The Society Builders

by Anthony Puyo

  I wonder about Jake himself. He’s a small guy, nothing to be intimidated by. What many don’t know, though, is that he’s a survivor. My belief is he’s around somewhere. With the last of the cell phones banned, I can’t see how we’re ever going to find each other. Though, I still hold out hope that we will someday, hopefully soon, see each other one last time before our running comes to an end—which I know will eventually happen.

  17

  Today is Wednesday May 23, 2052 and the sun has finally set. My facial hair has calmed from bothering my skin. I can only assume it’s the length that has subsided the insatiable desire to scratch my jawbone.

  Among other things to note, the group I’ve been running with has steadily dwindled down to less than ten, as most decided to give up their fight and join the rest of the world. Most of the remaining are the unwanted homeless that had nothing before the mandatory law. In talking with some of them, they’ve made it clear that they are going to ride off into the sunset with this dilemma. I don’t blame them. Why would they want to assimilate into society that has not wanted them for years?

  There is one woman here, Anna, who was very wealthy before the law, but she chose not to assimilate because of a faith in Jesus Christ. Though I’m am not a very religious person, I believe if my grandmother’s and Anna’s God exist, he would be in favor of her choice to stay pure.

  I thought about this all day today, while waiting for the authority to do a raid on us down here. They've been doing them all over the city, so I do expect one to happen. I’ve come to grips that I will take my death with no struggle when the time comes. I can’t live life like this forever. And now that I’m sure Myra will not be back in my life; I don’t see what’s left to live for. However, if given the opportunity I would repeat this all over again if I got to feel the warmth of her embrace one last time.

  I straighten my dirty clothes that were once something to look at. Tonight is a special occasion. With only three nights left, I want to try and do something before I say goodnight forever.

  I fear my endeavor to knock on this door before me will only leave a bad memory for those who will stick around. I do sincerely hope that I’m wrong.

  I knock four times on the amber door. In less than a minute the porch light turns on overhead. I’m blinded heavily. I’ve not seen light this bright in over two weeks.

  The door opens and at nearly the same time I hear a glass break and a body collapse.

  “Oh my God, Dave!” Rob says near ground level.

  As my eyes focus I see my two old friends. Rob holds Dave’s head up and they both stare with open mouths.

  We sit at the kitchen table, me all raggedy, them dressed nice. I can see I interrupted their very nice meal.

  “Here, man. You must be starving.” Rob says.

  I take the plate of greens and sautéed chicken breast and eat like an animal. I didn’t want to, but when you haven’t eaten in three days it’s very hard to show table manners.

  I feel them watching me.

  “I’m sorry guys. I don’t mean to disgust you.”

  Dave shakes his head no but his eyes are still wide. “Don’t worry, dude.”

  “How have you been?” Rob asks with a tone that signifies that was probably a bad question.

  “Well, you know. Not all that well. I should make this clear before you wonder further. I was not involved in David Casper’s crime. That was bullshit made up to make me a wanted man.”

  “Oh yeah, don’t worry about it, Jason. We didn’t believe that stuff.”

  I hear the patronizing in their voices, but I don’t bring it up. My mind is not what it used to be, and I’ve come to realize these two know nothing of what I went through, because they never knew that part of my life.

  “I just wanted to see you guys one last time. I’ve chosen to turn myself in on Friday. So . . .”

  “I understand, Jason.” Rob says with Dave agreeing. But I know they don’t really understand. And that’s okay, because I came here for me. Though they didn’t know all of me, I did know them. They are my friends.

  “I don’t want this to get anymore awkward. I’m going to leave now. Thank you for the food.”

  “You bet, man.” Dave says with a chuckle. He’s such a stoner. God, I love his simplicity.

  I begin to walk towards the door when Rob says something that stings my eardrum.

  “I think Myra really took it hard. She hasn’t been at work since a day after you left.”

  “Really?” I ask, back turned to them, acting as if I’m not all that interested. “Have you heard from her?”

  “No. Her dad and Michael said she decided to leave the company. That she was going to move back home and rethink her career opportunities.”

  Hmm. That sounds a little too coincidental. I turn as I open the door. “Hey guys, for what it’s worth. I really liked working and hanging with you.”

  Dave is the first to stick out his hand. “Same here, dude.” I see his eyes get glossy. “Fuck, I don’t know where this is coming from.” He hugs me. Very unexpected. “I’m going to miss you, Jason.”

  Suddenly, Dave hugs over both of us. “Same here, Jason.”

  I left their home feeling a spark in my chest. By the time I made it to the sidewalk—it became a flame.

  I think it’s time to pay Henry Matson a visit.

  18

  Today is Thursday, March 24th, 2052. I never killed a man before. But the times I shot at Phil Balock, I can honestly say, I wouldn’t have cared if he died.

  Like before, I wait till the sun goes down. It’s the easiest way to maneuver through the city.

  What I’m about to do is risky. Possibly stupid. But when you consider yourself already dead, then what is there to lose.

  In the darkness of night and in the oldest, most uninhabited part of the city, I plan my web. I’m going to get answers, even if it kills me.

  I put a piece of triangular shard glass in my waistband. Then at the bottom of a wrecked building, I take my ball-cap off.

  I close my eyes and scour the mainframe. I just think as hard as I can of who I’m searching for. Myra told me it can be done, so I’m putting her great wisdom of the mainframe to the test.

  It takes about a minute, and I only hope the authority doesn’t track me before I’m done.

  Finally—success!

  I see his grey piercing eyes covering most of the room of my skull.

  “Ahh, Jason. I was wondering when I would hear from you. I thought you finally saw your worth and decided to let go. It’s all over for you.”

  “Are you going to come for me, or you too chicken shit, and will let the authority do what you couldn’t? Scared I’ll take your other ear off? You know what’s the good thing about the mainframe, you can feel when somebody is angry.”

  “You little shit. I can feel you too. You're hoping to kill me. Ha. What if I don’t go?”

  “You will.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because I challenge you. And you hate that such an inferior person has done what no one else has in a long time. I make you feel close to death.”

  “So I guess we’re both not afraid to die.” He smirks. “I’ll be there. And when I’m done with you, I’ll let sweet Myra know how you didn’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

  “That’s a fucking lie and you know it. She’ll never believe you!”

  “And that’s where you have it all wrong, Jason. I don’t need her to believe. I just want her to question who you were for the rest of her life. I will ruin your legacy. That I promise you.”

  Pissed as hell, I slam my fist into a broken down, wooden picket fence. I put my hat back on and get out of the mainframe.

  The scenery is an overcast of dark over the rubble and abandoned dwellings. This part of the city shut down a decade ago from a lack of money for suitable housing. Only the decay of human society hung around these parts a few weeks ago. The mandatory law put a stop to all that. All who were hom
eless were now being taken care of due to this new utopia set up by our government and Matson Cybertech. From what I heard, the rest of the world has already joined in on Matson’s endeavor in chipping everyone.

  An hour goes by before I witness any kind of activity. A light flickers in the distance. I can see it’s headed this way. I stay crouched behind some rocks of a two-story building, waiting till I can identify the craft.

  As it gets closer I see that it’s a metallic green. It lands in a space that used to be a road near a petroleum station—old technology.

  The wing door opens and bright lights circle around its triangle body. It’s bright enough that I block my eyes for a few seconds.

  “Jason!” the figure yells. “Come out come wherever you are! . . . No need to worry about the authority. I’ve blocked them from interfering. Call it a perk from working at DARPA.”

  I’m only a football field away, so I could either take my cap off or just shout my existence. I think better of both ideas and opt for a better position.

  I stand, accidentally dropping a piece of loose rubble.

  Phil doesn’t waste no time in trying to end me. He pulls a rifle from underneath his long coat and shoots my way. Shards of small stone hit my skin as I duck away. I stay low and leave the top of this building, heading for the ground floor. It’s dark, so I must be careful that Phil doesn’t creep up on me.

  By the time I get down, I hear the ricochet of another few bullets. They hit over my head against a brick wall I’m near. I run, with my hands and arms up. I find a hole in a chain link fence and sneak through, and once again, shots get fired near me.

  I make my way into what was some sort of hotel or condominium. It’s not too bad, as only a quarter of the roof is missing. I find a spot and peek through a crack in the wall of one of the old rooms. I don’t hear Phil. Did I lose him?

  A few seconds later I see him walk in the lobby. I now know why his shots seemed particularly accurate. He’s wearing night vision goggles.

  “Jason, I know you're here. Why don’t you come out and play?” He says holding his weapon, barrel pointing up towards the ceiling.

  Think Jason, think.

  Breathing hard, sweat misting on my bare shoulders, I stand and try to move somewhere where I can sneak up on him. I find an area near an open hallway door. If I can get him to pass me up, I can maybe wrestle his gun away. If I screw up, he’s liable to tear me to shreds with that rifle.

  He treads over the hefty debris, searching for me.

  Cracked walls, thrown books and magazines, spray paint writing of shit I can’t read; the walkway embodies all of this and more.

  I hear him getting closer. I pull my shard of glass. One shot to his ribs is all I need. I don’t want to kill, not yet. I need answers first.

  As soon as I see his back I jolt at him, tripping over a stone. He turns quickly, using his gun to guard himself. I drop the knife, and we both hold onto the gun. He slams me against the wall. I push back.

  We struggle. He then headbutts me, busting my nose. I let go of the rifle and slam back first against the wall of the small hallway. He steps forward and I use the wall to enforce a kick to his midsection. The force sends him back breaking into the brittle wall. I take the time and run down the dark hallway. He takes a few shots that send dust off the walls till one bullet zings through my outer thigh. A flesh wound at best, but the blood doesn’t know that. I gather myself in a room, breathing hard and thinking of my next move.

  “I see blood on the floor, Jason. Are we even yet? Oh no, we are not even close to even. Not till the coyotes eat the flesh off your bones. What’s this, you’re in the mainframe. You should not be able to log in and out like that. One of Garrison’s tricks, I’m assuming? Bad idea to be logged on, Mr. Mendez.”

  I limp across the street, back to the two story where I was earlier. I see him in my mind. He’s following. His rifle is jammed as he tries to shoot at me. He gets angry and tosses it. He pulls his pistol but I make it in the building. I move up the stairs with some ease. I’ve studied this building while I waited for him. I feel him come in. He’s on my trail again.

  “Ahh, you sonofabitch,” Phil hollers as he steps on a nail board I set up earlier. He sees me up the stairs. He empties his clip firing at me.

  “I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Jason.” He moves up the stairs. I trip over a piece of brick. He gains on me. He sees my back.

  “I got you, you—you—” He gurgles blood out of his mouth as he falls to the ground. “Clever little prick. Well played.” He says to me.

  I used the mainframe for him to spot me, but I put my hat on as he got very close to distort his reception. When he saw, I wasn’t where I should have been, it was too late. I got him from behind, shoving a homemade spear into his ribcage.

  I get over him. “Give me Henry’s home address, Phil. It’s hidden from the public.”

  Phil coughs. “Why should I?”

  “Because I beat you fair and square.”

  “What do you think, kid, that you two will live the rest of your lives together? That’s not the way it works. You’ll be dead by Friday, twelve midnight.”

  I clench his coat in my fist, picking him up by his chest. Give me the address, please Phil? You have nothing left to fight for. Die with some dignity.”

  He gasps with what little air he has left, then gives a smirk. Phil dies with eyes open, staring at me.

  “Phil? Phil?!” I take off my hat, hoping that I can still reach him as he drifts away. At the forefront of my mind reads the number 37833 Apker Rd.

  “Thank you, Phil,” I whisper.

  As much as I hated the guy, and as much as he disliked me, through the mainframe, I felt there was some level of admiration we felt towards each other. Perhaps the loyalty we shared for our causes. That being said—I need transportation. I smash what’s left of a window and come back to Phil with the sharpest piece of glass I could carry. A few seconds later, I saw right into Phil’s wrist.

  19

  I wake up this Friday with a ringing in my head. As I reach for my forehead, I realize my hat is off.

  “Jason?! I found you. I can’t believe I found you. Jason, get up. It’s me, Jake.”

  I sit up as if someone emptied ice water over my head. “Jake, how can this be?”

  “I gave in, Jason. Life was to rough out there for me and my family. I didn’t want to end up like Leonard, man.”

  “Leonard is? . . .”

  “Yeah. I’m afraid so. May God bless his soul.”

  “I’m glad you found me, Jake. I can’t stay on any longer. I don’t want the authority to show up. I tell you what, take down my coordinates. Meet me a block east of where I’m at, down towards the ruins. Seven o'clock tonight. Can you do that?”

  “You bet, brother. Need anything else?”

  “Yeah, about ten burgers, and some clothes. Take down my sizes. Oh, and I almost forgot. Bring your hacking equipment.”

  “Hell yeah, man. Now you’re speaking my language.”

  Jake came over in a drone taxi. It was nice to see him. We hugged. The first thing I noticed was how well dressed he was; compliments of being chipped, he told me.

  Afterwards we fed the remaining people underground. A sort of last meal. I told them all that I wouldn’t be back, and that they did good in fighting the good fight.

  Anna, the one woman who was with us, held a cross rosary in her hand the whole time. She didn’t eat any of the food. Drinking water only. She sat Indian style with us, always swaying back in forth. She had her head covered in a red scarf, and the rest of her was fairly covered as well. Something of a flowery dress.

  Anna kept a smile, and preached from a bible why everyone else ate. There was one thing she said from the book that struck a memory of my grandma. It was a reading I had heard a handful of times. It is only now that I come to think this may have been one of the reasons my grandma had been a resistor of the world's evolution. I know, like Anna, grandma did have a religious bac
kground. The reading went like this:

  Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor's crown.

  We all followed Anna in saying the words Amen at the end.

  I wash up with some water from a leaking hydrant not far from are hideout. It was cold, but I wanted to look and feel good with the clothes Jake brought me. I kept the small patches of beard I had, I felt it made me look a bit older and perhaps wiser.

  The clothes Jason brought were close to what I would wear from my own wardrobe. He explained he picked them out earlier in the day with the measurements I gave him. Black dressy jeans, skinny at the ankles; a burgundy collared long sleeve shirt; brown dress shoes; and a long coat to cover everything.

  “Are you ready?” I ask Jake, standing next to Phil’s metallic, dark green craft.

  Jake responds. “This is cool! Whose is it?”

  “Phil Balock.”

  Jake’s eyes widen. “You?”

  “Yes.” I say, giving a solemn stare with a slit sized grin. “Get in Jake, we got work to do.”

  Jake steps in with his slim blue box, the size of a briefcase. It holds all his computing gizmos. I put the rifle in the back seat. It took me an hour earlier in the day, but I got it to unjam.

  “That’s a big gun,” Jake says.

  “Big problems require big weapons.” I say to his gasped snicker.

  Jakes asks. “How are you going to drive this? It’s government issued. You would need to have your hand print registered.”

  I gaze at him over my shoulder. “I got a key.” I pull Phil’s hand out from inside my coat and press it on the dash where it’s required to go. The craft immediately starts up. All four propellers wheels begin to spin, making light humming noise.