“Dad! Huey found something in the backyard. Come, and take a look! DAD!”
Lewis buried his aching head under the linen pillowcase and sighed. “Not again!” he muttered under his own breath.
His six-year-old only son Jack was always yelling and jumping around, especially on Saturday mornings when all the energy school and homework had kept in check came back in full force to haunt his weekends. Lewis loved his son more than anything, but he also loved sleeping in late whenever he had the chance and God knew how much he needed the rest.
Lewis was a truck driver who mostly transported fresh fruit and vegetables to make sure no supermarket stand ever ran out of produce. At the beginning of the year, a massive strike, which he wanted to be no part of but had no say in the matter, had threatened his livelihood in a way he never believed possible. Those had been scary and uncertain times he had no interest in reliving again. After the fright, he had committed to doing extra runs every month to make up the money lost, and the straining effort was now taking a toll on him.
“Dad! Please come here!” Jack screamed again and he would not stop doing so until his father humored him. Lewis stretched in bed and tried to get up, but his sore muscles immediately resented it. He had driven almost 2,500 miles the week before and his energy levels hadn’t recuperated yet. He hated to admit it but perhaps he was getting too old for such long adventures.
Lewis was almost fifty years old. The hairs on his head still had the same healthy golden-brown color that had made many a girl swoon in his prime days, but the signs of age were showing off elsewhere. Every morning when he looked in the mirror, he spotted a new wrinkle or a hint of flabby skin. His smile had lost part of its natural splendor and one of his teeth hurt every time he took a bite at something hard. He didn’t remember the last time he had been to a dentist let alone any physical check-up. The money was better spent elsewhere, anyway.
The weary man took a deep breath and tried to get up again. Walking a hundred feet to the spot where Jack and his best friend Golden Retriever were frolicking around shouldn’t be much of a hassle except it was. His body refused to comply, demanding two additional hours of sleep before allowing him to walk around the house again. Normally, he would listen to its demands, but he couldn’t. If Jack came running into the bedroom, Huey would follow him, and the last thing he needed was the furry beast’s muddy paws making a mess of things again.
Finally, he got up, glancing at the bed groove where Kathryn should have been sleeping, too. “Groceries, right,” he mumbled, rheumy eyes and half-open lips working in unison to bring him back to reality. He left the bedroom behind, descended the small flight of stairs leading to the ground floor of the house, took a hard turn into the kitchen where the smell of blueberry pancakes was still in the air, and walked toward the door that marked the threshold where the sanctity of his abode ended, and the uncertainties of the outside world began. 
It was a cold November morning and the garden outside had seen better days. the once proud green grass was starting to look brown and withered. He immediately noticed the freshly dug hole. Huey was sniffing the soil and wagging his tail while Jack looked hesitantly at the strange wonder his dog had uncovered. What was it this time? The plastic bone from last Christmas? The pair of blue socks he could never wear? No, sadly nothing so mundane and therefore easy to ignore. It was...
... a bomb.
“What the fuck?” Lewis muttered and pinched himself to verify he was truly awake and not having the weirdest dream of his life. The sudden pang of pain confirmed his expectations and made all his senses go on high alert. This was real and potentially dangerous.
There was no doubt about it. The gray and red logo on the right side of the dormant projectile was a stark reminder of a 20-year attack that could have resulted in one of the greatest tragedies known to man. 
They called themselves the New Amazonian Movement, NAM for short, even though no one used the acronym not even for propaganda. They were a radical group that believed in Female Supremacy as the only true way of life and its members were willing to do whatever it took to make their visions of a new world come true. In its early years, NAM thrived mostly in online forums and in the deepest recesses of the dark web, seducing young impressionable minds with tantalizing ideals of a sexually charged global matriarchy that was to rise from the ashes of failed men-centric worldviews. As a fringe group, no one took them seriously, and while various intelligence agencies monitored their communications regularly, no one believed that their threats of overthrowing the government would ever amount to anything more than a group of old men and women yelling at clouds. Their resolve was severely underestimated and that could have been fatal.
Lewis wasn’t in the capital when the first artificial pheromone explosives detonated, but he remembered watching the panicked reports on the news and thinking that the world had finally gone insane. Fifteen thousand men were enslaved that day and an equal number of women awakened to dreams of unrelenting dominance they had never experienced before. The purple gas clouds spread violently across the city, changing people’s belief systems from within. A small exposure wasn’t particularly dangerous resulting mostly in a bad case of migraines and some confusing thoughts that lasted about a week, but things were different the more people breathed the gas. Its interactions with the nervous central system could become permanent after two or three hours. There were also reports of extreme susceptibility cases where the same mind-altering parameters became a reality after little less than fifteen minutes. For many innocent people caught in the blast radius, life would never be the same.
The attack on the capital was a harrowing moment and a wake-up call to the many horrors lurking within the country. The group’s nefarious ambitions were thwarted two days after the first blasts, but not before a dozen more devices exploded in other major cities. How an unaccounted bomb had found its way to Kennebunkport, Maine was a mystery and not one Lewis was eager to solve.
“Dad, what is it?” Jack asked.
“Stand back. And get Huey out of here, too!” Lewis replied, relying on his faulty memories to observe the half-buried device. He had never seen one of those up close but fragments of images on the TV came to him to show him how to proceed. The bomb’s outer casing appeared to be intact but there was no way of knowing for sure until the contraption was completely above ground. Each explosive device had four gas canisters, two on the inside and two on the outside, with the latter ones clearly missing. Was this a relic from a failed detonation? Was he looking at a dud?
“But Dad...” Jack insisted, unhappy about his fun being cut short."
“Do as I say, young man. This is not a toy for you to play with. This could be dangerous.”
“Okay. Come on, Huey, let’s get some ice cream,” Jack called his energetic pooch and they both ran to the kitchen. Lewis continued to observe the device, all the while mulling on the best course of action.
He could try to take it out himself but that was a reckless move, and he had no intention of either playing the fool or the hero role. Calling the authorities to properly dispose of it seemed like the most sensible move but did the Kennebunkport Police Department even know what to do in a situation like this or would federal intervention be required? There were too many questions on his mind and not enough answers. The most important thing was not to panic. 
“Deep breaths, come on,” he said as he dashed to the garage to get a tarp. When he returned to the garden, he covered the hole with it and returned to the house to make the necessary arrangements.
Jack was already sitting on the sofa watching some weird-looking cartoons while the dog desperately tried to lick the caramel ice cream off the bowl he was holding. Lewis picked up his phone and called the police.
He was still trying to get a connection to the department when his wife returned with two paper bags in hand, one of which was filled to the brim with an assortment of colorful vegetables. Kathryn was looking as lovely as ever with her golden curly hair shining in the morning sunlight. She was wearing the same outfit as the day Jack had been born, a not-so-subtle hint that she wanted their son to have a baby brother or sister before she lost the ability to conceive.
“Hello stranger,” she teased him, waving a bag in front of his troubled gaze. “Look at the size of these carrots! They’re even bigger than your...”
“Not now please,” Lewis interrupted her, something he never did unless the circumstances were dire.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, just make sure Jack and Huey stay indoors, okay? Oh, and don’t go out in the garden either. I need you all here.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Kathryn dropped the bags on the kitchen counter. “You need to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help.”
“I will as soon as I get this done. Please, honey, you need to trust me on this for now.”
“Okay,” she shrugged, giving him the benefit of the doubt but not feeling confident about it. Lewis was not a man to keep secrets or ignore her pleas. Whatever was going on had him worried and was bound to upset her, too. She quickly stored the groceries away and joined Jack and the pup in the living room while he mumbled to himself waiting for the call to go through.
Lewis paced himself back and forth and then headed upstairs to get dressed. He was still in his black and white pajamas, an unacceptable attire for when the police came knocking at his door. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, a charming female voice finally answered the call, saying,
“Kennebunkport Police Department. Good morning. How may I help you?”
“Good morning,” Lewis replied. “My name is Lewis Morton and I know this may sound hard to believe but I’ve just discovered an old bomb in my backyard...”
“I’m sorry, sir, did you say a bomb?”
“Yes, I did. I wish I hadn’t but it’s true. My dog discovered it about half an hour ago. It was the old NAM logo on it and I don’t know what to do. I think we’re going to need a bomb squad here.”
“Sir, are you trying to pull my leg here? Because statements like that are dangerous and we don’t take that kind of disinformation lightly around here.”
“I’m not lying. I can send you a picture or shoot a video if you like. There’s a fucking bomb in my house and I want it gone as soon as possible. I don’t know if you remember the NAM attacks and the mess they caused back in the day, but I don’t want that thing anywhere near my family. If you can’t help me, then transfer this call to someone who can. Help me, please!”
“Please hold one moment, sir,” the police officer said, her voice marred by incredulity. She transferred the call to her Captain, a man Lewis knew too well from college days.
When he was nineteen, Frank Willoughby was considered by the Portland Press Herald as Kennebunkport’s bachelor most likely to succeed in the big city. That prediction never came true but with time he made a name for himself in the force, following the footsteps of his father and grandfather. He was a stout man with a deep sense of honor and an immense love for women whose passion had already translated into four marriages in fifteen years. Well-respected in the community, he was Lewis’s best chance to be heard and the truck driver silently cursed himself for not remembering to call him directly.
“Lewis, it’s me,” the police Captain said. “What’s this story about a NAM explosive device?”
“Oh, Frank! Thank God! Listen, this is insane, but yeah, Jack asked me to go to the backyard and there it was. It’s a nasty-looking thing, and it needs to go. You believe me, right?”
“Of course I do, old friend, but I never thought I’d live to see the day when the old rumors may have proven to be true.”
“Old rumors?” Lewis asked, sitting on his bed. “What are you talking about?”
“When the NAM was disbanded after the attack, there was a national investigation of the group to search for potential assets associated with it as well as storage units where they could hide more bombs for future attacks. One branch of the investigation led the feds here, but they never found anything. I guess they weren’t looking in the proper place.”
“Storage units?” Lewis mumbled his thoughts in complete disarray. “Are you suggesting there may be other things like that around here?”
“I don’t know, Lewis, but this may very well be our chance to find out. You didn’t touch the explosive, right?”
“I’m not crazy, Frank. Of course, I didn’t. When can you get it out of here?”
“I’m afraid it may take a while. Anything related to the NAM’s activities needs to go to the FBI and they’ll take it from there. In the meantime, you should consider taking your family away from the property as a precaution. I’ll also try to ensure the evacuation of the surrounding houses. I’ll dispatch a couple of units to secure the area until federal contingency measures are in place, but it may be hours or a day before they get here. Do you have anywhere to go in the meantime?”
“I... Yeah. Kathryn’s mom lives in Biddeford and I’m sure she’s okay with letting us stay there for a bit.”
“Good. Pack lightly and lock the doors then. I’ll get the ball rolling on my end to make sure nothing bad happens. Don’t worry, Lewis. We’re not going to let those radical bastards destroy our way of life. Go! I’ll call you when the situation is resolved.”
“Okay, Frank, thank you. Be careful, okay? If that thing blows up...”
“I know. Go, my friend. Take care of your loved ones and let us handle the rest. It will be okay.”
Lewis hung up and grabbed a travel bag from the wardrobe. Kathryn would not be happy to hear him talk about leaving the house in a hurry but once she saw the danger they were facing, she was sure to understand. He finished getting dressed and headed downstairs again, saying, 
“Honey, It’s time for you and me to have that talk now.”
There was no response from the living room or any of the other divisions in the house. Jack and Huey were nowhere to be seen either. “Kathryn, where are you?”
“Right here, silly,” she replied appearing from behind him as if she were a ravenous ghost hellbent on scaring him to death. 
“Jesus, don’t do that!” his heart skipped a beat. 
“I’m sorry, dear. What do you want to talk about?” she cocked her head and smiled.
“Where’s our son? We need to leave the house as soon as possible.”
“He’s walking the dog around the block but what do you mean leave? Does this have anything to do with the explosive device back there?”
“You’ve seen it already?” he gasped. “I asked you not to go outside.”
“I know you did but I got curious when you didn’t answer my questions. You should have known better by now...” she continued smiling, an unnerving monotone in her usually warm and friendly voice.
“Please tell me you didn’t touch it.”
“Relax, I didn’t, but even if I had, there wouldn’t be a problem, right? Isn’t it a dud?”
“I’m not sure. Probably, but we better not risk it. I already called the police into the situation, and we were advised to get out of here until they know more. Can you please go get Jack so we can be on our way?”
“I could do that, yes, but I don’t really feel like doing that, sweetie,” Kathryn mumbled, a brief purple glow flashing in her pupils. It was only then he realized she was holding a fire poker behind her back.
“Kathryn, what are you...?”
“Let’s talk, hubby,” his loving wife cackled as she hit him furiously in the forehead with the sharp metal object. Lewis’s head exploded in a cornucopia of pain as he stumbled backward and collapsed on the floor. The call of unconsciousness rang within his brain and the world plunged into total darkness.

* * *

Lewis woke up an hour later in the basement. He was tied to a metal pole with dried blood on his forehead and temples. There were two police officers knocked out in a corner of the dimly lit room with similar blows to their skulls. As far as he could tell, they were alive but in rough shape. Had Kathryn done that as well, but why?
“Oh, fuck!” he exclaimed, the realization of his greatest nightmare hitting him like a rock. “She’s been exposed to the gas!”
Kathryn opened the basement door and waltzed inside holding a cylindrical canister in her hands. Unlike the main casing of the explosive outside, the small object had two cracks, one at the top and the other at the bottom, and they were both leaking out small quantities of the mind-warping mist. Her head was enveloped in a hazy aura as she breathed the relic of a not-too-distant past. Even after two decades, the compound had lost none of its potency, expertly changing her vision of reality with every deep inhale.
“Kathryn, what are you doing?” Lewis asked. “Where did you find that forsaken thing?”
“It was right next to the bomb, dear,” she said, standing before him with an evil grin on her lips. “Had you dug a little deeper, you would have found it, but don’t worry. I did it for you while you were on the phone.”
“Where’s Jack? What did you to do our son? And these officers... Kathryn, you need to get rid of that thing before it rewrites your mind permanently.”
“Jack is staying with the neighbors while we talk and those officers... well, they said they were here to guard the place, so I invited them for tea and biscuits,” Kathryn tapped her feet on the concrete floor. “They need to learn, too.”
“Kathryn, please! This isn’t you!” Lewis struggled against the ropes burning his wrists and ankles. “Being exposed to that thing is turning you into something you’re not. “
“Something I’m not?” Kathryn smirked, taking another deep breath. Her eyes were now completely purple and lit up from the inside out by an unquenchable thirst for power. “You mean, dominant? A Goddess who deserves to be worshiped by every male walking the face of this earth, starting with you? You’re wrong, Lewis! This is a blessing that came to me to show me what I’ve been missing out on. And yes, I know they’re coming to take the bomb away but when they do that, it will already be too late for any of us. I will have embraced my superior nature fully and your brain will conform to the idea of serving me for the rest of your life. The same goes for them, of course,” she pointed at the unconscious officers. The New Amazonian Movement figured out the truth a long time ago and I’m happy to finally partake in it. Here," she placed the leaking canister in front of him. “Breathe the wonder of feminine supremacy and male subservience. You’ve been a good husband, I’ll give you that, but what I need now is an obedient slave. You will submit!”
“NO!” Lewis screamed but his desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. The woman talking to him dressed and looked like Kathryn, but it wasn’t her. The new personality had already replaced the loving wife who couldn’t hurt a fly. Kathryn 2.0. was vicious, cruel, and would stop at nothing to be pampered.
The purple mist started building up on the basement floor, creating a thick layer of forced compliance that was coming to claim his free will. Lewis held his breath as it crept up his nostrils like a parasitic infection for which there was no cure. His synapses flared up upon the first contact, dark fireworks exploding everywhere. No one knew how the NAM had created such a powerful biological weapon, but its power was undeniable. The gas was a herald of change and Kathryn was the first of a new batch of undisputed rulers.
Lewis gasped as the haze slid down his throat and his brain was inundated by visions of a ghastly future as her mindless thrall. 
He saw himself in the master bedroom, a cock ring controlling his erections while he begged to lick her shaved pussy clean.
He saw the two officers in the background blowing each other off, their parched lips glistening with fresh cum.
He also saw Kathryn’s mother coming home to visit and embracing the same overpowering persona as her only daughter, muddy boots demanding thorough cleaning while she painted his back red with a nine-tail whip.
Finally, he saw the New Amazonian Movement banner flying across the sky as its influence grew again, changing one family at a time. A single canister couldn’t create so much mayhem but perhaps Frank was right. There were others lying around in the city, perhaps a few more under his backyard too, and if one could be easily uncovered by a curious snout, what was stopping all others from suffering the same fate little by little? The visions weren’t a prelude to the future, but the course of reality already in motion.
Kathryn stood proudly while the last of the gas leaked out and the empty canister filled three empty husks with undying subservience. All men were slaves and Patriarch an elaborate lie whose veneer was already cracking. There was no hope for victory.
He fell asleep once more, the first time under a new ruler. Goddess Kathryn walked inside his mind as he did so, leashing his memories and bringing them to heel. He would remember nothing of what had happened to him when the FBI came knocking with their expert teams in tow. The bomb would go away but not the hole in the garden of his mind. 
“Don’t think, just obey,” his owner cooed while he remained fast asleep in the basement. “You’re my property now. You all are.”
Lewis couldn’t answer out loud, but his subconscious did it for him, kneeling at the altar of the explosive device that had waited twenty years to fulfill the purpose of its creation. Revolutions take time and start with an individual before becoming a choir of enraged souls. 
In the beginning, the NAM said there was no Heaven or Hell and that only Women were divine. In the end, everyone would say the same, smiling vacantly under the Winter sun.

The End