by Kip Nelson
It only had been a few hours since the world ended and already it was a miserable existence. Adam never had been as paranoid as this. Everything was scaring him, not least the fact that if he couldn't find any food, then he would die anyway. There were other people like him, rationally he had to accept that, but he was reminded of his first weekend at college. They had planned a mixer where everyone was given a chance to get to know each other. Yet, it seemed to Adam that everyone already had sectioned themselves away in groups and he was left to try working his way in. It was the same now. If he had stayed with the crowd, then perhaps he would have found a group to splinter off into. Although given what he saw, it was more likely he would have been trampled or beaten to death.
He was walking through familiar streets, and yet they seemed so alien in their desolation, as though it hadn't just been hours since all the electronics had gone out. It was almost as if he had awoken after a thousand-year sleep and he was walking through a city that had fallen centuries ago, now turned into ruins. Empty cars lined the streets. The store signs that usually blinked neon were asleep. Would they ever be turned on again? Would there ever be a time when humanity would get back to the point at which all had been lost? Since Adam didn't know the exact cause of the disaster he couldn't say for sure, but given the things he had researched for his game it had all the signs of an EMP, an electromagnetic pulse.
He could imagine people still would be trying in vain to reach their loved ones through their cell phones and lamenting all that had been lost on the digital network. So much of their lives – of his life – had been filtered through electronic cables, and now it was as though they never had existed. Being a man of the future, a man of technology, he had ported all of his important information into the cloud. Everything was linked to his various social media accounts, and now all that had vanished. He stared up at the windows of buildings and wondered if anyone was in there, looking down at him, afraid that he was mad, scared that he would threaten their lives. He was tempted to cry up at them and tell them he was innocent, that he was harmless, but instead he said nothing. There were times when he heard footsteps in the distance. Any time he did, he ducked into a doorway, and waited for his heart to stop racing.
He smiled with grim amusement as he walked past an electronics store that had its window smashed in. People evidently had looted the place, not realizing that televisions were worthless. In fact, most of the things people owned were worthless, including money. There was going to be a dramatic shift in society. As he thought about this, Adam dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a dollar bill. When he was younger his father always used to tell him that as long as he had a dollar in his pocket there was always hope. Adam's parents had worked all their lives to try giving him the best chance, but now everyone's hard work was for nothing. They were plunged back into the dark ages and everyone was out for themselves.
After a while of morbidly wandering through the streets Adam started to get the courage to go into stores and look around. It was clear many of them had been looted, and he wasn't sure where the actual owners were. If they had any sense, they would have cleared out long ago, he thought to himself. He managed to find a store that had plenty of water and food inside. At first, he pulled open a bottle and guzzled down the liquid, that, despite being warm, still was a relief to his aching throat. He hadn't actually realized just how thirsty he had been. But he drank too quickly and soon felt sick. So, he slowed down, breathed, and took a look at the food.
There were plenty of packets and canned foods. He wished he had a way to carry it all, because they all would come in handy. He started perusing the canned goods and shoved a couple in his pocket before realizing he didn't have a can opener and until he got one they just would be deadweight. Although, he thought while holding one in his hand, they might make for a decent weapon. He worked quickly, knowing that anyone else could come into the store at any moment. At one point, he heard people outside. He ducked down behind a shelf, hoping they wouldn't come in. He peered through a gap in the shelf and saw a large group of people arguing about whether to go in. They seemed to be going in the same direction as he just had come, so he figured they were trying to make it to city hall, too. He hoped that would be true of many people, that while he was moving away from the city they all would be moving toward it. He could use the snaking side streets and obscure paths to hide from everything.
Adam was glad when the group decided not to enter the shop and carried on their way. Although he stayed frozen in place for a while, just in case they changed their minds.
He avoided the food that had to be cooked since that would prove difficult, and shoved some packets of potato chips, chocolate, and fruit into any pocket he could find. He looked for a bag, but couldn't find any, until he thought to look behind the counter and grabbed a brown bag. Nobody had taken those yet, and there was an abundance of them. He loaded up the bag and left the store, an apple crunching between his teeth. The juice of the fruit was a welcome relief. It only had been hours since he had been plunged into this despair, yet he was feeling the strain already, the pressure of having to find food. It wasn't just as simple as going to the fridge for a snack anymore, or picking up the phone and dialing for take-out. Now he was a hunter and had to compete with everyone for the scraps of food left in the city. It dawned on him that at some point he would have to forage for food and cook his own meals, perhaps even kill an animal. He'd never done that before. He'd never considered himself a violent person, always preferring to think of peace and harmony rather than death. Although he hadn't been a vegetarian, the thought of killing a harmless animal was anathema to him.
Maybe he was just a coward.
All the while he walked through the streets of the city, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Whenever he heard people nearby, he ran to safety and cowered in hiding. He also made sure to try going to places that were going to be less busy, figuring people were likely to go to places such as city hall and the hospital, places where they may find hope. However, for Adam anything was dangerous and he would run away at the slightest sign of trouble. He thought about what he should do, whether he should get more food to carry with him, but he didn't want to lug around a load of extra weight, even though it could be necessary. He also had no idea where he was going next, no direction at all. At least when he was in the crowd they had the idea to go to city hall and try taking things step by step, but that hadn't worked out. Now Adam was just wandering around the city aimlessly, without direction.
There was a hole in his heart that was borne from a lack of purpose. For a long time in his youth he had felt unsettled as he hadn't known his place in the universe, and felt uneasy because of it. Everyone else seemed to have it figured out, and knew exactly what they were doing, unlike Adam. Only when he had lucked his way into being a video game designer had he felt comfortable in life, as though he was doing what he was supposed to be doing, fulfilling his existential purpose. But now there was nothing like that for him. His mission was simply to survive, but somehow that didn't seem like enough.
There was a philosophy in gaming that the player never should have too much choice, and that they should be presented with a few options to give the illusion of total freedom, when in reality, they still were being guided along the path the designer laid out for them. He liked to think the same was true in life, but in this world, there was complete freedom. There was no authority to tell him what he could and couldn't do, and that freedom was suffocating. He was feeling the pressure on his lungs and had to force himself to breathe deeply so he didn't hyperventilate.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't see them until it was too late. There were three of them. Big men. Strong men. Men with snarling lips and bulging biceps. Men who were hard in the old world and dangerous in this one. They strode forward as though they knew exactly what they were doing, as though they had it all figured out. They were the kind of men who knew what they were doing in any circumstance. By the time A
dam saw them it was too late for him to avoid them. He couldn't simply duck into an alley, and he didn't want to run because he wasn't the athletic sort and their powerful legs would have carried their bulky bodies much faster than his spindly legs would have carried himself. His only hope was that appearances were deceiving and his own paranoia had gotten the better of him. He tried to remind himself that people were good and in this world, they all could stick together.
Those thoughts departed his mind quickly.
The three men sauntered up to him and quickly identified the food he was carrying. Adam's throat ran dry and he swallowed uncomfortably.
“Hello, friend,” one of them men said, “you're looking lost. Do you know where you're going?”
“Uh, yeah, I'm just wandering around. Do you?” Adam replied.
“Oh, we know exactly where we're going. Don't we, boys?”
“We sure do,” another one of them said, and all three of them chuckled threateningly.
Adam felt his skin tingle and fear ran down his spine. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His mind was cast back to high school when he was at the mercy of strong bullies. He thought he had escaped that kind of life, but now he was back in a world where might makes right.
“That's good then,” he said, and tried to bow his head and push between them, but two of them brought their broad shoulders together and blocked his path. Adam's head sank. He knew exactly what kind of game this was. He had played it many times before. It was a game he always lost.
“Why are you in such a hurry? You know it's not a good thing to be out on your own now that everything has gone to shit. There are a lot of dangers out here,” the man who seemed to be the leader said, winking to his companions, who were finding a great deal of amusement in the entire situation.
“Yeah, a lot of dangers,” another man snorted.
“What have you got there?” the leader asked. Adam looked down at his hand at the food he was holding.
“Just a few bits and pieces I picked up from a store back there. There still was a fair bit left, I'm sure you could find some in there,” he said, tossing his head over his shoulder in the direction from whence he came.
“Maybe we'll hit that up. It is harder to find food now. I mean, I'm not finding it as hard to adjust as I'm sure some people are. Frankly I'm thinking this could turn out to be some kind of paradise. There are so many things we don't need to worry about anymore...like cops.”
The three men circled Adam menacingly. The man to his right clutched the food in his hand and tore it away. Adam gulped again and felt his heart race. His gaze fell to the ground and he wished he was stronger, wished he was braver, wished he was so many different things. He saw the food and limply whimpered.
“What's wrong? Did you have something you wanted to say?” the leader said.
“I'd just appreciate it if you could give me my food back,” Adam said meekly, already knowing it was futile.
“It's not strictly your food, is it? You took this from a store, and now I'm taking it from you. We're growing lads, we need all the food we can get! You look as though you could lose a few pounds. So, really, we're doing you a favor,” he said, poking a finger sharply into Adam's belly, digging into the soft flesh and sending a hard shooting pain through his body, almost making him double-over.
“You should be glad that's all we're taking,” the leader said, leaning into Adam and growling in his ear.
Adam cowered and thought for sure they were going to attack him. But they quickly sauntered away again as if the whole episode had meant nothing to them, as though Adam had meant nothing. He probably didn't. Those bullies fed on fear and they had had a feast of it from Adam. He looked down at his empty hands and had to pretend there wasn't a hollow rumbling in his stomach. He would need to find food elsewhere, and then thought that it was a good thing he hadn't been carrying more because it all would have been stolen from him anyway. He wondered how many more people such as those men were lurking in the streets, how many were going to rise to power now that fear and violence were valuable currencies. Those men cared nothing for the rules, and they would terrorize other people as well. Adam was overwhelmed with a feeling that he should have done more to stop them. Once again, he found himself drowning in self-loathing. He knew he wasn't brave enough for this new world, and it seemed to be just a matter of time before his stamina ran out.
His feet shuffled along the ground, not going in any particular direction. He had nowhere to go. His heart was filled with melancholy and dark thoughts were swirling around in his mind. He was forced to admit to himself he never quite had come to terms with the world when it had been safe and he had had all the opportunities he wanted. How was he going to cope with this? He used to have his own routine, and had carved out his own little corner of the world where he knew what he was doing and how he was going to go about doing it. Now everything was open to him, and there was nowhere to hide. He was on his own for real this time, and his life depended on his own skill.
He thought about everyone he had known and everyone he had seen in the dawn of this chaos, how so many of them would be looking for their loved ones. He had nobody. His parents had died a long time ago, and he never had been the best at making human connections. He'd always felt more comfortable in front of a screen or with a book in his hands. It was easier for him to form a connection with fictional characters. They always seemed to understand him better, and when he watched one of his favorite TV shows, such as Star Trek, he wasn't just watching a television program, he was returning to his friends.
He had lost them, too. Without electricity, he never would be able to see them again. The only thing that mattered in this new world was the physical reality, nothing else, and his physical reality was devoid of anything. While others were driven by their pursuit of love, Adam was carried along by the current of his own heartbeat. Nobody would be looking for him. Nobody cared about him enough to do that, and he wasn't stupid enough to believe he could make it through this world alone, even though his instinct was to flee from other people out of fear.
Fear defined his life. He was scared to be around people, and scared to be with them. He was scared of the unknown, but scared of the self-evident truths that danced within his mind. He was scared to live and scared to die, and scared of being forever caught in the prison of this limbo where nothing was being achieved. It was the first day of the apocalypse and already Adam was feeling hopeless. How could he endure this misery? How could he make it through the rest of time? The future stretched endlessly before him, and it was all murky and gray, filled with uncertainty. Some would relish that. Freed from the shackles of their mundane lives, they now would have the chance for adventure, to strike out into the unknown. Adam wished he was like his heroes and could go boldly into the final frontier, but all he wanted to do was retreat to a safe place.
By now he knew things truly were hopeless. If there had been a chance for the electrical equipment to work again, it all would have been restarted, and if only Opal City had been affected, then relief efforts would have come to help them. It was almost certainly a nationwide thing, if not a global thing, and Adam shook his head when he thought about the bleak prospects for his life. If he wasn't killed by other people, he surely would die of thirst or starvation, or an attack by an animal, or an illness. The world was in chaos and he never had felt smaller. Plagued by these thoughts, he huddled himself away in another alley, waiting for the day to pass, ignoring all the sounds of human interaction.
Eventually, his hunger struck again and he ventured out to find some more food. This time he was determined to eat it as soon as he found it rather than carry it around with him, should he run into more men who just would take it from him without a second thought. This endeavor was not as successful as his last foray, and the small portion of food he found was barely enough to quell his appetite. Adam had been used to a gluttonous existence, gorging himself on take-out and chocolate whenever he felt the whim, which probably was more often than he
actually needed to eat. Because he had sustained those habits for years his body now was crying out to be fed, and he was truly miserable.
While he rummaged through the store, however, he also found a knife. The metal gleamed in a tantalizing way, almost as though it was singing to him, like all the moments in his life had led up to this one. He picked it up and held it in his hand. The blade was about six inches long and the edge was sharp. He pressed his thumb against it and winched, although he didn't draw blood. The handle was bound in leather, and as he curled his fingers around it, he felt as though it had been meant for him. But unlike Arthur, who after drawing the sword from the stone felt the righteous power of a king, Adam only saw it as a way out.
He walked out of the store and went to a nearby park, where he sat down on a bench. His eyes were transfixed on the knife. It seemed to whisper to him, a dark voice in the back of his mind that gradually grew louder and louder. It told him he had no place in this world. He wasn't meant for it, and this was his way out. All he had to do was take the blade and press it against his skin so hard his flesh would break and the dark warm blood would come seeping out, and with it, so too, would his life. All his anguish would be done with, all the pain, and it only would be helping along the inevitable. He was going to die at some point, why not do away with all the horrors of the world and take his fate into his own hands?
Behind him he heard a cough, and turned around.
Chapter Seven
There was a small scared-looking man. He was about five-feet six-inches tall, but he looked smaller because of his hunched shoulders. He was older than Adam, probably in his fifties. His hair was thinning and gray, and his eyes darted about, searching for someone to help him. His body was wiry, with a pot belly, and he looked about as equipped for this world as Adam was. Adam rose from the bench and walked toward the man, intending to try helping him, but as he did so the man cowered in fear and tried to push himself away. Adam didn't understand why at first, but then he looked down at his hand. He was gripping the knife so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He realized that to this stranger he was nothing but a brute, and could have been no better than the three men who accosted him earlier, or the angry people who had turned to violence in the crowd.