “North, South, East, West, and Central Corridors.”

  Phillips nods her head at me in an approving way, yet the questions are still pelted at me. I answer questions about World War Three, our rulers, which are a nameless group of nobodies from no specific nationality that call themselves The Elected, although no one actually elected them. They are not even from here originally, and no one likes them. Lastly, I answer the question that burns at me the most… Who are the group of rebel soldiers that steal young people to fight for their cause against The Elected, against their own will? Who are those who kidnap at random to provide a so-called better life for the young people of the Corridors, but in turn makes them ruthless killing machines?

  Not sure that I should even speak the answer out loud, I quietly say, “The Force.”

  The answer was correct, I know it, from the reactions and looks that I see on everyone’s faces…

  The questions finally end, and I start back to my seat, but then a distant bell rings, telling us that lecture is over for the day. Elious, Maria, and I walk out of the room in a silent, straight line and then head down the halls of the lecture compound to the twelve-year-old room.

  Here, our so-called schooling is from ages ten to eighteen; anything learned before the age of ten, is done so at home.

  Once we arrive to the lower level section of the compound, Maria picks up her brother Isaac, and we receive ShaeLei. The five of us walk together to the large lecture hall at the end of the building. There we are given daily news reports and updates on the war that has been going on for seventy years now. Since 2025.

  Most days it’s just ten minutes or so of ramblings about our oppressors, the war between Corridors, and reminders that we are not to cross Corridors or jurisdictions or we could be killed.

  Not that any of us would be dumb enough to try.

  Today though, it is a little bit different. We are being reminded that it’s been a year since The Force raided us for new members. We are reminded to be careful and to try to stay out of sight as much as possible both to and from our homes and the lecture compound.

 
They wouldn’t actually cancel lecture for the week… No. That would be unheard of.

  On the third week of April, every year, The Force takes new members.

  And I mean take, as in steal, as in forever, never to return.

  The very thought rattles me to my core.

  Finally, the lecture ends, and a short bell rings telling us that it is time to go home.

  Elious, ShaeLei, Maria, Isaac, and I walk home together, dodging behind bushes, trees, and buildings until we make it to the Lopez house where we safely deposit our friends and then run down the blocks, to the safety of our own home.

  The Force, most of the time, do not come into people’s homes, so here, we are safe, for now.

  Chapter Two

  While Elious keeps an eye on Lydia and helps ShaeLei with her Corridor history homework, I help my mother prepare dinner. Tonight, we are having a humble meal of chicken and broth with a few mushrooms Elious and I picked and a quarter of an onion we have been saving for days.

  Dinner is more broth than anything, though, but it’s not that bad. After all, we have eaten far worse, and far less.

  After supper, the dishes are done, Lydia falls fast asleep as usual, and my mom, brother, sister, and I join our hands, and bow our heads in prayer.

  We do this every night.

  My mother begins, “Dear Lord, thank you for your love and guidance. Please give protection to all of my children, give wisdom to them to know how to help one another if need be. Provide safety to all the children of our Corridor.”

  And we all say, “Amen.”

  Our mother kisses our heads and then departs with ShaeLei to tuck her into bed and then go to bed herself.

  My brother and I linger, though, as we normally do most nights, talking and sharing our thoughts.

  We have a connection stronger than most siblings do. I think it is because we are twins, but maybe because we have had to rely on each other for so long.

  We really look nothing alike, though. He is tall and broad in the shoulders, yet lean in other places. He also has muscles from fighting so much at the lecture compound.

  He has a temper, especially when his sisters are involved. If someone so much as looks at us in the wrong way, he pounces. He has gotten rather good at it… fighting that is.

  He has dark brown hair, a few shades darker than my own, it is much shorter now that spring is here, and eyes that change colors with his mood.

  It’s the most interesting thing to see.

  The girls at the lecture compound look at him a lot. I know he is decent looking, but he is my brother, so I never think of him in that way. Brothers are supposed to have cooties and be disgusting, but I’ve never thought of him that way either.

  I, on the other hand am curvy, but in all the wrong places… at least I think so, but it doesn’t bother me much. Boys don’t look at me anyway.

  I rarely think of myself as being pretty outwardly, but I do know my inward worth, and it comes mostly from the pride I have in my family and how connected we are, even in silence.

  “What do you think of The Force?” I ask Elious in a quiet voice, a voice so quiet that ShaeLei can’t hear me.

  She is so frightened by even the mention of them, so we try to refrain from talking about them around her. We try to refrain from talking about them at all but being the time of year, it is, my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

  “I don’t know what to think.” Elious says, even more quiet than I asked the question. “I have heard so many things from so many people that I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Yeah, me either,” I say. “I just know that when I think of the possibility of us being separated… I mean if one of us were taken… Elious, I don’t know what I would do.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Yeah, but what if it does?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a while, almost like he is wondering if he even believes that it won’t happen.

  “Elizabeth,” he finally says. “I think there is something wrong with me. I can’t explain it, I have thought it for a while now. At least eight or ten months, but my head and judgments are cloudy and I…”

  “Me too,” I interject.

  “You too?” he asks. “What’s it like for you?”

  “It’s like I’m not me, like I am in a daze half the time, and the other half, I am in my head so much that I get lost there.”

  “Me too,” he says, quietly as he looks down at his hands. “Me too.”

  “Maria,” he continues, “was telling me that she felt the same way the other day, but I just thought that she was just trying to be nice because I was feeling so bad, and maybe she was… but there is no way that we all three feel the same way for no reason.”

  We sit quietly even longer this time, Elious staring at his hands, and me looking at the wall across the room. I don’t think that either of us knows what to say.

  “Do you think that we are being drugged or something?” I finally blurt out. “Maybe even so we don’t cause a problem for our Corridor?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” he admits, in a hushed tone, but now he is looking me in the eyes. “But what do we do about it if we are?”

  “Maybe, we should drink a lot of water, so we can flush our systems out if we are being drugged?”

  “Elizabeth,” he whispers, “what if it’s in the water?”

  I must look scared because he takes me into his arms and holds me there in his embrace for the longest time. This part of him feels more like a father than a brother, but I don’t mind.

  After our father died, Elious, maybe out of obligation, became father-like. He took the rolls of a father in the aspect of helping around the house and with the younger kids, but he never treated me different.

  He always treated me equal, like a sister rather than a daughter, and that is how I wanted it, but sometimes, I miss my father’s hugs and warm thoughts. Elious can tell when those moments are, because he allows me to be weak like a child for a little while, but not as long as I sometimes think I need.

  After we break apart, I lay across the couch, and we talk lighter hearted than before. We talk about the lecture compound, his laughing at me over me getting in trouble in lecture today, and as he usually does, he badgers me about Maria… my best friend… his crush.

  Maria likes him too.

  After a while, I must have fallen asleep, because I wake at dawn still on the couch, but covered up.

  Elious must have done it just before he went to bed.

  I hear my mother in the kitchen and get up to go help her, but I see Lydia reach for me, so I pick her up and carry her with me.

  “Count for me,” I say as I sit down at the table, holding her in my lap, as we watch our mother make eggs.

  “One, two, three, four, five...”

  “I am so proud of her,” ShaeLei says as she walks into the kitchen barefoot and sleepy eyed.

  “Me too,” I whisper, as I kiss Lydia on the top of the head.

  My brother walks in wearing the same clothes he had on the day before, scratching at the back of his neck like he does every morning.

  “Good morning, family.” he says as he takes a seat in our father’s old chair at the table.

  We sit in silence as we eat our breakfast, as we do most mornings.

  We are each given one egg, a triangle of dry toast, and a glass of water.

  It’s the third week of the month, and our money and food supply are running rather thin, so… I know not to eat as much as I think I want or need.

  We all know not to ask for seconds, even Lydia, because there is no more to have and because it upsets our mother that she can’t provide for us in the way she would like.

  Even if my father were alive, we would only have what he made each month, which wasn’t much, and then we had six mouths to feed. Plus, Lydia was a baby at the time, and she required milk, so things have always been hard.

  They are for all the people in our Corridor though, so it’s not like we are any different than the other families around.

  I get up and start doing dishes, and Elious and ShaeLei go upstairs to get ready. It’s then that we begin to hear a noise from outside, the sound of distant rumbling. We all stop and listen for a moment, wondering what the sound could be. “Motors,” my mother says, but we don’t reply because we know what that means.