by Jane
Stalin, Hitler, or Mao? They say the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn’t exist. I’m not so sure about that. Maybe the greater trick was telling each religion that it had the one true path, the only correct set of laws and morals, and then throwing them all together on a giant ball to duke it out for eternity. How much will they be amazed when they realize they have all been praying to the same god, and that he doesn’t really care.
A chuckle escapes my lips as I nod off to get more rest. I shake my head from side to side as my mind telescopes out from this big, blue marble, out further and further past his house, one of many, to a bag of marbles, rattling around, and a collection of figures, perched on thrones, drifting in clouds and bellowing from on high. This evolution will never take place with such closed-minded thinking, but maybe I can be the one, the tipping point, spontaneous consciousness. One with all.
5. GORDON
Whatever the hell that was, it doesn’t matter. If he thinks he’s going to get off that easy, well, then he’s forgotten the face of his father. The sun is just rising over the squat hut that shields me with darkness. Shadows pass in front of the door and a man comes back in. I close my eyes. Not Zeke.
As the man leans over me he raises a stethoscope and presses it to my chest and nods. He places his hand on my forehead. Leaning over further he pries my eyelids open and that is when I make my move. Slamming my head forward with as much strength as I can muster his nose flattens like a pile of mashed potatoes. Blood shoots out and he falls forward onto my chest with an empty grunt and topples to the ground.
Still restrained I focused my energy on my arms, my wrists, my hands. Channeling every ounce of anger I have towards the canvas restraints, they start to give, releasing my trembling arms with a quiet tear. Sitting up I unbuckle my leg restraints and swing around. Placing two fingers on the back of his neck I check for a pulse. Nothing. It happens. One in ten shot. The cartilage must have shot straight up into his brain. Instantaneous. Not ideal for my current situation but I can deal with it.
Grabbing the man in the lab coat, I pull off his jacket and undress him quickly. I was lucky. We were about the same size. Stripping out of my clothes, I dress him and lay him down in the cot. Covering him up with a blanket, you can’t tell who it is until you get up close. Wiping the blood from his face with an old tshirt, I quickly put on his clothes, grab the clipboard from the end of the cot, and head out into the dim dawn. It’s quiet and there is nobody moving for as far as I can see. Walking at a fast pace, but not so fast as to arouse suspicion, I head for Zeke’s. Two buildings down and one over, by my calculation. I have to move fast before the entire compound wakes up.
“Hey Doc, what’s the prognosis?” I hear from behind me. Zeke. I pretend not to hear him, reaching back and scratching my head, glancing around as if half deaf, searching for a noise. I dart around the corner into a tight alley between two buildings.
“Doc, hey wait, hold on!” he shouts, and I can hear the footsteps moving fast, and I wait for the tap on my shoulder. Waiting...waiting...there it is.
“Doc, hold on...” he starts.
I spin around, grabbing ahold of his wrist twisting it up and back. Pressing his wrist down, it snaps as his eyes open wide in shock and then disgust. He tries to resist but it’s futile as I pull his arm behind his back and shove it up with all I have, breaking it. As a scream starts to escape his mouth I grab his head as his body falls, and twist it sharply to the right. Silenced now, his neck pops once, loud and distinct and his arms go limp as he falls to the dirt. For good measure I kick him in the ribs. For the mop, for the drugs, for the bruises on my ribs, for the doubt, for the challenge. One kick for each indiscretion, ribs cracking as I go. It takes all the restraint I have not to pummel his skull into a bloody stump, but I have no time, and no other clothes to change into. Searching around for a place to hide him, I spy a huge dumpster behind building 12. Probably for the whole barrack. I grab him by the feet and pull him towards it. I raise the lid and prop it against the wall. Picking him up, I roll his body into the void and with a dull thud he is gone. Gently I close the lid, flashing on a moment in time not too long ago.
Glancing back down the alley I see flashing lights, as a police car slows to a halt. Two men climb out of the black and white and head my way. Shaking my head the vision is gone.
6. ASSIGNED
//system wide solar check
alpha
godhead: intact
spherical entities:
habitable
-
one
inhabitable
-
seven
Beta
godhead: dissolved
spherical entities:
habitable
-
none
inhabitable
-
four
gamma
godhead: intact, plurality
spherical entities:
habitable
-
six
inhabitable
-
six
imploding
-
one
Delta
godhead: intact, fallible
spherical entities:
habitable
-
one
inhabitable
-
six
omega
godhead: absent
spherical entities:
habitable
-
none
inhabitable
-
none
implosion
complete
system void
//system wide solar check end
end
//gordon
downloading.................................
....................................complete
manifest x 213
compound
map
building
summation
food
sources
roadways
water
lifeforms
citizens
employees
management
deities
assignment
1.........................complete
2..............complete
3................................incomple
te
4........................................
..............incomplete
5........................................
.......incomplete
6........................................
............................................
...................incomplete
7.....complete
discontinuation:
2
//end
7. ROLAND
I’d fallen back asleep. I was so tired. Looking around the jungle, I’m alone. Something gnawed at my brain, a memory, but I can’t call it forward. Who had I been talking to? Mom?
What was going on. Was it a dream?
I stand up and brush the leaves and dirt off of me. Grabbing my bag I head down river. Now I remember. I was leaving. Running away. Right. Fuck them all.
In the distance gunshots echo through the early morning.
“What the hell is that?”
An engine revs and tires spin. A car. There’s a car! My way out. I run up the hill away from the creek, dodging in and out of trees, branches swatting at my face. Glass shatters as the car spins its wheels in gravel and a flash of red flies by me up the hill.
“Damnit,” I yell.
Running faster, pumping my legs and flailing my arms, to the top of the hill I crest it too late. The car is gone, flying down the gravel and onto the paved road, turning right. Turn signal even. How courteous. Sweat pours over me, and the in
sects come after me with a renewed energy. I stop and stare down the road where the mirage disappeared. A red Mustang. Out of breath, I pound my leg with my fist. What now.
“Hey, you...” a voice shouts to my left. I look back down the road at two tall men holding shotguns.
“Shit,” I murmur, and back down the hill I go. Certainly getting my exercise today. I have to find a place to hide. The caves. They’re close and if I can get over the next hill and into them before they see where I went, maybe I have a chance.
A quick glance behind me reveals nothing so I barrel towards the creek, searching for the narrowest stream. Running as fast as I can I leap over the water, landing short with a splash, drenching myself, losing my balance, falling over and then I’m through and up the hill. Over it and around the giant twin-oak and the cave is just ahead. A brown blur to my right and something is running with me. Something small, but fast. Up to the mouth of the cave I barrel into the darkness and slow down as I head towards the back. The voices are close so I jog further back. Passing under an iron archway there is a blast of static, a pulse of light, and it’s all gone.
The cave is silent, the only remnant some electrical residue and a wisp of smoke. A blur of chipmunk flies into the cave and pauses at the arch. It sits up and wrinkles its nose, pawing at its face. Twitching, it eases forward and stops. Boots stomp up the hill and Raymond leaps.
CHAPTER EIGHT
May 13, 2024
1. JACOB
Barreling down the broken road adrenaline courses through my body. The windows are rolled down. If I’m going out in a blaze of glory, I’m at least going to enjoy the ride. The towers won’t be upon me for a couple of minutes so I have very little time to contemplate my life so far. Or all of eternity. Flying past the various fields of workers is a priceless moment. Most are just getting to the crops, just starting to pick the corn, and harvest the beans. And I come flying along in a shiny red Mustang. They must be flipping their lids. A broad laugh busts free and it is the single most pure and unrestricted moment I’ve had in years. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes. I tell myself it’s the wind in my face.
I will miss this place. Believe it or not. It has been a bizarre existence for sure, but how can you not appreciate the majestic beauty of a tropical island, even while playing the part of an under appreciated bookstore owner in on off-off-off-offbroadway play. Minus the applause. It seemed like such a great idea when I signed up for the program. So much better than life in a concrete box. And in the beginning it worked. On many levels. People were rehabilitated. People were set free. People decided to stay, and stop resisting, and move on with their lives in this modern day Australia. It wasn’t that bad. But something changed. And I don’t know what or when or why. One day, I had my books and my customers and a simple life to enjoy. The next it all slipped away and dissolved into bloodied bodies amassed in the darkness, young girls raped as we stood and stared, all manner of order bleeding into chaos. And there was nothing we could do about it. I couldn’t even find the damn hole so how could I plug the leak?
A high pitched whine and a metal thunk. Tink, tink, tink from the right side of the car. I glance around but don’t find the source of the noise. At the horizon I spy it, a tower. It’s new. I thought I had more time. I’ve been fired upon and my baby has new holes in her. I try to swerve from one lane to another but it doesn’t do much good. Any second now my head will explode and it will all be over. I accelerate as much as I dare, up to 50
mph now, the grass and wind gusting past me. Up ahead I finally see the gates. Two towers flank the road and dots of black silhouettes litter the ground. Men kneeling and standing in the towers. Why did I think this would work?
A gust of heat from behind the car and as the barricades and structures race towards me a blur of sulphur hits the men and the black canvas figures drop to the ground. The only sound is the racing of the engine and the hot air pushing around me. There is no time to slow or stop so I crash through the flimsy wooden gates, striped boards flying everywhere as I shoot past them all. Not a single wound, my windshield is intact, and I’m still breathing. The standoff is a no show and as I fly past the men, everything slows down. I turn my head and watch them try to stand up, trying to grab the weapons as they fall repeatedly from their fingers. I’ve had help here, I think.
I ease off the gas a bit. No need to flip the car the minute I make it out. It won’t be too far to the water’s edge, if my calculations and daily telescoping is accurate at all. A smile creeps across my face as my body cools, the sweat evaporating from my neck in the gush of wind.
A flash of light triggers behind my eyes and an electrical shock runs through my frame as my head snaps back and my body jolts. Teeth clench as my legs shoot out and my chest rises. I stiffen under the pulse. Urine shoots down my legs and I flop forward, limp and useless now as the car slows down and rolls onto the shoulder. Dirt and gravel crunches under the tires and my beautiful baby drifts into the high grasses, thumping to a halt over the undulating earth. Smoke drifts out of my ears in gray wisps as my head lies on the steering wheel and the silent countryside eyes me with wary speculation.
2. MARCY
Freshly showered and smelling of baby powder and bourbon, I set out to find Roland. My head is spinning at the possible fallout, the repercussions that could come my way if he’s hurt or opens his mouth when he finds out what is going on. Standing in the blazing sun in my standard what-to-wear-when-in-hell hotware of shorts and a tank top, I pause to survey the bustling metropolis that is our humble existence. The illusion still holds in places, but for whom, I wonder. Most don’t want to know what’s going on, they simply want to be told what to do and where to do it. And that’s okay with me. We need a lot of worker bees to survive here, even if they won’t be around for much longer. The mainland is one thing, but we are not immune here. Well, most of us aren’t. I brush imaginary crumbs off the beige ribbed tank top, and smooth down my earthy shorts. My boots are laced up and my sunglasses are a wall to hide behind. A deep breath and I’m off.
Caves, river, highway, caves. Caves I think. I can kill two birds with one stone.
There is a little known path that starts just east of the river. Well, creek I should call it. Maybe it was once a river, but not anymore. The drought has taken care of that. The medicinal pine scent is my only protection and I head into the weeds to find my boy.
My mind is empty and yet overloaded. I try not to think of everything that has happened in the last couple of days. The last couple of weeks. Everything back to my time on the mainland. None of it seems real. It’s somebody else’s life. Before I know it I’m at the caves, the walk over a hazy blur of eager tree branches and whispering grass. Standing in the opening I stare at the arch. The ornate border of writhing bodies and mathematics stares back at me with a quiet strength.
“That’s new,” I mumble.
A dull red orb glows down from the epicenter of the curve. Before I can get a good look at it there is the rustle of overgrowth and the clearing of a throat from behind me. I spin around to see three men standing in front of me.
“Hey Marcy,” the tall, skinny one in front says.
“Uh...hey. What are you guys doing here?”
They glance at each other. Three dirty frat boys with stubble on their faces stand at the mouth of the cave, stuffed into their tan jumpsuits. Corn huskers, far from the fields.
“Shouldn’t you be out in the fields boys?”
“Uh, sure Marcy. We should be. But we saw you walking over here and wanted to make sure that you were okay,” skinny says, edging forward into the cave. His eyes are locked on mine, but slowly, as if given permission, they cruise up and down my body, soaking me up like a sponge.
“I’m okay guys, but thanks for checking up on me.”
I move my left leg slightly forward and shift the weight of my body to my back foot. I smile at them like a Sunday morning preacher bestowing wisdom to his lost flock. My hands turn to fist
s. I’ve been here before.
The two men behind him move forward nodding their heads, looking me up and down with no hesitation or shame. I imagine it’s been awhile for these guys.
“So...Caleb,” I say, squinting as I lean in to read his name off the name stenciled over his chest. “Why don’t you and...Nik over there, and your pudgy friend Christopher head on back to the corn you should be shucking, and I’ll just say thanks for your concern.”
“Well Marcy, that’d be nice and all, but you see, we’re kinda sick of being grunts around here. We don’t get any respect and we sure as hell don’t get a shower in our huts...” a flush of color drifts over me, as I wonder how long they’ve been watching me, and what exactly they’ve seen. “So we were thinking maybe you could do something for us. You know, since you’re always walking around all hot to trot and ready to go.”
They all creep forward a step thinking this is going to be the best day of their lives. A friendly little gang-bang between us buddies. A hot piece of ass.
“Oh, I see where you’re going with this,” I smile. “Well, finally somebody acts like a man and tracks down little old Marcy to give her what she wants. Come here Caleb, and give me a little kiss. I assume you want to be first, no sloppy seconds for you right? The man in charge?”
Grinning like a child on Christmas morning he walks forward rubbing his hands tentatively, licking his lips. He runs a hand through his stringy brown hair and sidles up to me. Leaning over with his mouth parted ever so slightly, his eyes drifting shut, he never sees it coming. It’s over in a flash.
A knee to the groin and he doubles over. I grab his head and wrench it to the right. It snaps, his eyes popping open as he crumples to the floor. His lecherous friends are an arms length away and I grab the tall one by his lapel and head butt his nose, breaking it instantly, blood shooting down his chest. With all of my focus and rage I summon the jiu kumite and with one punch to his chest, stop his heart. My grunt and scream fills the cave as I drop him like a sack of potatoes. The last one stands there staring at me as his pant legs fill with urine. His lips mumble as if he wants to say something but I will not hear it. A flurry of fists to his face and his body rocks back but stays up despite his eyes rolling up into his head. Before he can collapse I grab his sweaty head and pull it down to my uprising knee, driving his nose and what’s left of it up into his skull. If he isn’t dead, he’s certainly close.