Letting the World Burn

by Graham Dalton

  “So, what business do you have with the boss?” asked one of the men.

  “Mattis wants to cut a deal with him,” I said. “But I know it won't work. Please, just take me to him so I can get this over with.”

  “Fine,” one of them grunted. “I will take him to Andy. You keep guard.” The other guard nodded.

  I was escorted through their headquarters. A few drones flew above me, flashing red lights. They were probably police drones at some point, originally meant to keep a watchful eye over the Commoners. I turned to my right and saw a few pale, scruffy old men adjusting the wires of a dissected drone. They'd been re-purposing these drones for their own uses. I didn't expect many Commoners to be good with electronics, but then again, someone had to work at the drone factories.

  Several protesters huddled around smoldering trash cans. They stared me down, like the outsider I was. None spoke a word.

  The guard led me into a shack where a frail blond man sat behind a desk. His fingers fidgeted with a pencil as he stared forward with his narrow turquoise eyes. His pale skeletal face turned to me, and he grinned. This man looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. Given the vast array of jobs that I've done, I'm sure that I've encountered half the Commoner population at some point or another.

  “Ah, Quincy,” he said with a devilish grin. The man waved away the guard. “Leave us be. He's all right by me.”

  “But sir,” said the guard. “This is Quincy Abrams. You can't possibly-”

  “I trust him,” said the blond man, as he rose from his seat. “Now, let us speak in private, please. Quincy and I have some catching up to do.”

  The guard nodded and walked off. I still didn't know who the blond man was, so I kept thinking, trying to place him. I still came up with nothing.

  “Do you remember me, my old friend?”

  The man swiftly walked toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shoved him off. Then it hit me. I knew who he was.

  “Yeah, I remember,” I said. “You're Andy Barlow.”

  We had attended a Commoner school together. Back then, another string of protests was going on. Andy would talk about his dreams of people abandoning their violent ways and living in peace. He dreamed of a future without conflict or violence, but he was laughably idealistic. I was surprised to see him here today. I'd thought that his pathetic idealism would've gotten him killed long ago.

  “It sure has been a while,” he said. “I don't think I've seen you since we graduated.” He folded his arms. “So, has the renowned Quincy Abrams decided to finally join our cause?”

  “No,” I said firmly. Even if I did choose to side with the resistance, the other Commoners would never consider me their ally. I will always be a traitor to these people, and I suppose it was best that way. “I’m here to make an offer. The governor is offering you a hundred grand to put an end to the protests.”

  Andy smacked his lips together and shook his head.

  “Still working for the Elites, eh, friend?” he said while ignoring the offer. “Quincy, you should join our cause. We're going to convince the Elites to end this oppression. I can already see it, Quincy. Imagine a future where our children go to school with Elite children. Imagine a future where we can live in harmony, as one race. The human race.”

  I almost laughed. “That will never happen. The one hundred thousand. Do you want it or not?”

  Andy clapped his hands together and shook his head.

  “No.” What an idiot. “We do not need to partake in bribery, not when we are on the brink of a revolution. Change is coming, Quincy, and our resistance is going to be the harbinger of this change! Listen, I know that my people have been getting a bad reputation. I know that there have been a few times that my people attacked the police and caused violence, but we do not stand for violence. I truly believe in a future where the Elites and Commoners can live side-by-side in peace.”

  That sounded like a child's fairy tale to me. I forced myself to keep a straight face. If this is what their leader truly believes, their movement would crash and die.

  “You really think that's possible?” I said, humoring him. Andy nodded. “Violence is never the answer, Quincy. If we keep peacefully protesting, and if we can show the Elites that we're all not a bunch of savages, I believe we can make a difference. I know that we can make a difference. Change is on the horizon, Quincy. There will only be peace and prosperity.”

  “And how exactly do you expect to enact your ‘new order’?”

  “By teaching the people of this world to care about their fellow man,” Andy said. “I believe in a future with no violence, no war. I believe that we can work together to create a better future for all of our children.” He leaned away from the table. “But we need hope. Do you know why I was elected as their leader?”

  I didn't care to know why, but I had to humor him a little bit just to get to know this organization some more.

  “Why?”

  “Because I give these people hope for a new future. We all need hope, Quincy. When my brother died of cancer a few years back, I blamed the universe. I blamed God. I didn't think there was any justice in this world, so I joined ranks with the protesters. We were just a small ragtag group back then, but I believed in us. I believe in a hopeful future for mankind, and I inspired more to join our cause. Do you have hope for a peaceful future, too? And that’s why you're here! Isn't it? Or do you believe peace is something that can be bought and paid for by the governor?”

  I groaned under my breath. I wasn’t in the mood to argue the nature of his philosophies.

  “You're a good man, Quincy,” said Andy. “A very good man.” He breathed a quick sigh. “I do understand that you have an unfortunate reputation among our people, but you need to consider joining. It’s never too late to do the right thing.”

  “This place isn’t for me,” I said.

  “Understood. If you ever change your mind, I will always accept your assistance,” said Andy. “Feel free to walk around, talk to some of the revolutionaries here, and get a good feel for this place. You're always welcome here, my friend.”

  He extended a hand, and I reluctantly shook it.

  “And when you do return to the governor, please give him a message for me,” Andy said. “Tell him that I will say no to the money, but I would like to give him a list of demands.” He reached into a pocket and handed me a sheet of paper with a list of various orders, calling for the unification of the two races. “Change is coming, Quincy. Imagine humanity living in a world where there is no divide between the two races.” I slipped the paper into a pocket.

  There was no way the governor would even consider assisting the resistance. If anything, the governor would massacre the all of them.

  “Sure, I’ll give him the demands,” I said.

  Andy smiled. “Thank you, my friend.” He walked over to his desk and scooped a small picture-frame into his hand. He revealed the picture to me. There was Andy, who stood next to a beautiful brown-haired woman and a small blond child.

  “And again,” he said. “I really do want you to consider joining our cause. I know there’s a good person inside of you.” He paused for a moment. “That’s my wife and my son. They never asked for any of this. They never asked to live a life of oppression. None of us did. These are the people that we are protesting for, Quincy.”

  I wanted to look away. This photo of a happy, smiling family made me quiver with rage.

  “What are you fighting for, Quincy?”

  I stared at him silently.

  The door burst open and a pair of thick women walked into the room. Andy quickly shuffled the photo back onto his desk.

  “Andy, some of our people have been shot by those pigs,” said one of them. “Those bastards killed 'em! I ain't gonna stand around here and wait for them to slaughter us.”

  “This is war!” the other woman screamed.

  “Quincy, my friend, it was a pleasure, but I need to speak to them alone,” said Andy.

 
; “Very well,” I said as I turned to the door. “I think we’re done here, anyway.”

  I left the small building and started walking back.

  As I crossed the lot, I glanced over at the clusters of Commoners who all glared at me like the outsider that I was. Despite their resentment for me, they wouldn't risk a fight breaking out on their own turf, not unless I instigated it. I was a pawn of the Elites, after all. If they attacked me, a war could easily break out.

  I stepped past a middle-aged man with puffy red hair. He held a drone in his hands. The robot flew up into the air, glaring at me with its sharp red eye. I stared up at the drone, locking eyes with it, almost like I was staring it down.

  “Can I help you?” the man snarled.

  I turned around to him. He was shirtless, exposing his thick chest and bulging gut. A curly layer of frizzy red hair covered his bulky stomach. He stared at me with a dangling, dead right eye, and a bloodshot left eye.

  “I'm just walking through,” I said.

  “Quincy Abrams,” he muttered while scrunching his face. “Leave, traitor!” He pointed a finger at me. “You ain't welcome here.”

  “I don't have time for this,” I grunted, as I turned away from him.

  “Hey, hey,” he said. “I know you're probably working with the Elites, huh? Those bastards will get what's comin', I tell you! So, you spyin' for 'em?”

  I rolled my eyes and stepped up to him. Sure, I guess I was a spy, but I hated this man's accusatory nature. I shrugged. “I guess it's true what they say,” I said.

  “Commoners aren't known for their hospitality.”

  “You didn't answer my question.”

  “I'm not a spy. Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit what you do here.”

  He released a harsh grunt. “You talk with the boss?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And I didn't expect his plan to be no better than sitting around, singing songs.”

  “That's not how you get change in this city. You get a revolution through blood. Peace gets you nowhere. Andy doesn't see that. I see that. We gotta kill those Elites. We gotta take 'em down, one by one.” He held his hands up, shaking them in the air. “I'll murder them all with my own hands if I gotta! Us common folk are gonna rule this city atop their fuckin' corpses.”

  I was sure that many of the other Commoners agreed with this man's predisposition toward violence. Commoners weren't known for their tranquility. Mattis told me, time after time, that Commoners are subhuman. I was always surprised that Mattis almost treated me like I was one of his fellow Elites. Then again, I didn't know if he treated me like a friend or his favorite pet.

  “Do a lot of the others share your views?” I asked. “A lot of us. We’re getting sick of Andy's bullshit leadership. We want change! We will get change! He ain't givin' us shit. Sitting around, holding signs ain't gonna do shit. He needs to get that through his fucking head.”

  It was just as I expected. I knew that this movement would crash and burn. It was a disjointed mess. It wouldn't take long before they started warring against each other. Mattis had nothing to worry about. These protesters were a joke.

  “How do you plan on doing that?” I asked.

  “He'll see soon enough.” The man spat on the ground behind him. “I'll make him see the right way. Now, get lost, traitor. I don't care what Andy says. You ain't welcome here!” A young woman with curly blonde hair walked up to him.

  “Max,” she said. “You need to relax.”

  “I just don't like traitors comin' around here. He needs to leave before he starts somethin' ugly.”

  The woman sighed and turned to me. “You really should leave. I'm sorry, but it's for the best.”

  “That's fine,” I said, shrugging. “I didn't want to stay too long, anyway.”

  With that, I nodded and headed back to my sedan and traveled to my office.

  After parking on the side of the road, I scurried up several flights until I reached my office. I slammed my key into the lock and turned the brass handle. My office was small and slightly cramped, but quaint. Dozens of steel filing cabinets filled the opposing wall. I crossed over to my desk and nestled into my velvety maroon chair. I enjoyed being comfortable while being harassed by my clients.

  I came here to review an old file of mine. Sometimes, I thought that if I studied that file one more time, I'd finally be able to find her. Maybe she was still alive somewhere in the city. Maybe she was out there, still begging for me to save her.

  I sat there, sighing. I turned my head to the right and opened a cabinet. I fingered a folder and laid it out on my desk. I could still see her smile whenever I closed my eyes. I could hear her soft voice and her cute little giggles. She was so full of life back then. I was so full of life back then. I missed my daughter so much. I wished that I could find whoever stole her from me. I wished that I could have saved her. Then again, it had been over a year now. I knew my daughter, Anna, was out there somewhere. If I could just look through the clues several more times, I could find something, some clue that could lead me to her. My daughter was still somewhere in this city. I knew it. She was alive, somewhere. She had to be. I was going to save my daughter.

  There I was, sitting at my desk, flipping through page after page, looking for something that could help me find my daughter. There were pictures of her in her scarlet dress, smiling next to me. I touched a finger to the pictures and sighed. I flipped to the next page to glance through more data.

  She was last seen at Wilbur Creek Academy. According to my records, many witnesses saw an unmarked white sedan parked outside the school that day. When I interrogated Anna's teacher, he told me that he didn't know anything. At least that's what the teacher said, but I sensed he was lying. I always knew when someone was lying. No matter what I did to him, I couldn't make him spill the truth.

  My office door swung open. Quickly, I slid the folder back into my desk and glanced up at a frazzled woman with curly brown hair. Gray, stain-splotched rags draped off her body. Who did she think she was? There was no way she had enough money for my services.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Y-you're Quincy Abrams,” she said. “Right?”

  I sneered. “What the fuck gave it away? The sign outside my office?”

  She paused and slowly nodded as she shut the door behind her. “I want your help, sir. You see, my husband. He was murdered. I want you to help me find his killer. He’s still out there, somewhere, and the cops don't give a damn about some Commoner.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And neither do I. A guy's got to make a living, and you're not worth my time.”

  She furrowed her brows and shook her head. “How dare you, sir! My husband was murdered. Show some respect!”

  I wouldn't have this. Nobody disrespects me like this, not in my office. “If I lowered myself to solve every murder of a Commoner in this city, I would never get any goddamn sleep. Nobody cares about a Commoner, not unless they happen to have some money, which you don't. Now, go. You're wasting your time here.”

  She stomped forward. “Please, listen to me. You have to” I rose and shook my head. “I don't have to do anything. Commoners get shot daily, go missing, get raped. I can't afford to go after every single bad thing that happens to a Commoner. I say you just go home and thank your God that you're still alive.”

  She froze, staring right into my eyes. I didn't know how many times I had to tell her no, but my answer was final. She didn't have the money for my services. She was probably lucky to afford enough food for a day.

  “And what if his killer comes back for me?” she asked. “He'll murder me, too.”

  “Then you better learn how to protect yourself,” I said, shrugging.

  “You bastard!” she proclaimed. “So, it's true what they say.”

  I knew what they said. Everyone talked about how I was a traitor to my people and about how I was just an Elite puppet. Well, I couldn't argue with either of those sentiments. I also didn't care what the Commoners said about me.
They could continue to spew their petty remarks as they lived their petty lives in the shithole of town.

  “Is that it?” I asked. She remained silent. “Yeah, good.

  Now, can you just leave? I've got some work to do.”

  She turned toward the door and froze. What was she waiting for?

  “I said 'leave’, this is my office.”

  She shook her head silently and walked off, slamming the door behind her.

  I cursed and leaned back in my chair. For a while, I just sat there thinking about Anna. I wondered where she was. I wondered if she had forgotten about me because I sure hadn't forgotten about her. I leaned forward and stared at the wall in front of me.

  I kept thinking back to those days when I lost her. I tried to find her, but the search left me spiraling down in circles. For months, I would search for her every day. She had to be somewhere in the city. I had to be missing something. She was out there, somewhere.

  I spent months getting nowhere. My mind kept replaying the events of her disappearance, over and over. If I had just done something different, then maybe I would still have her. I was working late on one of Mattis' jobs that day, so I couldn't pick her up when I normally did.

  I remembered driving up to the school, but she wasn't there. I ran through the school, screaming her name, but she wasn't there. I screamed and shouted at the academy's administration, but that didn't help anything. I ran through the streets, calling her name, but she wasn't there.

  I was a failure. I'd lost my only daughter. Shortly before my wife Alice passed away, I made a promise. I told my wife I'd do whatever necessary to keep our daughter safe. I failed. It seemed like I failed at most things in my life, aside from killing people for Mattis. Maybe, all I was good at was taking lives.

  I turned to the photo of Anna. I touched the picture and softly cried. Then I flipped back through the files. I looked at everything I could, anything that could help me find her.

  I remembered trying to get Mattis to help me, but he had other obligations. I should've known better, anyway. I was just a Commoner. Why would he help me?