Daunting Decisions

by Kip Nelson

  The thought scared him. It was an inhuman thought. It made him wonder if he just was going to end up as an unfeeling, uncaring monster, as one of the villains from the stories that so inspired him, rather than the hero.

  “It happened when I didn't think it was going to happen. I'd heard things, you know, and I knew what people were like. Yet, I didn't think it was going to happen to me...to us. I thought we were over the worst of it once the riots stopped and all of that horror was over. Then some thugs came up to us, and they took her. They just took her, stole her from me like she was some food or clothes, not like she was an actual person. I couldn't do anything. There was nothing I could do. I just had to stand there and watch them take my wife away, and I don't know where they went. Even if I did, I was just one man, and look at me. Look at me, Adam. What was I supposed to do? And I just can't stop thinking about what they're doing to her...day after day...all those men...oh God...oh God...” he said, and his head slumped down into his arms, his groans muffled.

  That was the kind of world they lived in now, where that kind of thing could happen. People could take what they wanted, and as long as they were stronger than you, there was nothing you could do about it. Adam tried not to think about the suffering that Clark's wife would be enduring, or the personal hell that Clark was putting himself through. It was clear that something had to be done. Clark was helpless, and as much as he wanted to save his wife, Adam knew there was no way, not by himself anyway. It would require a concerted effort, and neither he nor Clark was charismatic enough to rally people around their cause. The only thing Clark could do was pray that his wife already was dead so her suffering was over, but a fire burned in Adam's heart. He hated the way this new world was shaping up.

  “We need someone to create order again, to create a society. We can't go on living like this.”

  “I agree,” Clark said, lifting his head, his eyes wet and red with tears. “But who? Look around you. Everyone is the same. We've all lost people. We've all suffered. There's nothing any of us can do except hope we make it through this by the grace of God, and that we can be a part of the next phase of humanity.”

  “But that isn't good enough for now. What about all the people suffering now? What about all those who need help now?”

  “I don't know where you can look, Adam. We never were made for this type of world. We're just like the Hololife and everything use we used to work with, totally useless. If you haven't realized that now, then it'll only be a matter of time before you do.”

  Adam set his jaw and looked away. He wished he could be the kind of man these people needed, the kind of man this world needed.

  Chapter Four

  Diana and Annabelle were out in the city for a number of hours. It was easy to lose track of the time without cell phones, and without a schedule to keep. It was funny, Diana thought. Back in her old life she felt she never had enough time to do anything, but now there was almost too much time and not enough to do. Annabelle had been happy, she'd found a few marbles and she was looking forward to playing with them with Peter and Adam later. It still struck Diana as amazing how Annabelle could make friends so easily. Perhaps it was just that way with children. Diana remembered when she was younger, having birthday parties where she invited around twenty children. Although now she wondered just how much of that was her parents trying to make sure nobody felt left out. But over the course of her life she had become more suspicious of people, and warier of their intentions. It was almost as though she suspected they all had their own agendas, and were plotting against her in some way.

  The sad thing is she ultimately had ended up being correct in that assumption, and that attitude had carried over into this world. The only person who she trusted unconditionally was Annabelle, who now came bounding over to her, yawning.

  “Getting tired?” Diana asked. Annabelle nodded. “It's been a long day for you, after you went and gave Adam that tour.”

  “Are you mad at me about that? I just wanted to show him,” Annabelle said.

  “I'm not mad, but you know I don't like you going off on your own without me knowing.”

  “I wasn't on my own, I was with Adam,” the young girl protested.

  “I know, but there's still a lot we don't know about him. I'd rather you stay close to me for the time being. I'm sure he is a nice, average guy, but if you want to go off with him I'd just like to know where you are, for my peace of mind. I'm sure if I went off somewhere you'd like to know.”

  “I guess. I'm sorry. Do you think they'll like the marbles, though?”

  “I'm sure of it,” Diana said, curling her arm around Annabelle's shoulders. “We'd better head back now anyway. It's getting pretty late.”

  “Yeah, the sun is going to set over there,” Annabelle said, pointing toward the horizon.

  Then she started talking about what it signified when the sun was that low, and how long it would be until it was spring again. Too long for Diana's liking. The nights were long, and Diana didn't envy anyone who stayed out in the city after dark. It wasn't the safest place in the day, but at night it would have been even worse. She'd spent a few nights out there herself and she didn't want to go back to that. It was hard to sleep when you always were wary of who or what could be out there, watching and waiting for you.

  It actually made her have some admiration for Adam and Peter. If they were telling the truth about how they had survived in the wild, it showed a great deal of determination to make it through those harsh conditions. Maybe it highlighted the positive aspects of their characters that Annabelle seemed to so readily be aware of. In fact, Diana decided to try making more of an effort with them. Annabelle had gravitated toward them, and it seemed as though Adam had a protective fondness for the child as well. When they first had met Adam had assumed Diana was a threat, and had tried defending Annabelle, even though he only just had met her. Perhaps it was time for Diana to adjust her attitude slightly and give them the benefit of the doubt.

  The two of them returned to the apartment, being careful as always, and ready to have a pleasant evening. At least as pleasant an evening as anyone could have given the circumstances. However, when they arrived they noticed there was some commotion. A number of people were sticking to the walls, turning away as though they wanted no part of whatever was going on, while others stared. Diana pushed her way through so she could see, with Annabelle right by her side, only to find Adam on his knees, over a bloodied body. Adam was hunched over with a pained look on his face. Diana looked shocked. What had Adam done?

  But it soon became clear that whatever it was, Adam was not responsible. The watchmen above him had mean looks on their faces and were rubbing their knuckles. “That's what happens to anyone who tries to steal,” one of them growled, making sure everyone heard it.

  The message was received and they walked away, back to guard the food store. Adam's face was ashen and he was trembling, either with shock or anger, Diana couldn't tell. The rest of the people moved away. None of them went up to try helping him. They all either took their place in line or moved away, out of danger. Perhaps they were afraid that if they associated with this man, they would end up like the body on the floor. Diana hated the fact they were in a society where people turned away from those in need.

  Instinctively, she went to shield Annabelle's eyes as they moved closer toward Adam, but Annabelle pushed her hands away and wriggled free. She wasn't the usual eleven-year-old. She had seen worse than this, even though this was pretty bad. Blood was smeared over the man's face, his teeth were broken, his eyes bruised. A pair of glasses lay beside him, wrangled and twisted, the lenses smashed into small crystals. His right hand was crushed and more blood seeped through his clothes.

  “What happened?” she asked in a dry voice, not entirely sure she wanted to know.

  She was a tough woman, but that didn't mean she wanted to see a man in this state. Adam was paralyzed and didn't seem to react to anything. She leaned down beside him and pulled the cloak from b
eneath the man, then laid it on top of him, offering him a little dignity at least. She squeezed Annabelle's hand, making sure to keep her close. Then she looked over at the watchmen, who were standing in their positions as though nothing had happened.

  “Adam,” she said, “talk to me.”

  “It was so brutal and quick,” he said, his voice hollow, his glassy eyes staring into space. He was in a state of shock, of complete and utter disbelief.

  “Who was he?”

  “My friend, Clark. We used to work together. He noticed me and pulled me over, and we got to talking.” Diana tried to tug his shoulder to get him to move, but Adam wasn't going anywhere.

  “He was telling me about what had happened to him, about how his wife had been taken from him and there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do. We were talking about the state of the world, and how it wasn't made for people like us, how only the strong were able to rise to the top, but that wasn't fair. We both agreed we didn't want to live in a world where might makes right, but the only way to make a difference is for someone to stand up and rally everyone else. But look at everyone. They're all dead already, just walking until they walk no more, just waiting for their final breath, but that's not enough. We both said there should be someone to make law and order in the world again, to put fear into the people who think they can bully others.

  “You should have heard what he had to say about these men who just tore his wife away from him. What was he supposed to do? How could he fight back when all he had was his two fists? We never were bred for this world. We were all about using our brains, but that's not enough. We started talking about how we'd like to change the world, what we would do if we had the ability to stand up to the oppressors, and he started getting this look in his eyes. I think he was a broken man. He had lost everything and there was no reason for him to go on living. I think it brought him great shame that he couldn't go up against these thugs who had taken his wife, and that he was just totally powerless.

  “All he wanted to do was fight back. He started talking about one small act of starting something big. That all it would take was one person standing up to them, and then everyone would follow suit. They had the guns, but there were too many other people, and yes there may have to be lives lost, but that was a small price to pay for the cause of freedom. I asked him what he was doing when they got him. He said it was soon time to eat, and he wanted to get what he was owed. I remembered what you said earlier, about how there was no problem if you just took what was your fair share and no more. I could tell from the way he spoke that he wanted to make some trouble, or maybe he just wanted a way out.”

  Adam's throat ran dry as he spoke. He gulped and ran his hand through his hair. It came back clammy with sweat. He hadn't even realized he had been sweating. The images of what had occurred flashed through his mind. They would stay with him for a long time, would haunt his nightmares with the cracking of bones and the smell of crimson blood.

  “He strode up to them. I tried to pull him back, but he had the look of a madman in his eyes. He was totally different from the Clark I used to work with. That Clark was always so calm and collected, and was always lost in his own world, but this time he was lost in this one. He yanked his arm away and told me he needed to do this. Maybe I should have stopped him. Maybe I should have dragged him back and begged him not to carry on, but I didn't know it all was going to end like this. Not with so much...finality...”

  “What did he actually do?”

  “He walked up to them and told them he wanted a good meal, not just the miserable rations they usually got. He said he was going to go in there and bring out enough food for a feast, that he was tired of other people telling him what he could and couldn't do. He told them the only reason people were afraid of them was because of the guns, but he wasn't afraid. He was going to take a stand, show them they couldn't just bully people around and take whatever they wanted. They told him that people weren't afraid of them just because of their guns. By this point people already were watching to see what would happen.

  “They just started punching him. The first one sent him sprawling to the ground, but he got back up. Then they punched him again, each one sending him to the other person. Soon his eyes were groggy, and he couldn't stand by himself, and everyone just stood watching. I called out and ran to help, but they pointed their fingers at me and told me that if I helped him, I'd end up the same. So, I shrank back. I watched as they punched and kicked him, as they sent him to the floor and pummeled him until he was unrecognizable. Eventually, he stopped making any sounds, but they still kept at it. The worst part is they enjoyed it. I could see the smiles on their faces and it made me sick. What kind of world are we living in when this can happen?” he asked. Diana had no answer for him. It was an ignominious end for this man, who would have to be added to the pile of bodies on the upper floor.

  Diana eventually managed to get Adam to move, and guided him and Annabelle back to their cubbyhole. “Why don't you go show Peter your marbles,” Diana said. Annabelle knew enough to do so without question, and Diana knew she would have to have a conversation with Annabelle later. Diana got Adam some water and was glad to see some of the color return to his cheeks.

  “Something has to be done. We can't keep living like this. It's not fair the way they just can kill a man and suffer no consequences. All Clark did was try getting more food, and who can blame him after everything he'd been through? They took his wife and now they've taken his life...what kind of fitting punishment is that? Clark didn't do anything wrong. It's just senseless, and it could have been any of us.”

  “What would you have us do exactly? Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do, and it's completely shit, but we're not fighters and we can't hope to take on those men. I'm sorry about your friend, but this is the way the world is. We just have to find a way to keep going.”

  “We could if everyone worked together.”

  “Have you seen these people? That's not going to happen. We're in this alone. It's better just to live our lives and not worry about anything else, just protect our own. I told you that the best thing to do was to leave things alone. Your friend didn't do that, and look where it got him.”

  “I just wish I was a hero. I wish I was braver and stronger so I could have done something.”

  “Well, you're not, none of us are,” Diana said harshly, feeling that it was the only way to get through to him.

  She was sorry about his friend because nobody should have gone through that. Although, as far as Diana was concerned, Clark had signed his own death warrant when he'd gone to antagonize the watchmen. Everyone knew what they were like, but Diana decided not to share that pearl of wisdom with Adam. She left him to himself, and then saw Annabelle playing marbles with Peter. It was almost as though nothing had happened, but something had, and Diana knew this wasn't going to be the end of it.

  Chapter Five

  For the rest of the day and night Adam was distraught. He listened to Annabelle's story of the day and tried feigning amusement. Yet, he found it difficult to summon up even the slightest smile, not that it seemed to bother Annabelle. She was oblivious to it, or she chose to be. She continued rambling on about anything she and Diana had seen. She also mentioned they hadn't met any new people, and Annabelle wondered if all the people were elsewhere. Adam didn't have an answer for her and, in that moment, he didn't particularly care about other people. The only thing on his mind was Clark. Annabelle chatted with Peter, and the two of them played with the marbles Annabelle had found. Peter had sensed something had shifted in Adam's mood, but nobody had told him anything about it. So, he was left in the dark. Frankly, Adam was tired of talking about it. He'd told Diana exactly what had happened and hadn't been pleased with her reaction. He thought it was lacking in hope and passion, and he was beginning to think she wasn't the woman he thought she was.

  For her part Diana remained silent. She knew things between her and Adam were tense, and that he needed time t
o process what had happened. She was concerned about him. She'd seen things in this world like that, things that had broken her and made her wonder if she was going to be able to live at all. She didn't know if Adam had seen things like that before, or if this was his first time. It was all well and good seeing dead bodies, and seeing people getting chased and threatened and beaten up. Although it was quite another thing to see someone you know get beaten to death. It wasn't something you'd forget.

  Adam was sitting with them, but he wasn't a part of their conversation, lost in his own world. He chewed on his food, but it was bland. The only thing it did was remind him of Clark, and how he had been killed because of food. It made him nauseous, and he thought for a moment he would throw up. He somehow managed to keep it down, but that was the only bit of food he had. After he ate he laid down and pulled a blanket over him, trying to sleep, trying to shut out the rest of the world. In the background he could hear the clink of marbles and the joyful shouts of Annabelle and Peter. He wished Diana would talk to him, but she remained silent, and he felt entirely alone again. The more things changed the more they stayed the same, he grimly mused.

  He'd hoped that if he went to sleep early, he could forget about the horrible things on his mind, but nothing could have been further from the truth. When he closed his eyes, he saw Clark being pummeled, saw him drop to the floor, saw those thugs come upon him and violate his body with their fists and feet, kicking and punching him until all the life had been driven from him, and then beyond. They'd treated Clark like a doll, just a toy for them to use for their amusement. To them he wasn't a real person. He didn't matter. None of them did. He had no idea what their agenda was, but one thing was for certain; they didn't have the well-being of the people in mind. Resentment and rage twisted inside him. It was the same anger he had felt back in the old world whenever he thought about the state of the world. This was different. The things affecting him were more immediate, and if he wanted he could have an impact. He could stand up to them.