The Safety Of The Vegas / Henderson Zone Essay

2132 Words Jun 25th, 2015 null Page
We moved over a year ago, when Mother became the Director of Defense for the Vegas/Henderson Zone and I hadn’t seen my dad once. I’d wanted to make the trip all summer. But Mother and Carlos, both respected leaders in the community as Twelver Primes of the Henderson Temple, had eyes everywhere. The fear of getting caught kept me in line, but nothing could keep me from going now.
To avoid traffic, I took Greenhouse Alley, speeding past acres of plastic domes assigned to those who didn’t own land. Every family in the Zone had to grow the bulk of their food. Thanks to me, we had a beautiful vegetable garden in the backyard beside our greenhouse.
Most who lived in the Zones were Twelvers, but some, like Dad and grandma Welita, refused to be converted. Like many of the Henderson Originals, they followed the Laws and were allowed to live under Twelver protection, in the safety of a Zone.
Anyone who lived outside of the Zones was a Rebel. The front parking lot was full, I just couldn’t get a break, and I had to park in the one behind the depot. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel. If she caught me there’d be no mercy, but as long as I made it to the hospital to see my dad, I didn’t care. I said a quick prayer for courage, and exited the Jeep.
The August heat in Vegas, its thick air and blinding sun, had me gasping before I reached the back of the building. Sweat ran down the middle of my back - I hated to sweat - but still I ran.
At the front of the depot…

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