Route 666

November 29th, 2030
In a desperate attempt to re-unite the country after WWIII, the US government started to enforce things that they should have never considered.
They opened a cross-country highway to travel longer distances in a shorter time, helping to assist their cause, dubbing it Route 666.

New Law, New Nation?

The Uniting Law was passed on November 29th. The decision was unanimous, the first time this has happened in over fifteen years. The Uniting Law will, in turn, enforce new laws that pertain to the morals this one has created (mostly centered on destroying religion and breaking the barriers between Americans). It is to come into effect by December 5th.
Some argue that this is against American culture, due to the fact that Free Speech and Freedom of Religion will be taken away by the new Fiftieth Amendment. This Amendment will put all previous Amendments out of use, only suggesting that we follow the Uniting Law.
According to a report from the government, books and articles that go against our now pre-decided morals will be banned (this includes any fiction books or religious scripts). Every book that remains will be burnt. The internet will be searched for violations; those that are found will be permanently deleted. Homes will be searched as well as cars.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" My boss' voice threw my train of thought straight off the tracks. Jack was ridiculously light-footed, so I didn't hear him come in; I must have jumped about three feet in the air when he interrupted my reading (although he's probably used to it by now).

"Sure is," I shook my head, turning to him and trying to regain my composure. "But what can you do?"

"Hide your books and deny everything," Jack smiled. The guy sure had a knack for dark humor; my coworkers claim it developed during the war due to all the anxiety he experienced. I still think it's a pretty weird reaction. After the war, they diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and put me on pills. I didn't see any humor in that.

I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. "So, uh...what do you need?"

"I have a client on the phone to speak to you," he told me as he walked out. "Line one."

"Thanks," I called after him, picking up the receiver. "This is Jack Resliv, debt collector. How may I help you?"

"Hello," the man greeted me. "I'm calling to discuss my debt and possible foreclosure."

"Sure," I pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. "Could I have your name?"

As the man told me about himself, my gaze strayed to my computer screen, where the article on the Unifying Law was still up.

"Uh huh," I muttered into the phone as I read.

The government has finished the construction of the highway they will use to patrol the US and conduct annual car and home searches. It has been dubbed Route 666 and will pass mainly through the wastelands of the remiaining battlefields of WWIII.

As I closed the article and was about to ask the man to repeat himself, I heard the dreadful sound of a missile hitting the ground directly outside. My heart pounded as I was almost immediately drenched in a cold sweat, diving beneath my desk and throwing my phone away carelessly.

"Not again, not again, not again..."

The explosion caused the wall of my office to collapse, which should have brought half the building down in a few seconds. I shook and covered my head, closing my eyes tightly, waiting for the fatal impact and last burst of pain, the one that was all too familiar.

Someone started to shout, a terrible, heart-wrenching sound that could only mean that Death was on his way. I could see him now, just as the people in my old army camp would describe him--a newly sharpened scythe, his eyes mad with power, still hungry for more soldiers and civilians though he had been fed millions. He was never satisfied and on a rampage. We had defied Death for too long.

Jack came running in, surprisingly steady for someone whose workplace was under attack. He grabbed me by the back of my suit and pulled me out from under my desk with a grunt.

"Pull yourself together!" He scolded me, shaking my shoulders as his face reddened in sudden anger. "No one's attacking, man! World War Three is over!"

I finally opened my eyes; the screaming had stopped. It had been me.

"We signed the treaty last month," Jack muttered.

The End

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