Dependent (Complete)

[Sophie ♥]

Hey guys.  This is just a quick one-shot worldspace I came up with.  Like and Comment!  Please enjoy.  

PDF and ePub versions are available on my Patreon.  Please consider supporting Pudding and myself!

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Dependent
by: Sophie

 

“John!” 

The middle-aged woman raised her arms and wrapped them tight around my chest, pushing her face into my uniform.  If she had touched me one second sooner, I would have flipped her over my shoulder and pinned her to the tile floor of the grocery store.  But I had time to suppress my training - Mrs. Anderson wasn’t a threat.

“It’s so great to see you,” she said with a bright smile.  You could read her sincerity like words in a book.

“It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Anderson,” I told her.  Though my own inflection carefully hid my intent, I was truly glad to see her.  It had been almost a month, since… “How’s Tanner?”

“Please, call me Beth.” She took my hand and led me around the corner, past the aisle of frozen peas, until I came face to face with a boy in a stroller.  He looked up at me with recognition, with panic, and started to wail.

“Oh goodness, Tanner!  Be nice to Mr. Maxwell!” She reached between the boy’s legs - forced apart by the thick diaper hidden under his overalls, and picked up a green pacifier.  Beth popped it in Tanner’s mouth and he started to suck and settle down.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Beth apologized.

“It’s alright,” I assured her. “I get that a lot.”

“I suppose in your line of work…” Beth trailed off, looking forlorn.

Five years ago, younger generations began inhibiting American progress.  Millennials weren’t getting married or buying houses.  Birth rates were down.  The diamond market crashed.  Corporations lost millions to trendy boycotts.  Every governmental process was slowed by protests and allegations.

At first, it was just a joke: catchy headlines for second-rate news sites.  Then the Pandemic hit.  Pharmaceutical companies launched a new flu vaccine, after buying their way past FDA regulations. The country was again divided: half the population took the vaccine and the younger generations refused in protest.  Eight weeks later, a new flu devastated the nation.  It mutated in the bodies of those who weren’t vaccinated and everyone was at risk.  A pharmaceutical company ultimately found a cure, but only after Millennial ignorance killed thirty-five thousand people.

With no explanation for the younger generations’ thoughtless actions, the United States government concluded that those that displayed immature, reckless behavior after the age of seventeen were mentally ill.  They were sick and they needed care.

Two years ago, the Dependent program was the answer to all the country’s problems.  Adults with a revolutionary presence or rebellious histories were reformed into good little boys and girls.  The process took only a few weeks, after which the Dependents were a foot shorter, thirty percent lighter, and happily compliant.  They were assigned willful caregivers and taken to a loving home.

To date, 6% of the United States population was Dependent and other countries had started adopting similar policies.  Of course, there were places that thought the Dependent program was unethical, but the United States had always been an innovator.

Tanner - once a twenty-eight year old man - sat in the stroller and sucked his pacifier, quiet and content.  Last time I saw him, his eyes were bright and lively.  Today, they were dull and glossy: the mark of a Dependent.

“I’m so glad I ran into you,” Beth said to me. “Last month, Tanner was such a bad boy.  I wanted you to see what a little angel he really is!  And that’s all thanks to you.”

“It’s no trouble,” I told her. “I was just doing my duty.”

The boy in the stroller started whimpering through the pacifier.  He squeezed his eyes tight and started to grunt.  Beth and I watched as he strained and pushed, finally settling back into the stroller with a warm smile on his face.

“Looks like this little soldier just did his duty too,” I laughed, patting Tanner Anderson on the head and ruffling his shaggy blond hair.  He looked up at me with those innocent glossy eyes.  Then static filled my right ear.

“Maxwell.”

I rose my hand to touch the earpiece.

“Here.”

“We have an 84-Bravo.  The director wants Peters, but you’re closer.”

I turned my attention back to Beth, who had been looking on with amazement.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I have to go.”

“Of course, of course!  Go on now!”

Beth Anderson practically shoved me out of the store.  I had been halfway through grocery shopping, and now I’d have to start all over.  But work took priority.  I climbed into my car and started it with the push of a button.  My headset paired with the vehicle’s wireless interface.

“Maxwell, you there?”

“Yeah, Skip.  I’m here.  Send me the coordinates and all the target information.  Deploy my team - I want six of them geared and ready to go in twenty minutes.  I’ll meet them on site.”

“You got it.”

A map popped up on the car panel with new directions.  I switched on my siren and pulled out of the grocery store parking lot.  Cars moved out of the way as I sped down the street.

A chime rang through the car and a notification popped up on the interface.  I pressed a button on the steering wheel to open the file, but I wasn’t prepared for the face staring back at me.  Long, auburn hair, sky blue eyes, pink cheeks, photographed without a smile…

Amanda Summers.  Corporal Amanda Summers.

I swerved into the shoulder of the highway and slammed on my brakes.  Was there a mistake?  This had to be a mistake.  I swiped the file to the next page and read through the notes.

‘…after the initiation of her sister, Summers became uncooperative.  She led a political resistance group against the Dependent program, using her resources as a paralegal to undermine the efforts of…’

Yeah, that sounded like Summers.

I sat back in my seat and ran my fingers through my hair.  Fuck…

“Maxwell?  You alright?  The tracker says you stopped.  Do you need backup?”

“No,” I sighed. “I’m alright.  I thought I hit a cat or something, so I was checking it out.”

“Such a softie,” Skip laughed. “Your team is inbound.  They might beat you there.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I peeled off the shoulder and onto the highway, heading uptown.

Summers and I had been in the military academy together, years ago.  She was spunky.  Irritating.  Asking questions, pushing limits.  She wanted to be better than the system.  She didn’t want to be a punk with a gun.  She wasn’t a soldier at heart; she was a leader.  She could do more with a soapbox than I could with an arsenal.

It didn’t help that she was drop-dead gorgeous.  She made men uncomfortable, with her rosy cheeks and her shimmering eyes.  Her perky breasts.  Her firm ass.  Guys always wanted to show off; they had to “prove themselves” or something.  It got her a lot of attention and caused her a lot of trouble.

If she had learned to bend, just a little, everything would have been so much better for her.  Maybe none of this would have happened.

I pulled up outside the two-story colonial and turned off my sirens.  Red and blue lights flashed over the vinyl siding.  Neighbors were standing around, fear on their faces.  Someone had taped off the area.  I kicked open my car door and hurried toward the black truck in front of the house.

“John, good of you to show up.” Liam was already dressed in full tactical gear, black from head to toe.  On his shoulder - emblazoned in white lettering - was the word: SWAT.

“What’s the situation?” I asked, pulling a bulletproof vest out of the van and over my head.

“One Dependent.  Female, twenty-nine, ex-military.  The house was locked down twenty-two minutes ago by Emily Brookfield.”

“Caregiver?”

“Yeah.  She has a wife - Margo - but there are only two readings in the house.  Maybe this girl killed the caregiver?  She has a military background.”

“I doubt it,” I sighed.  Summers wasn’t the killing type. “Check with the neighbors, see if anyone has seen her.  I’ll talk to Michael.”

“You got it, boss.” Liam took a few steps away, backwards, so he could get one last word in. “Get your gear on.  Don’t go in there half-dressed trying to look like a badass.”

Who had time to get dressed?  Full tactical gear took forever and a day to put on, and I knew better than to give Summers more time to set up her defenses.  If Peters had gotten here before me, if he had been the one to go in that house, she might have gotten away.  I silently thanked Skip for the heads up.

“Any breaches?” I asked Michael, strapping an ammo pouch to my hip.  Tranquilizers, of course - Caregivers weren’t allowed to have registered guns or weapons.  The most Summers would find in that house was a kitchen knife.

“No, sir.  The perimeter is secure.” He spun the screen to face me, so I could see for myself.  Every Caregiver house was surrounded with a perimeter fence.  Dependents had a small chip that would signal when and where they crossed through the fence.  Lockdowns were different.  Once initiated, it would call the SWAT dispatch, and any Dependent that passed through the fence would activate their tracking protocol.  The only way out undetected was to get a Caregiver to turn off the fence, and Summers knew it.

“LET ME GO!  I live here!  Let me through!” I turned to find a woman pushing past my team, toward the house.  I hurried to intercept her before she got too close.

“Woah, woah, slow down,” I told her, catching her by the shoulders.  Her hair was straight and brushed, but her eyes were puffy with tears.  

“This is my house!  My daughter is in there!  Please, let me through!”

“Margo Brookfield?” She nodded, trembling in my arms. “I’m John Maxwell, the leader of this team.  I promise, everything is going to be just fine.  But you need to stay calm.”

“She’s a good girl!  She’s the sweetest, most wonderful, cutest little girl, she didn’t do anything wrong!  She didn’t!”

“Ma’am, please,” I went on. “Your wife put the house on lockdown so something is wrong in there.  We’re just going to figure out what it is.”

“Please don’t hurt her, please don’t hurt our Amy, she’s such a good girl…” Margo was in shambles, tears dripping down her cheeks.  

Poor woman, I thought.  Caregivers were always like this.  They were as innocent as their charges.

“We aren’t going to hurt her, Mrs. Brookfield.  I promise.” A promise I knew I would have to break.  But it was all part of the job.

“Sir,” Michael called from behind me. “The team is ready.”

After escorting Margo behind the perimeter, I grabbed my gun and met with Liam at the front gate.  He looked me up and down, at my lack of equipment, and shook his head.

“Not even a helmet?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” I told him. “You’re taking point.”

The plan was simple: Liam, Thompson, and Reggie would take the front door.  I’d slip through the back door with Kingsley.  Liam would scout downstairs and I’d take the back staircase to the second floor.  Easy as pie.  But we hit our first obstacle when the back door was locked.

“Break it?” Kingsley asked, staring through the darkened glass with his flashlight.

“No, let’s stay quiet.”

I took out a little glass cutter from my hip pouch and cut a circle out of the doorwall.  Kingsley reached in to unlock the door, and let out a sharp scream.

“Fuck!  Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He ripped his hand back through the glass door, spilling blood all over the deck.  A huge gash went straight through his hand, soaking his glove in blood.  I turned my attention back to the doorwall to see a shadow move across the glass.

I clicked the button on my comm. “Go, go, go!” And then, to Kingsley: “Head back to Michael and get patched up.” With a hand like that, he wouldn’t be any good to me anyway.

Just as I heard the front door busting open from the other side of the house, I kicked in the glass door and shattered it onto the kitchen floor.  My flashlight scanned the dark room, across the counters, under the table, and along the ground.  Around the shards of glass were… marbles?  Before I could react, I heard a sharp snap, loud rattling, and a scream from the front room.  

Fuck.

“Sir, Reggie’s down!  A knife came out of nowhere, and—”

“Get him outside,” I whispered into my comm.  Apparently I hadn’t been giving Summers enough credit…

I hesitated at the bottom of the stairs.  If I were in her shoes, small narrow corridors - like staircases - were great for traps.  I shined the flashlight over the wood panels until a glare reflected back at me.  Fishing line.  As I ascended the stairs, I stepped over it.  When I got to the upstairs landing, I turned off my flashlight and tip-toed down the hall.

“Sir,” Liam’s voice filled my ear. “Downstairs is clear.  I sent Thompson with Reggie, so it’s just me.”

I tapped my comm once, so he would know I received the message.

“Should I come up?”

I tapped the com twice.  No.

“I’ll guard the doors.”

Then I heard a voice that wasn’t Liam’s or Michael’s.  I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Please,” she whispered. “I know you think I’m this little girl who you need to care for, but I’m not.  I’m not.”

“Amy, sweetie…”

“I’m not Amy, I’m Amanda.”

“You’re confused,” the other voice said.  Emily, probably.

“No, I’m not.  I’m not confused - I’ve been brainwashed, turned into a baby, just to keep me quiet.  To keep me from stopping them.  Please, you have to turn off the lockdown.  Please, before they find me.”

“They’ll fix you,” Emily told her. “They will.”

A floorboard creaked under my foot and the voice stopped.  Damnit…

I heard shuffling and made my move.  I busted through the closed door and scanned the room, gun drawn.  A woman, in front of me.  Older.  Emily.  And then, before I saw her coming, Summers appeared from behind the door and disarmed the rifle from my hands.  In less than a second, she’d turned the barrel on me.  Then, surprise flashed on her face.

“Maxwell?”

“You always were fast,” I chuckled, raising my hands in the air.  The last thing I needed was for her to shoot me with tranquilizer.

“You’re… SWAT?”

“Yeah, moving up the food chain,” I told her. “And you’re…” I looked her over.  She was so much the same.  Beautiful auburn hair, but it was cut short and tied up in pigtails.  Sky blue eyes, filled with confusion and anger.  Undeniably attractive, though she was so much smaller.  No wonder I hadn’t seen her coming.  But the most surprising thing about her was the dress: fluffy and pink and designed for a little Dependent girl.

“Maxwell,” she said again, quieter this time.  Taking it in.  And then louder, with certainty, she said: “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening,” I told her.  She had to make one mistake.  She had to lower the rifle a fraction of an inch.  I only had to bide time.

“None of this is what you think, John.  The Pandemic?  That was all planned!  The government let that vaccine through, knowing how unethical it was.  They started the public backlash.  The protests.  Everything.  And when half the world was so wrapped up in fighting the system, they made them the bad guys!”

“It’s a nice conspiracy theory,” I told her, glancing sideways at Emily.  She stood in the corner, frozen to the wall.  Her face was stark white.  She was so scared.

“It’s not a theory!  I saw the file myself!  After Renee was taken away, after they turned her into a mindless little baby, I did my research.  My coworker got me into a server at Pfizer.  They created the cure to the flu virus because they’re the ones that made the virus in the first place!  I have all the data, I do.  I can prove it.  You just have to get me out of this house.”

Was she serious?  Or was she delusional?  Obviously the latter.  But some of what she said…

“John, please…”

“Okay,” I said softly, with a sigh of resignation.  I reached up and tapped my earpiece. “Michael, I got her.  You can end the lockdown.”

A panel on the wall - on the other side of the room, near Emily - beeped and flashed green.  I gave Summers a nod.

“Everyone else already fell back,” I told her. “You’re quite the soldier still.”

“Thanks,” she said, shuffling her way to the door.  She never lowered the rifle.  She never gave me an opportunity.  Then, like the wind, she was gone.  Out the door, down the stairs, to her freedom.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Emily shouted at me, trembling as she stepped away from the wall. “You have to go after her!  You have to bring her back!”

I held up a finger at her.  A second of silence.  Then a gunshot.  If I was right, Liam had been waiting by the door.  I hurried downstairs, to the back door, where glass and marbles littered the floor.  Sure enough, Amanda Summers was curled up against the wall with fear in her eyes.  Liam had his rifle pointed at her and my gun had been kicked across the room.

“You let a little girl like this disarm you?” Liam laughed.

“I’m not a little girl!” Summers shot back.  But the dart, sticking out the side of her leg, had rendered her unable to walk.

“Good shot,” I said to Liam and patted him on the shoulder.  Summers looked up at me, betrayed.

“Don’t…” she whispered, under her breath, but her voice was filled with hopelessness.

I picked her up off the floor and sat myself in a chair at the kitchen table, pulling the tiny girl over my lap.  She kicked and squirmed and tried to fight me, but someone her size stood no chance against me.  I lifted the back of her dress, exposing the seat of her crinkly pink diapers.

“Don’t!” she said again, louder. “Please, don’t!  It’s a conspiracy!  They’re using you!  They’re—”

SWAT!

One swat shut her up.

SWAT!

Two made her tremble.

SWAT!

Three, and tears dripped down her cheeks.

SWAT!

Four, and I could feel the warmth on my hand as her diaper grew wet.

SWAT!

Five, and it was over.

“MOMMY!” she screamed, bawling her eyes out. “Mommy!”

Emily didn’t care about the broken glass.  She ran across the kitchen floor in her bare feet and took the sobbing girl in her arms.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay sweet girl, shh… Mommy’s here…”

Summers curled up to her Caregiver’s chest and cried like it was the end of the world, and Emily cooed and played with her hair.  Finally, she looked up at me in the darkness and gave me a tired smile.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

“I was just doing my duty,” I told her.

Amanda looked up at me with big, scared, glossy eyes.  Distant, lost.  The Amanda Summers I knew was gone, and if there came a time she when she returned, I’d have to swat her diapered bottom all over again.  That’s how things were.  But something was still bothering me.

I climbed into my car and sunk into my seat.  Looking out at the house, my thoughts drifted to Summers’ story.  One line in particular…

“I have all the data.”

If that was true, then the data was still out there somewhere.  Hidden.  I should have asked where she put it, but Emily was in the room.  I couldn’t trust her.  I couldn’t trust Liam.  One wrong move, and I’d end up just like Amanda Summers.  A shudder ran up my spine.

But what becomes of a world where good men do nothing?  No, this warrants some investigation.

[End.]

[Hugo]

This was a very good reading and literally calls for further development of the established Universe and characters! I hope to see more.

[Sophie ♥]

I may write a spin-off story in the same universe.    Also, fanfiction is totally welcome.

Thanks for the kind words!

[kirababy]

interesting start...would love to read more, has the making of a great story

[Cute_Kitten]

I was surprised reading this- I haven't read anything like this from you. Then again, I haven't read all your works so maybe there's similar ones I missed. But this was very enjoyable. 

The pacing and tension were well done. There were only a few procedural errors, but those are just minor nit-picks and don't effect the quality of the story/ writing.  Very nice twist at the end, with Amanda and Liam.  

[fyunch]

That was fun.  I suppose he could have pretended to humor her and ask where the data were, but any untrusted observer would then know, so that's that.  Nicely done.

BTW, how does one edit the title of a post?  And how do you make the tags red?

[Sophie ♥]

Thanks for all the kind words guys.   It was sort of uncharted territory, but I'm glad it went over well.

17 hours ago, fyunch said:

BTW, how does one edit the title of a post?  And how do you make the tags red?

Title of the story is changed by editing the first post.  Not sure about the tags since I don't use them very often.

[ShadeOfAce]

Huh, that was an interesting read. I love how you turned SWAT into a double meaning here, nice idea.

[Sophie ♥]

39 minutes ago, ShadeOfAce said:

I love how you turned SWAT into a double meaning here, nice idea.

I am so proud of myself for that.  Puns are great.

[thedman]

Dang, I was so getting into this storyline and universe and then boom its over

['Lil Wendi]

Sophie, I love your stuff but, this is probably the worst thing you've ever done.

[Sophie ♥]

3 hours ago, 'Lil Wendi said:

Sophie, I love your stuff but, this is probably the worst thing you've ever done.

Whaaa, why?!

[ChloeNova]

Honestly, I really liked the story. I thought it was really cute and had a lot of potential to exist as like, an actual story rather than a short story! 

[Guilyn]

7 hours ago, thedman said:

Dang, I was so getting into this storyline and universe and then boom its over

I really think Soapy should do more in this universe.  It's somewhere between Kimmy's Keeperverse and PPP's Diaper Dimension.  Instead of hypnosis it's more brain washing, think Reek from Game of Thrones (no spoilers).

[Sophie ♥]

35 minutes ago, Guilyn said:

I really think Soapy should do more in this universe.  It's somewhere between Kimmy's Keeperverse and PPP's Diaper Dimension.

Huge praise.

35 minutes ago, Guilyn said:

Instead of hypnosis it's more brain washing

Probably a combination of the two.

To be honest, I didn't have a solid idea of "how they do this" when I wrote the story.  But I will probably write a side-story about the regression process.  It's probably two parts - first one uses brain washing and chemical stuff to remove a person's identity, and the second part uses hypnosis to add an infantile persona.

[Guilyn]

5 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

To be honest, I didn't have a solid idea of "how they do this" when I wrote the story.  But I will probably write a side-story about the regression process.  It's probably two parts - first one uses brain washing and chemical stuff to remove a person's identity, and the second part uses hypnosis to add an infantile persona.

I know this will sound bad when I said it but maybe do a little research into real brain washing, you'd be amazed what you can made someone do, say and believe.  Though it's REALLY dark stuff.  That being said you could make it not so dark for your story.

[Sophie ♥]

17 minutes ago, Guilyn said:

Though it's REALLY dark stuff.  That being said you could make it not so dark for your story.

It's a satirical hyper government-controlled conspiracy worldspace.  I think /DARK/ fits right in!

['Lil Wendi]

I'm sorry,  Love Sophie and Pudding stories, however I just didn't like this one

 

I just didn't like it. The story, not you, I luv your work.

[Sophie ♥]

29 minutes ago, 'Lil Wendi said:

I'm sorry,  Love Sophie and Pudding stories, however I just didn't like this one

Of course!  Not everything is for everyone!  Thanks for reading all the same.

['Lil Wendi]

Sophie,and Pudding, you are the best. I'm sorry I put a downer on your work. I look forward to what comes next.Again, I'm sorry for the negativity.

[CDfm]

This was totally awesome! My only problem is that it ended way before I wanted it to. So action packed and full of suspense. Had to give it a like. 

[Sophie ♥]

47 minutes ago, CDfm said:

This was totally awesome! My only problem is that it ended way before I wanted it to. So action packed and full of suspense. Had to give it a like. 

Awww!  Thanks!   You should be seeing a spin-off short story soon set in this universe!

[YourFNF]

On 3/20/2019 at 10:33 AM, Sophie ♥ said:

Two years ago, the Dependent program was the answer to all the country’s problems.  Adults with a revolutionary presence or rebellious histories were reformed into good little boys and girls.  The process took only a few weeks, after which the Dependents were a foot shorter, thirty percent lighter, and happily compliant.  They were assigned willful caregivers and taken to a loving home.

Yeah this is were I hop over the Canadian border. Like and I thought being, lynched or burned at the stake was the worst possible outcome for our inevitable descent into authoritarianism.... Can I take firing squad as an option instead? ?

@Sophie ♥

[Cute_Kitten]

On 4/4/2019 at 4:14 PM, YourFNF said:

Yeah this is were I hop over the Canadian border. Like and I thought being, lynched or burned at the stake was the worst possible outcome for our inevitable descent into authoritarianism.... Can I take firing squad as an option instead? ?

@Sophie ♥

I love reading your reactions/ comments on stories. Your responses feel honest/emotional/ to me. (Uh, I hope that doesn't sound really weird). Like, the feels are reals? (Ah, sorry if I'm making no sense, just ignore me.)

[YourFNF]

36 minutes ago, Cute_Kitten said:

I love reading your reactions/ comments on stories. Your responses feel honest/emotional/ to me. (Uh, I hope that doesn't sound really weird). Like, the feels are reals? (Ah, sorry if I'm making no sense, just ignore me.)

?

No, glad to hear. I worry my ranting comes off as annoying....