((To be honest this is my first time posting anything on this site, so I don't have a firm grip on the legal stuff, no matter how hard I try to read all of the "terms and aggreements" they have you read before making an account here. All I can say is this: I am a huge fan of Mad Max, and I will never take full credit for it's world and it's characters. This story I have written was just an idea I had for some sort of possible remake. A sort of "Re-imagined" version of the original story I watched on my TV. I loved the original, and I hope you enjoy reading my "re-imagined" version of Mad Max.))
(dys-to-pi-an: noun
a place resembling a large area or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one.)
-Based on the original movie by George Miller and Byron Kennedy-
DYSTOPIA
1968: America was at the brink of civil war. The economic struggle was going on for far too long, and several states were contemplating the idea of seceding before any violent conflict came into action. After the New Jersey Riot, most of the southern states decided to separate from the United States, from Arizona to Texas to Luisiana, all deciding to become one nation; the Southern Republic of Columbia. For a few years, things started to look better for the two separated nations, like a bad relationship between a couple who finally break up. That was until more criminals started to move in the new nation. Since the Southern Republic was mostly covered in desert, gangs from all over had a better opportunity to take advantage of the loopholes they found in the newly aquatinted Lawbook of the Republic. This made things hard for law enforcement, as the deserts were seemingly endless roads, and no one outside of the cities were safe. The Republic needed a way to combat the road gangs, a task force to make the desert road-lands safer. And so, in the year 1979 the Main Force Patrol was made to sweep the streets.
Somewhere in the middle of a desert in Arizona, there lays a single road that goes down to an intersection. A patrol car is parked next to this road with two MF officers sitting lazily in their seats. After a long period of quiet boredom, their radio suddenly kicks on.
“March Hare to Big Hopper, March Hare to Big Hopper. Come in.”
As the radio speaks the first sentence it’s ever said all day, Charlie jolts up and snatches the communicator from it’s holster.
“Big Hopper here, what’s going down?” As Charlie speaks, his partner sits up.
The radio replies quickly.
“This is a routine pursuit. Code 44. We got a cop killer.”
“Yer kidding!!”
“Be warned, Big Hopper, this is a non-accomplice. Suspect is armed and is now driving down the 42 highway in a standard Main Force patrol vehicle. We must not compromise territorial range. Over?”
“Copy that, March Hare.” Charlie says as he starts the car and turns the siren on. “Migs, get the gun! We’re not taking any chances with this asshole!”
Charlie’s partner, Migs, does as he says, pulling out a double barreled hunting shotgun from the back seat of the car.
“We never do, Charlie. Heheeeeh. We never do!” Migs laughs as their car shifts into gear and roars it’s way along the seemingly endless road, making it’s way to the intersection where the suspected cop-killer is driving towards. Charlie holds the radio com in one hand as he drives.
YOU ARE READING
Dystopia (part 1)
Historical FictionAmerica is split into two countries, no longer unified by it's amendments. Crime has reached a new high, as the law enforcement has focused it's resources within the cities that still remain after countless wars. This is a story about the greatest l...
