Echoes of a Dying World (Book 1)

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Echoes of a Dying World (Book 1) Page 16

by Don M. Esquibel


  All eyes focus on Hawkins, mine included. The sight of him here, among so many unfriendly faces, gives me a shred of hope to cling to. The tension in the room is suffocating. Beads of sweat race down my face and trail down my neck. My nerves are peaked, knowing whatever he's here to say will have an impact on the council's decision.

  "Thank you," Hawkins says to the council. "As you all know, I was born and raised here in Salida, and I thank God every day for that fact. This town has blessed me with much over the years: the best friends anyone could ask for, the love of a beautiful woman, a family of my own to watch grow before my eyes. It has given me so much, I've always felt like I owed this community something in return. I went into law enforcement for that very reason—so I could help protect its citizens and keep my town, my home, safe. That desire didn't fall with power grid, in fact, it strengthened considerably. There's no denying the world is in a dark place right now. Communities such as this are the few bright spots that remain, and it will take great strength and perseverance to keep the darkness from snuffing us out. I don't need to tell you of the threats we face. They are many, they are dangerous, and they are closer than I'd like. That being said, I do not believe this young man to be one of them."

  "When he asked for a trade and told us of his sister, I believed him, because the pain in his eyes and rawness of his voice convinced me he was telling the truth. And when the trade was denied, the look of fear that flashed across his face was hard to witness. While I don't condone his actions, I certainly understand them. All of you have families. Ask yourselves if there is anything you would not do to keep them alive. Now ask yourselves if what he did was so malicious. They didn't overpower our guards at the pharmacy—they bribed them. They didn't kill deputy Gibbons and the pharmacy guards when they had the chance—they subdued them. And when they were under fire in their attempt to flee, rather than firing back, this young man chose to hurl himself off the back of the UTV in hopes the distraction would give his friends the opportunity to escape. And I won't go into specifics, but the injuries to his face and body are testament to how he was treated once apprehended."

  "He may be reckless, but I also believe he is smart, loyal to a fault, and certainly not a threat to this town despite what his actions would lead you to believe. I know I have no authority in what happens to him, but I pray you consider what I said when you decide his fate. I believe he is a good young man, and those are in short supply these days. It would be a shame to cut him down now, because I truly believe he could grow into something special. That's all I have to say. Thank you."

  I'm in numb disbelief as Hawkins ends his plea on my behalf. I sensed he was a good guy ever since we were brought before him at the town line, but I never expected the words he said. Sneaking a few lortabs to me is one thing, to plead my case in front of the most influential people in town is quite another. Hess thanks him for his statement and dismisses him. He nods in the council's direction, and when I catch his eye I try to convey my gratitude as best I can. I'm not sure he understands my gesture, but I understand the nod and pointed stare he fixes me with: I did my best. The rest is up to you.

  My attention snaps back to Hess at the sound of her voice. "I would like to open up the floor to my fellow council members, to voice any questions they might have at this time." There aren't many:

  Q: Did we steal from anywhere in town other than the pharmacy?

  A: No, the pharmacy was the only place on my mind.

  Q: How did I sustain my injuries?

  A: Partly from the landing after throwing myself off the UTV. Partly from deputy Gibbons’ attack.

  Q: Why didn't I return fire when we were being shot at in the field?

  A: I couldn't bring myself to do so.

  When they are finished, I am asked to give a closing statement before they adjourn and determine my fate. I clear my throat and take a breath to calm my nerves, recalling Hawkins stare and when he told me that what I said would weigh heavily on the outcome.

  "For the past month, my friends and I have been on the road. We were in Denver when the power went out, and our way of life was forever changed. I saw the worst side of humanity emerge from the shadows that day, unafraid, because everything we once depended on for order disappeared in an instant. That first night myself and two friends, the same two who accompanied me yesterday, rescued two girls from a group of men who had only the worst intentions. They've remained with us since, and through trial and hardship, we’ve become family."

  "Life on the road hasn't been easy. The only people we've been able to trust is ourselves. We made the mistake of trusting others early on. We took in a family: a husband and wife with two small children in for the night. We fed them, offered them a place to stay, believing we were doing the right thing. But it was all a lie. We caught them radioing in our location to the group they were with. They would have come through while we slept and wiped us out, maybe even have killed us to take what we had. We could have killed the parents, would have been considered reasonable by many to do so, but we chose to let them live because killing in cold blood isn't the kind of people we are. I've been forced to kill since the collapse, but only when left with no other choice, including the attack which set this whole ordeal in motion. When we came to your town we had no idea what to expect, and if being on the road has taught me anything, it's to be cautious around people you don't know. That's why we concealed our approach as we drew closer to your town—anybody would have who has seen the things we've seen."

  "I would just like to say, I never meant to cause your town any harm. It's the reason I never returned fire during our escape, because had I shot back and killed one of your men, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. Killing a man who is trying to kill you is one thing, it's quite another to kill a man whom you've done an injustice. I know I've done your town an injustice and I'm truly sorry for my actions, regardless of the reasons behind them. I have always tried to do what's right, if for no other reason than I hate the alternative. But the world has never been black and white, and now it seems like every choice is painted a shade of gray. I know the position you're in and I don't envy you for it. If I were in your shoes, I honestly don't know what I would do. Being where I am now, I'd like to believe I would show leniency, but I truly don't know. I’ve said all I can say on my own behalf. All I can do now is await your decision. Thank you."

  I feel exhausted as I finish speaking. Being on my feet so long, with my body as beat as it is has taken a toll. I am excused from the room and told to expect a decision within the hour. Two guards escort me back to my cell and I immediately collapse onto the thin mattress, sighing in relief to be off my feet.

  I have never experienced anxiety like this, sitting here, nothing to do but wait. Time is sluggish in its movement, each minute stretching lazily into the next. My mind is a prison, confined to dwell on all the dark outcomes that may soon become my reality. I can't breathe. I try taking deep breaths, hoping to calm myself, but it's as if all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. I don't want to die. For the first time since this all began, that deep seeded fear comes to the surface. I've danced with death so many times already, but always my biggest fear was for those around me. But sitting here, removed from the warmth of friends, I feel that cold dread running up my spine. I remind myself that it doesn't matter, that my friends will continue on even if I do not, but the words feel hollow even in my mind.

  It isn't fair. What did I ever do to deserve this? The thought comes, and with it, a wave of shame at my petulance. I may not deserve to be where I am, but I am not alone in that regard. How many families have been torn apart? How many women raped? How many children have died with crying eyes and hollow bellies? Over seven billion people were alive on the onset of the collapse, how many have already fallen in its wake? Even before the collapse, the world was full of injustice and misfortune. It only feels different now because it's happening to me.

  I drink deeply from the jug of water and splash some on my face, cl
earing my head the best I can. If this is the end, I will not let my last moments be spent contemplating the unfairness of my situation. I think of my friends, of all the time spent with them that I will forever cherish. And I find peace not in the knowledge that they will go on, but that if I am to die, I died protecting those I love.

  Footsteps proceed the arrival of the two guards who will lead me to the council and their verdict. I am led down the same hallways, adrenaline and anxiety so high I hardly feel the injuries to my body. The room is exactly as I left it, the only exception being the addition of Hawkins who sits at the head of the table where he spoke his plea on my behalf. I try to read him, wondering what his presence means, but he remains as unreadable as ever. I take my vacated seat across from the council, sitting tall and straight. If I am to die, I won't do so shaking and broken. I train my eyes on Hess, who eyes me in return with the same evaluating look as earlier.

  "Mr. Taylor," she begins. "While this council does not condone your actions, we understand the circumstances which led you to make them. Still, these actions cannot be regarded lightly; namely the theft of medication from our town stores, detainment of our officers, theft of firearms from said officers, and theft of one of our fleet UTV’s. Regarding the theft of firearms from our officers, we are of the opinion your own firearms were unjustly confiscated at the town line, and as such we deem them to offset one another. Additionally, we feel the excess ammunition confiscated from you represent fair value for the medication you took, and we will therefore seek no punishment for that charge."

  Her eyes dart in Gibbons direction a moment. Mine don't follow. I can practically feel the anger rolling off him from here. My stomach is in knots. There is still plenty of reasons to worry. She refocuses her attention on me and continues. "That still leaves us with the detainment of our officers and the theft of one UTV, both very serious crimes. However, due to deputy Hawkins' testimony on your behalf, we do not believe these acts were done with malicious intent, and therefore do not warrant capital punishment. Also, considering the UTV has since been recovered, we feel there was no lasting harm done. Since the collapse, we have adopted the custom of pain atonement for nonresidents of this town. That atonement is most typically administered in the form of lashes from a whip. All things considered, we would have issued twenty lashings, ten for each offense, and a permanent ban from our town. However, deputy Gibbons seems to have called upon himself to administer that atonement. Given the severity of your injuries, we have deemed it sufficient, and we will not seek any additional punishment. The permanent ban still applies, and if you’re caught within our borders again, no trial will be held. You will be shot on sight. Do you understand these conditions?"

  No, I don't understand. I feared death. I feared pain. I feared at least some kind of punishment to be handed down, yet she's basically telling me I'm free to go. I spare a glance at Gibbons, the look on his face positively murderous, and I imagine it's taking all the self-restraint he has not to voice his anger at the council. "I..." I stumble on my words. "I'm banned from here and...that's it?" I ask in disbelief.

  Her eyes soften if only slightly, and her mouth quirks in the barest ghost of smile. "Yes, that is it Mr. Taylor. We are not savages here. We only want what is best for this town." Her eyes darken in Gibbons' direction a moment before flicking back to me. "There is still an internal matter to be discussed. If you would be so kind as to step out a minute, we will arrange an escort to accompany you to the town line."

  I stand, all pain forgotten by the overwhelming sense of relief swelling inside me. Never did I expect this outcome when I hurled myself off the back of the UTV. That's when it fully hits me: I'm free. I’m not going to die in this unfamiliar town surrounded by strangers. I'm going to be reunited once more with my friends, my family. I'm going to have the chance to continue on the journey we set forth a month ago, and together, we'll make it home, and create a place we can call our own.

  "Thank you," I say, trying to convey my gratitude. "I don't know what else to say. Just...thank you." They don't reply except to nod their heads in acknowledgment. I skirt the edge of the table, unable to keep the smile from my face. I catch Hawkins’ eye, his usually stoic face etched with a small grin. I close the door behind me and sink down on the wooden bench outside, my mind still wrapping itself around what just happened. Whereas I felt anxiety like I've never known waiting for the council to render their verdict, so too have I never felt relief as I do right now, my knotted stomach unwinding and smile plastered on my face.

  I hear the raised voices issuing in the room behind me, muffled by the thick glass. I imagine Gibbons has finally let loose his frustration with the ruling. I don't think I could ever like the man, not after everything that's happened, but I feel like I understand him better now that I know of his wife and unborn child. Though there is nothing he could have done, I think he still feels he failed to protect them. It's completely irrational, but grief has a way of rationalizing even the most irrational of thoughts. He's a broken man, but rather than wallow in misery he has chosen to try and offer this town the one thing he believes he failed to provide his family: protection. But in his grief and mania to protect this town, his view of things has been warped and has changed him into the person he's become. The wounds he gave me will heal with time, but I don't know if I can say the same for his own. Sitting here, knowing I'll be walking out this building a free man, I feel any lingering anger toward him melt away, leaving only sympathy in its place.

  Chapter 14

  The door is violently wrenched open and out walks Gibbons, shaking in his anger. His nostrils flare, his chest heaves, his hands curl into fists I know want nothing more than to find purchase with my face. If not for the council on the other side of the door they mostly likely would have, but their presence keeps him in check. He shakes his head once, eyes narrowed in hate, before turning his back and storming away. I'm still watching his retreating form when I hear my name being called.

  "Huh?" I ask confusedly, turning to see Hawkins standing feet outside the doorway.

  "I said it's time to go," he says. "I'll be escorting you to the town line, but I can remove your handcuffs now."

  "Oh, right," I reply, wincing as I stand. He removes the metal cuffs and stows them away on his belt. "Let's go." I follow, rubbing my wrists to regain circulation. He leads me out the building and toward a familiar looking UTV.

  "Isn't that the UTV from last night?" I ask.

  He nods. "One in the same."

  "I thought it was Gibbons'?" I prod.

  "It was only assigned to him. It belongs to the town," he replies. He doesn't mention Gibbons being demoted, it goes without saying. We pull out the lot at a cruise, so at odds with last night’s wild dash. The pharmacy we raided comes into view, reminding me of why I'm now in pain, and how much worse it could have been. I push it out of mind as we drive past, instead focusing on this town and how different it looks in the light of day. People walk about the sidewalks as they go about their business, some smiling and waving as we pass. Woodsmoke and the smell of cooking meats fill the air as we pass through residential streets, intermingling with the sound of men at work and children at play. The normalcy of it seems so strange to me, and it gives me hope for my own home.

  "This town, it's amazing the peace and order you've been able to maintain," I comment.

  "It hasn't been without setbacks, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree," Hawkins says. "We reacted quickly enough, put measures in place that would let us get a handle on the situation before the panic set into people. There's still plenty of work to be done, but I believe we have what it takes to survive the long haul." I don't doubt it with men like him in positions of power. We pull onto E. Rainbow Blvd. and drive its length till it turns into HWY 50. Hawkins pulls up to the roadblock adjacent to the Walmart and tells me he'll be back in a minute. He has a few words with the men at the blockade before we continue down the road. He doesn't go far, maybe another mile before pulling over and we cli
mb out.

  "This is as far as I take you," he says, unzipping a pack he had thrown in the bed. He reaches into it and unearths a small drawstring sports pack. "This is for you. Your knives, and a couple extra parting favors," he says.

  I take it and swing it over my good shoulder. "Thank you. And not just for this, but for everything. If you hadn't spoken at that hearing, I don't know if it would have turned out the way it did."

  He nods. "I wouldn't have said what I did, if I didn't mean it. You're a good man, Morgan. I wish I had more like you."

  "I appreciate that." I pause. “If you don't mind me asking, what's going to happen to Gibbons?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

  He shakes his head and drops his eyes a moment. "They'll put him on one of the blockades in town I'd imagine. Maybe some guard shifts thrown in. They don't want him in a position of power, but they also can't afford to relieve him of duty either."

  I can hear the concern in his voice as he says this. "He needs you," I tell him. His eyes dart to mine. "He's lost. He needs you to help him find the man he used to be." I don't know what makes me say this, but I know I believe in what I say.

  "I've tried," he says quietly. "Believe me, I've tried...but he just pushes me further and further away."

  "Then push back," I say louder than I intended, catching him off guard. I don't know why this matters so much to me given all that's happened between us. I just keep thinking of Leon and Felix and how no matter the hell they were going through, I'd be there—I'd make sure they knew they weren't going through it alone. He's been friends with Gibbons longer than I've been alive, and a friendship like that is rare, and it's not something you throw away or turn your back on. I could never do either to Leon or Felix. "You can't turn your back on him, not if you were ever truly his friend. True friends don't give up on each other. Ever. Even if he pushes you away or gets angry or tells you to fuck off; you push him right back and get in his face and make sure he realizes you're not going anywhere—that you're in this with him, and no matter how far off the path he gets, you're going to be there to guide him back."

 

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