Browne Candidate

Now!" The Pale Soldier commanded Aurora as she pushed her into the vehicular monster called a 'Unit'. Stumbling up the corroded ramp, a wide-eyed Aurora stood rubbing the angry black place on her arm where the Pale Soldier had fastened hid grip moments before. She scooted to the back of the Unit, as far as possible from the unyielding Pale Soldier.

Pale mechanical cyborgs served as the Garden's security. They usually arrived with stunners, laser guns or Johnnys. They lacked a conscience and emotion. They used their weapons excessively and without hesitation often with deadly results.

Aurora surveyed the greasy interior of the Unit. The Pale soldier paid her no attention as he shoved her out of his path, lowered himself into the operator's seat, and started pressing several buttons on the Unit's dashboard. His fingers, moving automatically to the correct sequence of buttons, sped pass Aurora's eyes in a blur of creamy white and black colors.

A ragged empty area where the passenger seat of the Unit had been ripped from its hinges and haphazardly replaced with a steel two-level cart on which weapons, such as bats, solid steel balls and knives rested in disarray. Swinging around the thin legs of the cart were three sizes of handcuffs. Flecks of what looked like blood and other dark substances stained their ugliness.

The metal had been worn away and sections of them bore dents and dings indicative of heavy use.

Aurora hustled further back retreating until her back touched the metal wall. She smeared dirt and grease into her ivory torn sweater as she scrambled on her hands and knees across the floor. Black smudges streaked along her boots in places where there weren't any holes.

"Good." The Pale Soldier pressed a final purple button on the console and a gate erected a barrier between him and Aurora.

A red digital screen read the temperature as 30 degrees. It felt much colder as Aurora's breath condensed into wispy white puffs of air. The arctic coldness of New England Tre never rose above forty degrees; yet, the Unit was devoid of a heater. Its driver didn't seem to mind, as the Unit appeared to shiver before lunging westward.

Once moving, the light inside the Unit became dim like the quickening of a long forgotten sunset. The only visible light came from the flickering digital thermostat and swirls of dust whirled as they floated in the air stimulated by the Unit's movements. They danced in the red light like dancing embers from a burning fireplace. Aurora could taste it on her tongue, gritty and metallic, and she wept as her tears left frozen salt trails upon her face.

End of Prologue

About the Author: Nicole Givens Kurtz has been the Contributing Editor for Suite101.com's Short story topic (1998-2002) and a contributing writer for AFRIQUE News Magazine (Chicago). She is the publisher/editor-in-chief of Mocha Memoirs Ezine (1998-present), an instructor at Virtual University, a book reviewer for Ebooks on the Net and an adjunct professor at the University of New Mexico, Gallup. She has written four novels including, BROWNE CANDIDATE (2003 EPPIE Science Fiction Finalist), THE SOUL CAGES, and A COMPLETE WOMAN. Nicole has been hailed by the Midwest Book Review as a "powerful new voice in women's fiction." Read reviews, novel excerpts and short stories at her website, http://www.mochamemoirs.com/NGivens.htm.