A nation out of control! Freedom lost. I have my chilling personal account that I must get off my chest. I had tried to repress it but thankfully the article posted by my good friend and conspiracy theorist jogged my memory as proof that we have in fact lost our freedoms. You know, the story where the La Porte, TX police officer/government agent arrested that woman for not watching her kids. Anyway, the article is all over the place, Prison Planet, Info Wars, Alex Jones radio, etc… serving proof that we are now a Soviet style police state. Anyway, the posting jarred my repressed memory about my run-in with out of control law enforcement that I must tell the world about. Some one has to speak out.
It was dark, approximately 10-PM. I was driving East on the Gene Snyder and just passed the Old Henry exit when the engine began to sputter and died. I had run out of gas, less than a mile from my Lagrange Rd exit and a Thorton Oil station. As I coasted, in neutral, looking for a safe spot on the side of the highway…to my shock, I glanced into my rear view mirror, blue lights kicked on.
Obviously I had been being monitored by a government drone overhead that instantly relayed the event to the officer that I was acting or driving suspiciously. These guys are good, and amazingly quick. They had obviously dispatched an officer to investigate the no-good I must be up to, and to ask me for my papers.
As we both rolled to a stop in the emergency lane, I quickly considered fleeing from my vehicle. There was a fence a few yards away and the possible safety of an apartment complex beyond the fence where I might make my escape. But knowing that the Government agents would likely shoot me I had to quickly do the mental calculus…die with a bullet in the back on the side of the highway or deal with the probability of being sent off to a FEMA concentration camp for indefinite detention without a trial. So rather than instant death, I chose to get out of the car and to instead attempt to make my deal with the government agents.
I carefully exited the car as other vehicles whizzed by. The uniformed police officer approached, female, early 30’s, LMPD, armed. I sheepishly said, “officer…I feel stupid but I just ran out of gas. I thought I could make it to my exit but it didn’t work out.” She was very clever, so as not to tip her hand to what she had in store for me. She didn’t ask me for my documents or any ID. What is she up to? My mind raced.
Obviously ready to cuff me and take me downtown she said, “hop in my car and I’ll take you up to Thornton to get some gas.”She obviously had other things in mind but I had no choice but to get into the back seat for the short trip to the gas station or where ever they take citizens for transport to FEMA camps.
I couldn’t ride up front because she had a government computer on a stand that was likely streaming video from Drones and giving her orders from her government overlords in DC. It takes the spot of any potential front passenger. Or at least that is what they’d have you believe. Having never ridden in a patrol car before, I was afraid for my life and my freedom. I know that the NDAA gives the government the right to detain me for any reason and to do so indefinitely, without trial. If they can detain a terrorist...why not me? Surely ‘no gas’ was one of those reasons.
The power of the LMPD cruiser’s engine was obvious as she accelerated back on to the highway. She’d taken me on this drive, toying with me by actually pulling off at the Lagrange exit and then turning into Thornton’s. But that is where my journey turned to one of pure terror. She pulled up next to…gulp... pump 8. That was the sign to me that the conspiracy was in full gear.Pump 8 was no coincidence. It was her insidious acknowledgement to Building 8 at the WTC. No building has ever fallen like WTC 8 and she knew it. She stops at a freaking gas pump 8 no less. All the symbolism was there. The pump resembled a mini version of WTC 8. Gas…comes from the Middle East. I knew I was dead man walking.
Being in the back seat of the squad car I couldn’t open the door to escape. She knew that. Part of her strategy I assume. It was her way of showing me who was in charge. It’s all about control. But unexpectedly, she gets out and walks around to let me out. The door opens….so I make my run into the Thornton, and to safety. Once in side I glanced to my left and what do I see? My heart sunk in my chest.
It would seem innocent enough to most people. A red plastic gas can that had been placed into inventory, only to become part of the broader conspiracy. It was too convenient. So what to do? I could run and bring possible government wrath on my whole family. They’d find us all. And obviously a drone or possibly two by now were circling up above. Knowing full well that the camera’s inside Thornton’s had been hacked by the Government black ops people I could not hide. I had to think. What now? They are watching me. I had to buy some more time. So I grabbed the can from the shelf and made my way to the cashier. She had an ear piece thing that was being used as a form of communication. She could not be trusted. I think she was in on the conspiracy, waiting for me to slip up. “Give me $5 on pump.. 8.. please.” She took my fiat currency.
I walked back to Pump 8 with the can and filled it with $5 of the medium grade gas. That was the point it finally struck me. The gas was going be used to burn my remains. It was kind of like when the Nazi’s gave you a shovel to dig your own grave before they put a bullet in your head. At least now I knew my fate. There was a kind of peace that came over me knowing how it would play out.
The cap firmly in place on the can, I opened the door to the squad car and carefully sat back down. She put the car back in gear and headed back to the highway. That short walk to “the chair” seems like an hour but in reality takes only a few moments later. She pulled behind my car with her headlights illuminating it, no doubt for the drones to have a better view.
She opened the door for me and I stepped out, tightly gripping the can of fuel. It was my time. I hoped death would be swift and painless. So step by step I made my way to the drivers side rear where the gas tank cap is located. I bent down to my knees. This would be it. My life flashed before my eyes knowing my time was up. I poured the gas, a bit less than two gallons, into the tank. I got inside the car and it promptly sputtered and kicked back to life.
I glanced back to the officer.The bright headlights of her squad car, yielding only her sillouette, as she said, “it looks like you got it…” I waved and said my thank you for everything. Drones swarming like mosquitoes and drunk with power, she got back in her sqyad car and drove off to take the freedoms of another citizen somewhere down the road.My Gawd, our freedoms are nearly gone.
© Copyright 2016 scott wesley. All rights reserved.
Essay / Thrillers
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