《Bring Out Your Dead》 Bring Out Your Dead Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I looked into the rain and saw Jenny. Jenny was wearing a massive pancho and wearing a backpack. I broke into a grin "Listen we are both survivors those shares are mine so you know they can not charge you with aiding in a criminal conspiracy.. your bot will have taken video recording so you know that legally you will be fine" The magic words legally you will be fine they always worked. I grinned seeing the look of greed in Jerry face and got to work on my personal computer working out the codes to sell my shares in the drug companies that sold drugs to children. I had to be quick because once they stopped paying for the drug rehabs then all the addicts would die really quickly. In fact I was betting they would set up death camps to deal with the drug addicts. It was worth seeing if I could get a job in one of the new camps. 01 Jenny Jenny I hate the rain. It makes everything muddy and miserable. It reminds me of the day I lost Finbarr, my cousin and best friend. He was only ten years old when he overdosed on some pills he was given at school because he banged his knee. The teacher who gave him didn¡¯t know they would kill him, he said. I saw the look in my father''s face that day and knew that James was not long for this world. Now I have to walk in the rain to meet Tom, the man my father wants me to marry. He says it¡¯s for the best, that Tom is a good match for me. He says he knows what¡¯s best for me, better than I do. He doesn¡¯t care that I don¡¯t love Tom, that I don¡¯t even like him. In fact Tom is creepy. He looks young but with youth serum who knows how old he really is. I don¡¯t want to leave. I don¡¯t want to change. I don¡¯t want to marry Tom. But what choice do I have? Jobs are scarce and wages are low. Computers have taken over everything, from manufacturing to farming to banking. They say that humans will become obsolete and irrelevant. What chance do I have in this world? What future do I have? What hope do I have? I can¡¯t believe my mother lost her job because of a drone. She worked as a waitress at the local diner for 15 years, serving customers with a smile and a kind word. She loved her job and was good at it. But then the owner decided to replace her and the other staff with drones. He said they were cheaper, faster, and more efficient. He said they could cook and serve food without any mistakes or complaints.
But I don¡¯t think he realized what he was losing. He was losing the human touch, the personal connection, the warmth and hospitality that made the diner a special place. He was losing loyal customers who came not only for the food, but for the friendly service and the familiar faces. He was losing my mother, who worked hard to support our family and who deserved better than to be replaced by a machine. I hate those drones. They look like rolling shelves with trays and screens. They have no personality, no emotion, no soul. They can¡¯t chat with the customers, or crack a joke, or offer a compliment. They can¡¯t empathize with the customers, or comfort them, or cheer them up. They can¡¯t do anything that my mother could do. They can¡¯t replace her. They can¡¯t replace anyone. I think about my father, who is guarding our home with his gun. He says he has to protect us from the outsiders, who want to take our land and our resources. He says they don¡¯t care about us, or the environment, or the consequences of their actions. He says they are greedy and ruthless, and they will stop at nothing to get what they want. Stolen novel; please report. He says we live on a mountain of mine waste, but it¡¯s our mountain. He says we have a right to be here, to live here, to die here. He says we have a history here, a culture here, a community here. He says we have a dignity here, a pride here, a spirit here. He says we are not trash, we are not rats, we are not waste. But as I pass by a dead rat on the road, I wonder if he¡¯s right. I wonder if we have anything worth fighting for, worth living for, worth dying for. I wonder if we have any hope, any future, any purpose. I wonder if we have any choice, any voice, any power. I wonder if we are anything at all. I respect my father for doing what he had to do to protect us. He was a brave man, who faced many dangers and enemies. He had to kill some of them, but he never enjoyed it. He always said it was a necessary evil, a last resort, a matter of survival. But now, things have changed. Drones have made it easier for anyone to attack us from the sky, without risking their own lives. Drones have made it harder for us to defend ourselves, without exposing ourselves to their cameras and weapons. Drones have made it possible for them to force us from our home, without giving us a chance to fight back. Drones have made us helpless. Which is why my father has sent me to Tom. My father thinks that Tom can protect me from the drones. He says that Tom has connections and resources, that he can shield me from the threats and dangers of the modern world. He says that Tom is the only one who can offer me a safe and secure future. But I don¡¯t believe him. I don¡¯t think that Tom cares about me or my safety. I think that he only wants to use me as a trophy, a prize, a possession. I think that he only wants to control me, to limit me, to stifle me. I think that he only wants to take me away from everything I love and cherish. I don¡¯t want to be with Tom. I don¡¯t want to be his wife, his property, his slave. I don¡¯t want to be his victim. But I have to think about the future. About what could happen and has happened to Cordella. I think about old Cordella, who used to live next door to us. She was like a grandmother to me, always baking cookies and telling stories. She was kind and wise, and she always had a smile on her face. She taught me how to knit and how to play chess. She was my friend. But then a Bring Out Your Dead van arrived. The company Tom worked for came along and took her away. The workers in there bullet proof armour told us they could take care of her better than we could. They said it was a nice place, with comfortable rooms and friendly staff. They said it was a place where she could be happy. But I didn¡¯t believe them. I know now that Bring Out Your Dead vans actually send the old people to be murdered. Had i know then I might have died trying to stop them take her away. I am glad Cordella''s family all died in a home robbery the night they took her away. I made sure to wash my father''s boots well that night. I wonder what Cordella felt in her last moments, as they dragged her to her death. Did she feel scared, angry, or betrayed? Did she try to resist, or did she give up? Did she cry, or did she stay silent? Did she hope for a miracle, or did she accept her fate? I wish I could have been there for her, to hold her hand and tell her I love her. I wish I could have stopped them, to fight for her rights and dignity. I wish I could have saved her, to keep her with me and make her happy. I miss her still. But now I am approaching Tom and have to smile at the man who I will marry. I have to marry him because I do not want to end up like Cordella 02 Jenny Jenny shifted uncomfortably on the pile of earth that had been put on the bricks to make a floor on the abandoned building, the tarp above them flapping in the rain. The two workers, their eyes glued to the soap opera that was in front of them made her nervous so she tapped her gun. She glanced at Tom, her heart racing. They had to be careful¡ªher father''s word''s still echoed in her ears. If she did not go with Tom her father would not have enough money to send her brothers to rehab. Not that it really was rehab. It was just a box where they sent people to sleep and detoxified their bodies. "Tom," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of raindrops. "Do you really have enough money to support me if I go with you?" Tom''s eyes met hers, rainwater streaming down his face. "Jenny," he said softly, "I''ve been saving for years. The robots took all the waitress jobs, but I found a way to make a living. We can start fresh elsewhere. Look around every year more hurricanes hit. Every year more and more people are given drugs. Why stay here? If the gangs do not get you the acid rain or famines will." Jenny''s mind raced. She wanted security¡ªa future where she didn''t have to worry about scraping by. But was Tom telling the truth? Could she trust him? The workers shifted, their gazes unwavering. "Tom," Jenny pressed, raindrops clinging to her hair, "how much do you really have?" He leaned closer, rain dripping from his chin. "Enough," he murmured. "Enough to give us a chance. I have no plans to be sent to a death camp when I am older." Jenny''s heart fluttered. She had to decide¡ªstay and face her father''s wrath or go with Tom. There was nothing for her in what had been her home As the tarp rustled above them and rain pattered on its surface, Jenny wondered if this was her chance for a secure future or just another desperate gamble in a world where nothing was certain. Jenny pulled out a burner phone and made a call she hoped she would not regret. Jenny stood under the tarp, raindrops pattering against the fabric. The comfortable feeling of her gun let her know she had some control over the situation. Her phone clutched in one hand, she listened to her father''s voice on the other end. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn. She had agreed to marry Tom, but she hadn''t yet told him about the arrangement. Now, with the rain drumming overhead, she was about to broach a delicate topic: a prenuptial agreement. "Jenny," her father said, "you know how important it is to protect your interests. Tom is a good man, but life can be unpredictable." She nodded, even though he couldn''t see her. "I understand, Dad." "Listen," he continued, "you need to negotiate a decent prenup. It''s not about mistrust; it''s about being practical. You have nothing but you do not want him to sell your eyes or lungs to someone when he is done with you. You need to spell out what happens if things don''t work out." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Jenny glanced at Tom. He was creepy and cold but she had no choice but to marry him. She took a deep breath. "Okay," she said into the phone. "I''ll talk to Tom about it. Worst comes to worst I have Betsy" Jenny rubbed Betsy her gun and smiled at Tom. If he got out of hand she knew which piece of Tom Betsy was shooting off first. Her father''s voice softened. "Good girl. And remember, Jenny, this isn''t about killing him for giving you the odd smack it''s about being smart. If it looks like he is going to kill you then you shoot him and grind up his body." As she hung up, Jenny wondered about Tom. Tom had worked for Bring Out Your Dead the worst and most evil corporation the world had ever seen. He was most likely a control freak. Jenny stood under the tarp, raindrops pattering on the canvas above her head. The air smelled of damp earth and anticipation. She glanced at Tom, her soon-to-be husband, who stood beside her. They were both drenched, but it didn''t matter. Not when their lives were about to change forever. Jenny gave Tom a cold look "Fine I will marry you." An **arranged marriage**¡ªa concept that felt both archaic and terrifying. Jenny had grown up in Florida, where the sun kissed the orange groves and the ocean waves whispered secrets. At least it had now days hurricanes hit every year and there was a real risk of starving to death. She had loved the warmth, the familiarity of her hometown. But now, she faced a future that seemed as uncertain as the stormy skies above. She had seen families turn on each other and old Cordilla taken from her home screaming for help. Tom cleared his throat, breaking into her thoughts. "Jenny," he said, his voice steady despite the rain. "I need to tell you something." She turned to him, water dripping from her hair. "What is it?" He hesitated, then spoke in a low tone. "I am thinking of applying for a job in my old corporation **Death Corporation**." Jenny''s heart skipped a beat. Death Corporation¡ªthe name alone sent shivers down her spine. She''d heard rumors about their clandestine operations, their influence that reached far beyond corporate boardrooms. Not that the law meant much anymore They were more than just an evil corporation; they were a force to be reckoned with. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the rain. Tom''s eyes met hers, and she saw something there determination "It is the best option," he said. "It is not like the desert islands that are there are easy to acquire. All the natives have been killed off by people who got there before us. Which means they are ready to kill again." "But at what cost?" Jenny pressed. "You know they killed my neighbor right?" He looked away, raindrops clinging to his lashes. "Well look at me and Burt." he admitted. "Alright Burt is dead but he she managed to evade the collectors for years. They are not targeting old people anymore. Its the young people who have been addicted to pain killers they are going to kill next." Jenny''s mind raced. She thought of her brothers. They had been given pain killers by there teachers just like Finbarr her cousin who had died from a overdose. Only the fact Finbarr teacher had died violently soon after Finbarrs death had stopped the drug companies giving them free samples. Jenny signed "Fine but if you go to work for those drug dealing monsters again. I need you to keep my family safe." Tom looked into the distance "I will try but lets face it. Its not like a conscious is worth much anymore." "A soul Tom. Its not like your soul is worth much anymore" Epilogue Tom Hey Brother, It''s me your brother I will not mention my actual name here. The scanning robots will pick up any spare details we leave around. I hope this message finds you well, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life''s twists and turns. I am sorry I did not write after that last hurricane hit but things were hectic. I wanted to share some thoughts on the big decision I am wrestling with ¨C whether to return to my old gig at Death Inc. or make a break for it and disappear to some deserted island paradise. Here is the thing I think I can actually go back and get away with everything. If I do I can send you youth serum and you can come to America. I will write back when I know what is happening. Give Mom my best. Hey Tom, Are you out of your mind Tom they killed people at death corporation. So Choose the Path of Righteousness I hope this letter reaches you in good health and with an open mind, because what I have to say is of utmost importance. I''ve been doing some soul-searching lately, and I can''t shake this feeling that I need to reach out to you about your plans to return to work for Death Corporation. Listen, I know we''ve had our differences in the past, but when it comes to matters of morality and righteousness, I can''t stay silent. And trust me, Tom, going back to that evil company is the furthest thing from the path of righteousness. Remember why you left in the first place? It wasn''t just because of some petty office politics or a disagreement with your coworkers. No, it was because they were attacked and everyone that worked for death corporation was killed and for good reason. I mean, let''s not beat around the bush here ¨C Death Corporation is straight-up evil, plain and simple. Speaking of which, let''s talk about your other option ¨C running away to some deserted island and living out your days in isolation. Trust me, I get the appeal of wanting to escape from it all, to leave behind the chaos and corruption of the world and find solace in solitude. But that''s not the answer either, Tom. You can''t run from your problems forever, and sooner or later, they''ll catch up to you. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Now, I know you''ve been struggling with your faith lately, but I urge you to reconsider your decision to return to Death Corporation. Think about what you''re doing, Tom. Think about the kind of person you want to be, and the legacy you want to leave behind. Is it worth sacrificing your soul for a paycheck? Is it worth risking eternal damnation for the sake of temporary comfort and security? Sooner or later you will have to pay for what you have already done. How many people have you sent to their deaths? I''m not saying this to scare you, Tom. I''m saying it because I love you, and I care about your spiritual well-being. If you go back to work for Death Corporation, you''re not just putting your own soul in jeopardy ¨C you''re putting mine at risk too. I won''t stand idly by and watch you throw your life away, and if it comes to it, I''ll do whatever it takes to stop you, even if it means resorting to drastic measures. So please, Tom, I beg of you, reconsider your decision. Repent for your past mistakes, seek forgiveness for your sins, and choose the path of righteousness over the path of darkness. Only then can you truly find peace and redemption in this life and the next. With love and concern, Garry Tom I looked at my brother Garry letters and then at Jenny who was sleeping on a sleeping bag on top of the loose soil I had used because the bricks in the abandoned building we were squatting were too uncomfortable to sleep on and began to think about things. Jenny woke up and I smiled at her and explained what was going to happen. " Alright, so here''s the deal. I know what you''re thinking ¨C going back to work for Death Corporation sounds like a one-way ticket to the ninth circle of hell. And honestly, you''re not wrong. But hear me out, ''cause this decision didn''t come lightly. First off, let''s address the elephant in the room ¨C Death Corporation''s less-than-stellar reputation. I mean, we''re talking about a company that makes the devil himself look like a boy scout. They are about to start picking up drug addicts off the streets and force them into these shady camps where they will be killed. It''s sickening, I know. But here''s the thing ¨C I want to live. And as much as I hate to admit it, Death Corporation pays better than any other gig I could land right now. So yeah, call me a sellout if you want, but a guy''s gotta eat, right? Plus, there''s the whole "better the devil you know" mentality. I''ve been down this road before, survived the trenches of Death Corp, so to speak. I know how to navigate their twisted bureaucracy and dodge their morally bankrupt policies. And who knows, maybe I can even make a difference from the inside. Or I might try maybe. So yeah, we are about to head into the lion''s den, armed with nothing but my wits and a healthy dose of cynicism. Will it be easy? Hell no. Will it be worth it? Well if we are alive in five years then it will. So bring it on, World. I''m ready for whatever twisted games you''ve got up your sleeve." Jenny laughed at me "Great you used a computer generated program to tell me what I wanted to hear didn''t you?" I sighed "I remember when that used to work you could use one in a bar to pick out your next target and bang suddenly you were at her place." Jenny looked me in my eyes "Do you have other options?" I nodded "Yes but the money is too good "