CH 1: NEW THREE STRIKES LAW
What the fuck! What is the noise all about? Jack walked down the street minding his own business when an army truck pulled over and a soldier jumped out in front of him. ”Do you have a gun buddy?” he asked. Of course he did, he was on his way to steal electronics but luckily he knew his rights, the soldier couldn’t search him without cause. “Fuck you!” he yelled as he tackled Jack to the ground. “Look pal just shut up” he said as he tore his jacket off and found Jack’s gun tucked in his belt. Then he opened up the back flap of the truck and threw him in like a bag of garbage. “What the hell? You have no right!” Jack shouted. “Give it up man it’s useless trying to talk to them,” a burly biker with blood dripping from his head mumbled. It was dark and it stank in the truck with standing room only. Jack’s heart beat so hard he could hear its’ rhythm in his ears. He had faced cops before for fencing shit but this was completely different, this was the army.
“Mr. Stevens, carrying a concealed gun without a permit was your third offense. With the new three strikes law there is no trial, or jury, and you are not afforded the right to a lawyer” the judge informed Jack. He was between two armed guards in an empty courtroom. What the hell was going on? “Wait a minute I only have two charges,” Jack said as he tried to defend himself, surprised to hear the quiver of fear in his voice. “Your record shows you also have several shoplifting and vandalism charges from the juvenile system,” she said. “Mr. Stevens I hereby impose a life sentence with no chance of parole due to its abolition.” The sound of the gavel echoing through the room took his strength away. His legs buckled and he grabbed onto a guard’s arm for support as the two pricks dragged him away. The men held him down and stabbed him with a needle then threw him into a holding cell. It was a nightmare; it couldn’t be real! His eyes got heavy and the drug pitched him into darkness.
Jack woke up his hair matted from sweat and being on the floor. He was thirstier than hell, and his head pounded so bad he thought his skull was about to split open. His back was to the wall and when his eyes finally focused on an unbelievable figure. It was made of smooth seamless steel and was shaped like a man. It silently pointed one steely finger to a blood-red door at the end of a long empty hallway, herding them like cattle inside despite their protests. Jack stood like a moron with the others looking for the cells but they were in a huge warehouse the size of a football field with rows of mattresses on the floor in the center. “What the hell?” he asked.