The Dystopian Gene

by S. E. Meyer

Steven lowered his head. “I'm sorry, honey. I didn't even bother to notice,” he said, peering through the entryway to the kitchen. “Wow. You have been busy.”

  There was an unexpected pounding on the front door.

  “Who in hell could that be?” Steven grumbled.

  He swung the door wide to find Wesley standing in front of him. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Wesley. I‘m a friend of Anna‘s. Listen, I need you and your family to pack a bag. I‘m with city security. Mr. Morton, I presume?”

  “City security?” Steven echoed. “Are we in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, sir. But you're not safe.”

  “Is Anna in trouble?”

  “Not exactly, Sir. I need you to pack and be outside in ten minutes.”

  “What? I can't do that. I have to get to work and...”

  “Sir, you have to come with me, by force, if necessary.”

  Steven stared Wesley down, wary of a stranger barging in and spewing demands “I don't understand. If there’s no trouble then why do we have to leave?”

  Wesley took a step closer while maintaining eye contact. He pressed his lips together. “Mr. Morton, I don't think you would understand, even if I could explain it to you, but you are caught in a web, and the spider is on its way.”

  ◆◆◆

  Cornelius Cromwell pulled on his headset, settling into the Chamber bed.. “Chamber, load Damarion file sixty-five.”

  The scene showed Damarion walking on the west side of the city. Tall office buildings and apartments stretched away from him on either side.

  “Come on now, Damarion,” Cornelius whispered. “You spent months in here. You let your guard down at some point. Show me where they're hiding.”

  The scene changed and Cornelius followed Damarion into a small cafe. Damarion ordered a coffee and then exited the coffee shop. He turned left and walked down a familiar street.

  “Damn,” Cornelius whispered, exasperated with the dreadful boredom of Damarion's life. “He's going back to the office again. All this man does is go from home to work and back again.”

  Cornelius watched Damarion's day drag out at work. He hated every grueling tick of the clock, but he had to go back through every minute, every second, if he was to find something. A moment of weakness.

  He followed Damarion back out into the street. Out of habit, Cornelius turned right, expecting Damarion to head back to his apartment, but this time he turned left.

  “This is different.”

  He followed Damarion to his parking garage and watched him get into his car. Cornelius got into the back seat, licking his lips.

  Damarion pulled out into traffic and headed for the opposite side of town.

  He's heading towards the warehouse district.

  Damarion parked the car and dropped his phone on the front seat. He wrapped a scarf around his face and exited the vehicle.

  Cornelius rubbed his hands together. “This has to be it,” he said, following Damarion down the street away from the car.

  Finally.

  The scene turned black.

  Cornelius and Damarion were now standing in a prison cell. “No, I won't do it. I won't allow him to find them,” Damarion whispered, shaking his head.

  “Chamber exit!” Cornelius yelled. He threw his headset against the wall and rose from the bed. ”Hours, no, I've spent days in here, not getting anywhere!”

  Cornelius climbed the steps and entered the main ballroom.

  At least I know what section of the city they're in. I will need help.

  “Ratings?” he hollered, glancing at the wall of computer screens along one side of the ballroom.

  “Close race, Sir. Your opponent is out ahead right now blaming you for the recent terror attacks on the city.”

  “Yes, but we have the Shepherd,” Cornelius grinned.

  “Forty-five percent of the citizens are talking about the attacks. Of those, twenty percent agree it's your fault.”

  “And what are we doing about that?”

  “We're on it, targeting those twenty percent with twenty different news articles, released this morning. We're also releasing another fifty breaking news reports over the course of the week to change the news cycle and bring you back into a good light.”

  “Excellent, I'll be in my study.”

  Cornelius left the room and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen and lifted it to his ear.

  “Please hold for the President.”

  “Cromwell? I'm surprised you're calling me.”

  “Yes, well, I have a situation here. I need boots on the ground. Two hundred soldiers should do.”

  There was a long pause before the President replied. “I never thought I would see the day when the great Cornelius Cromwell asks me for help.”

  “This is important, trust me.”

  “Trust you? After trolling my name through the mud? I don't think so. Why should I help you? This pro quo is missing a quid.”

  “I'll offer you all of my resources, including my campaign manager on your next election.”

  “You're offering me The Shepherd and Candice Cross? This must be important.”

  There was another long pause. “I can spare fifty men. I'll send them right away.”

  An alarm sounded from a corner of the ballroom as Cornelius ended the call.

  James jogged into the study. “We found her!”

  Cornelius smiled. “I can only presume you mean Miss Wool?” He left his study, entering the main ballroom. “Put in on the screen.”

  The large monitor to Cornelius's left illuminated, displaying a drone camera feed.

  “Where is she?” Cornelius asked.

  James moved next to Cornelius. “North quadrant. Close to the perimeter fence.”

  “Get closer.”

  The drone neared the tree, and the video showed Anna sleeping between two trunks.

  Cornelius smiled. “There you are. Now, what are you up to?”

  James turned. “Should we take care of it now? The drone is within striking distance.”

  Cornelius lowered his eyebrows. “No.”

  “No? Are you sure, Sir?”

  “Never question my orders. The drones left equipped with the implants, correct?”

  James nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Tag her. Tag her and take her supplies.”

  One drone produced a small blade while another extended a clamp and grasped the rope attached to Anna's pack of supplies. The first drone cut the rope while the second flew away with Anna's bag. The drone with the camera feed moved in close, buzzing within feet of her head. A telescoping rod stretched out within an inch of her skin, releasing a needle before stabbing her in the neck.

  “Now get it out of there, quick.”

  With eyes closed, Anna slapped the back of her neck. “Damn flies.”

  The drone made a hasty retreat, disappearing into the air.

  Cornelius rubbed his hands together. “Let's see where this goes,” he said, leaning towards the screen. “Your move Miss Wool.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Anna jolted awake, nearly falling from the tree. She shifted her weight, fighting the cramp in her back and aching neck while rubbing her eyes. Anna checked the fence, looking for Atticus as her stomach growled.

  I need to eat something.

  She glanced at the limb where she hung her pack.

  Anna sat frozen with widened eyes.

  I know I tied it off.

  She scratched her head, staring at the empty branch before scanning the area below. There was no debris, no evidence of an animal ransacking her supplies.

  She lowered her hand, touching the back of her neck.

  Anna winced, feeling a small swollen area.

  “That's a hell of a bite.”

  She shook her head, staring at the empty place where she tied her supplies.

  I don't understand; she thought while untying the rope around her waist.

  Anna climbed down from the tree and
walked around it several times looking for any sign.

  “This makes no sense,” she whispered.

  Okay, keep your head on straight. Adapt and overcome.

  Anna checked her pockets, producing the knife and lighter.

  A knife, a lighter and a piece of rope.

  Anna felt inside her jacket and ran her fingers over the handle of her gun.

  “Well, that's a start.”

  She coiled the rope and slung in over her shoulder and headed towards the fence.

  “I have to find water.”

  Her stomach growled again.

  “And something to eat.”

  Anna crept to the fence, emerging from the thick forest and out into the morning sunlight. She scanned each direction, peering as far as she could see. Nothing. No one, no movement, and no Atticus.

  With only the river behind her, Anna decided to head east, keeping the fence on her right from a safe distance while hugging the line of trees on her left. She stopped where she previously encountered the wolf and picked up a stick before carving her initials into the ground.

  At least he'll know I made it here if I miss him while I'm gone.

  Anna continued heading east while keeping her eye on the fence.

  “Where the hell are you?” she said.

  After a couple hours of trudging along, avoiding low branches and stepping around pockets of brambles Anna came to a swamp.

  She stood, staring at the sloppy mess of moss and standing water in front of her. She couldn't go over the fence, leaving the only obvious choice; head North and go around.

  After marching an hour north, the trees thinned and Anna stopped short of a clearing. Under cover of the thick brush, she scanned the area for any sign of movement as her gaze landed on something out of place.

  Anna lowered her eyebrows.

  What the hell is that?

  There were ropes attached to a crate that ran to one side and stopped at what looked to Anna like a tarp. She advanced, staying on the edge of the clearing. As she neared the crate, she could see it was open on one end.

  Anna's jaw slacked.

  “What the hell?” she said, staring at cases of food. Someone had ripped several of the boxes open and Anna could see the products they held. Dry goods. Pre-packaged energy bars and snack foods. A large box of MRE's sat just inside the opening next to cases of water.

  Anna moved closer and could now see what had appeared to be a tarp was a parachute, fluttering in the breeze.

  There's enough food and water here for weeks. Maybe months.

  Anna's heart skipped while her saliva glands labored.

  But what is it doing here?

  She shook her head.

  Could be a trap.

  But I have to at least get some water, she argued.

  Anna stepped out into the clearing and moved toward the crate when Shadow appeared in front of her.

  “Shadow. What are you doing here?”

  The wolf snarled, baring its teeth.

  Anna took another step closer.

  Shadow jumped, snapping at her legs. Anna retreated, clutching her chest.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Shadow stood, staring at her.

  Anna tried to step around and Shadow lurched forward, this time nipping her ankle.

  “Stop it!” Anna yelled.

  “I saved you, remember? This is the thanks I get?”

  Anna moved toward the crate a third time and Shadow bit her calf.

  “Ow. You ungrateful little tramp!” she said, rubbing the back of her right leg above her ankle.. It was a gentle bite, not hard enough to puncture skin, but firm enough to bruise.

  Anna let out a breath, shaking her head.

  “What am I supposed to do then, starve?”

  Her stomach grumbled and Shadow cocked his head.

  “Ugh.” Anna stamped her foot at Shadow. “You're unbelievable.”

  She returned to the clearing‘s edge with Shadow trailing a few feet behind.

  “Leave me alone,” Anna called over her shoulder.

  Shadow paced her, keeping himself between her and the crate of food.

  Disgusted, Anna continued East.

  I guess I’ll have to forage.

  “Stupid animal,” Anna growled along with her stomach.

  She only had to go a few hundred yards before she came to a road. There was a strong gate set across it, attached to the fence on both sides. Anna could only assume this was the northern drop point for convicts banished from the city.

  Anna backed away and headed north, keeping the road to her right, but staying out of sight. She continued through the overgrowth for an hour before she came to another clearing, fenced with old split rail. Off in the distance she noticed a barn.

  An old pasture. Good place to find mushrooms along the fence line.

  Anna walked along the fence between the pasture and the treeline, looking for mushrooms. She tried to recall her survival training and what varieties of mushrooms grew into late fall.

  Chantrell mushrooms are dried up and gone. If there is any Dryad Saddle, it'll be tough as nails. Might still be some chicken of the woods around as long as the animals haven't eaten them all.

  Anna shook her head. It will be hard to identify anything else with certainty without a field guide.

  She let out a breath. Or the internet.

  She came to a place with several dead, rotting trees at a point where the pasture veered west.

  This looks like a good place.

  Anna scanned the ground around her and stopped. On the edge of the pasture below the rotting split rail was a large area filled with mushrooms. She bent over to get a closer look before picking one from the ground. She rolled it over inspecting its cap and stem.

  Hmm, could be an edible mushroom. Gills or pores?

  “Or was it ridges?” Anna said.

  “Or was it ridges on the stem and pores below the fruiting cap?”

  No, I'm almost positive it's not a polypore. It's a gilled mushroom.

  Anna's growling stomach turned into pangs.

  “Damn it. If I wasn't so hungry I could think straight.”

  Anna collected the mushrooms, making a pocket with her shirt and filling it inside her jacket.

  Her intuition told her something was wrong about them, but her stomach won the battle of reasoning with her gut.

  As she strolled along the fence Anna gained a new vantage point towards the other side of the pasture. A small farmhouse became visible, nestled in trees on the other side of the barn. Anna made her way for the shelter, hoping to find something to go with her meal, and get out of the wind.

  She entered the house with gun drawn in one hand, holding her mushroom filled shirt with the other. After looking through all the cabinets and cupboards with increasing frustration, the only things Anna collected was dust and cobwebs.

  “Not even a can of carrots or ravioli?” she said.

  Nothing.

  There was an old cook stove centered on one wall of the kitchen.

  Anna crept back outside to find sticks, knowing she would have to cook the mushrooms before eating them since all wild mushrooms have toxins that break down with heat.

  While looking for sticks, Anna found a patch of wild onions.

  “These will go perfectly with the mushrooms,” she said, pulling them from the ground while swallowing the abundance of saliva in her mouth.

  Anna headed back into the farmhouse and lit a fire in the cook stove.

  Needs to be a hot fire.

  Anna recalled her survival training, adding small dry sticks, going up in size over time to avoid excessive smoke.

  “Don't want to alert anyone that I'm here. Certainly not the crazies.”

  With the fire burning, Anna went back outside to find water. She rounded the corner of the farmhouse, almost tripping on a hand pump.

  Could I be that lucky?

  Anna pulled on the handle and it slid freely. She pumped the handle se
veral times, building pressure while clenching her jaw.

  Please, I need a break here.

  A trickle of rusty sludge erupted from the hand pump.

  Anna wrinkled her nose.

  She continued pumping and a stream of water appeared, clearing as it flowed.

  Thank God.

  Anna jogged back into the house and retrieved a bowl. She took long steady drinks of the cold, refreshing water before washing the mushrooms. She rolled them in the bowl, noticing a blue tinge where bruised.

  Anna pulled out her pocketknife and prepared the onions and mushrooms before throwing them into the hot pan on the stove.

  What I wouldn't do for a little oil.

  She rummaged through the kitchen‘s pantry, searching each bare shelf before finding a salt shaker.

  That'll have to do.

  Anna tore off the lid and crumbled a few bits of the salt lumps over the pan as her saliva glands went into overdrive.

  They could be poisonous, Anna‘s gut argued.

  She looked out the window to find Shadow in the backyard, staring at her with unblinking eyes.

  Shadow.

  “Well, it's your fault if I get sick. You're the one who wouldn't let me eat the food out there. All the food. More food than I could eat, but no. You were being an asshole about it.”

  Anna threw her hands in the air.

  “And Atticus be damned! Where the hell is he? He's the one who wanted me to come out here and he can't even show up? What am I supposed to do? I can't swim back, upstream, and I can't wait around forever.”

  Anna swallowed as her stomach growled loud enough for Shadow to cock his head.

  “To hell with it! And to hell with you,” she said glaring at the wolf. “I'm starving and this smells so delicious. What's the worst that could happen?”

  Anna tore into the pan of food, not stopping until it she ate it all. She leaned back in the wooden kitchen chair and rubbed her belly, feeling better to have filled it. She got up and walked around the kitchen, looking for anything useful.

  Anna rubbed her stomach, a sudden nausea creeping up her throat.

  Wavy cap. Turns blue when bruised. Gills.

  “Oh, no.”

  Anna covered her mouth.

  Anna, you're an idiot. You just ate a massive dose of Psilocybin.

  “But I was sure,” she whispered.

  You must be one-hundred percent sure with wild mushrooms, she argued with herself.