Rage: A Story of Survival Read online

  I agree with most points in the system. It’s proved far more effective than the one we had before. The only aspect I find hard to cope with is the executions. Although they’re rare, they don’t sit right with me. I never believed in the death penalty before the power went out, but I understand why it has to be done. The people sentenced to death are on destructive paths. They would only terrorize others if banished. Some people won’t learn, but I’m not sure death is the best option. No man should play God.

  The fear of dictatorship also worries me. Our town is currently running without solid leadership or a solid political system. The death penalty under the wrong leader could create a violent dictatorship. A dictatorship would threaten the cooperation and prosperity we currently enjoy. Without any power to change anything at the moment, though, I’m forced to put my worries to the side.

  Weeks turn into months, and a democratic system emerges, staving off my fears of a dictatorship. So much else changes in this time as well. There’s still no power on the grid, but it’s possible to live in relative comfort. Since we live in the Midwest, there’s enough corn and pigs available to make it through a few winters.

  We were also lucky that the power went out right after crops were planted. This ensures we will have abundant food in a few months.

  My primary concern is after winter. Sure, there’s plenty of arable land, but it’s been a long time since people farmed by hand. Many fields have already been left to themselves. Without the large combines and other modern farming machines, the land is too much to manage.

  My other concern is the lack of an economy. Right now, our town is doing well, sharing what we have, but I doubt that will last forever. Eventually, an economy will arise, and I’m worried about what will replace the dollar.

  My thoughts return to the present when I hear someone hollering outside my office. Yelling is nothing unusual at the Mission Center. The kids are always pretty loud when they’re on the play equipment. Wanting a break, I decide to investigate who’s making the ruckus.

  The sense of community and the kids are why I enjoy working here. I love the children and the way they’ve adapted. Of course, they miss power like the rest of us, but they don’t show it as much. They’re happy to enjoy life, and I find their outlook invigorating.

  Unfortunately, because of the number of children and staff here, I rarely interact with the kids on a one-on-one basis. The daily tasks and organization of staff keep me too busy. If I could, I would gladly step down from the responsibility. Even when I tried to pass the mantle, those around me pushed me to keep it.

  As I go outside, I see the children playing on the equipment. Smiling, I sit on a nearby bench, happy to take a break and watch the children play. After I watch for a few minutes, my tensions fade away.

  When I’m about to get up, I notice one of the children sitting next to me. At first, I’m startled since I didn’t see her get there, but I decide to say hello.

  “Well hello, why aren’t you playing with the others?”

  The girl looks at me and smiles sweetly. “My mom sent me with cookies. She told me to share with the adults.”

  Without another word, the girl hops off the bench and pulls a backpack off and rummages inside it. After a second, she pulls out a metal container and opens it.

  “Only take one, though, okay?”

  I look at the girl; she can’t be older than seven or eight. She has a big smile as I reach into the container and take a cookie. She closes the container and watches me. Realizing she’s waiting for me to take a bite, I do so. The cookie is oatmeal and chocolate and I’m surprised at how good it is. Amazed, I ask myself how this girl’s mother managed to make these.

  “These are very good. Be sure to thank your mom, okay, sweetheart?”

  The little girl gives me a toothy grin, then nods before putting the container back into her bag and running off.

  As I finish my cookie, I savor each bite, doubting I’ll ever have anything like this again. The thought that this might be the last cookie I ever eat is a sobering one. Things like oats and chocolate won’t last much longer, and when they run out, I’m afraid that food will become much more basic and bland.

  Lost in my thoughts, I walk to my office and sit in my chair, letting myself daydream about things that will change in the coming months. I’m stunned when my door crashes open. All I can do is stare blankly at it. In the doorway, a man stands, holding one of my workers hostage. He has a knife held against her throat. His right arm dangles against his side.

  “There you are, Jason. How have you been? I myself have been lying in a bed, trying not to die. Thanks to you cocksuckers, I lost the use of my right arm! You fucked me up! Now it’s your turn, you piece of shit!”

  That’s when I remember him as the man who tried to pull a knife on me. The bones in his right arm must have been broken and never reset.

  “You’re going to tell me where the man who did this to me is. Then no one but you will die. Shit, I’ll even make your death quick.”

  His words come out erratically, and I can tell he’s in a frantic state of mind.

  Holding up my hands, I stand. “Alright, I can take you to Aaron, but only on one condition: you let the woman you’re holding go and take me hostage instead. Don’t worry: I’m unarmed, and you have a knife. I won’t resist.” The man looks at me, and I can tell he’s thinking about my proposal. Fear fills me since I’m not sure he’ll accept it.

  “Fine!” He shoves the woman away from him. That was the last thing I expected him to do. Until this point, I was planning on going with him. But now that he’s left himself exposed, my plan changes. Reaching behind my back, I pull a gun from my holster.

  At first, I argued about having a gun in my possession, but now I’m glad to have one. My only wish now is that I’d learned how to use it. Luckily, I know enough to click the safety off and chamber a round. The man looks betrayed and furious as I aim the gun at him. He starts to move toward me as I squeeze the trigger. The gun cracks and forces me to blink. As I look to my target, I find him on his knees and holding his stomach in a grimace of pain. He falls to the floor face-first, and somehow, I know he is dead.

  For a brief second, everything seems alright—that’s until I hear a strange choking sound coming from right outside my office. Wanting to know what it is, I scramble around the man who’s bleeding out on the floor. The woman he held hostage earlier is screaming in the corner. Ignoring her, I open the door to the office. The door hits something, and I have to squeeze my way through it. When I look to see what was blocking the door, I see a little girl lying on the ground, blood pouring from her neck. In her arms is a tin of oatmeal and chocolate cookies.

  The bullet—my bullet—must have hit her. Dropping the gun, I go to her side to try and stop the bleeding. Her eyes look at me and I can see she is confused and in pain. The blood is flowing too fast and I can’t stop it. Tears fall from my eyes as I watch the life fade from hers.

  “This was done by me.” How could I think I could save others by stopping the man? I was wrong.

  “Carla… who…? What happened?” Looking up, I see who I presume is the girl’s mother. She sees my hands against the girl’s neck, blood covering the floor and a gun by my side. Her screams of agony hurt me more than any words ever could.

  Wanting to explain, I try to stand up. Before I can, the woman shoves me. Losing my balance, I collapse to the ground.

  “You bastard! You killed my baby. You killed her.”

  The woman screams as she kicks me in the stomach. Her anger is blameless. She’s right—I did this. Once again, I try to get up, but I feel a sharp kick to my throat. When I try to speak, I can’t. Others are inside as well now, drawn by the sound of my gun. “He killed my daughter!” the woman screams.

  When I try to say something, I only wheeze. For the last time, I try to stand, but an unseen foot strikes me down. What were a few weak kicks a second ago turn into a frenzied mob attack. Someone kicks me in the head, and my vis
ion starts to fade. The last thing I see is my blood-covered hands. My only thought is whether the blood is the girl’s or mine

  .

  Chapter 3: Aaron

  May 10th

  “Put your hands up or I’ll shoot!” My voice echoes off the walls of the narrow alley as I shout at the man. He’s about ten feet in front of me, and all I can see is his back and arms. In front of the man is a pile of people who are ripped apart. My stomach churns, and I have to force myself not to throw up. The man turns, and I see his face twisted in a sick smile. Blood drips from his lips and chin. His blood-red eyes burn into me with an inhuman rage.

  “We’re coming for you, Aaron.” As the man speaks, bits of flesh fall from his mouth. I lose control of my stomach and throw up. Before I recover, my legs are swept out from under me, and I land hard on my back. I try to sit up, but before I can, something heavy slams into my chest. As my eyes focus, I see a grotesque creature of a man bent over me, his knee digging into my chest. Two pale hands wrap around my neck.

  “Why run, Aaron? There is no escaping me.” My vision starts to fade. I’m dying. I make one final attempt and throw myself forward. The man strangling me vanishes as I jerk up. My movement halts, ending in a sharp pain in my head.

  My hand moves toward my head, but it hits something flat above me. As my vision clears, I realize I was dreaming and that I rammed my head into the ceiling. Before I can think about the dream or the pain in my head, I’m startled to hear someone speak to me.

  “Hey, Aaron, are you alright? You scared the crap out of me.” I turn and look down to see my friend Jason standing at the side of my loft bed.

  “Jason, what are you doing here?”

  “Man, you must have hit your head harder than I thought. Don’t you remember? We stayed the night here.”

  Jason’s remarks remind me that he and my friend Luke stayed at my house last night. “Yeah, I remember. You, Luke, and I were supposed to hang out today. Sorry about startling you. I just had a nightmare.”

  Jason’s face grows somber, and he nods. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  I still have no idea what happened to Jason after the power went out two months ago. My department at the police station didn’t handle it. The officers who did take care of it decided it was best to keep the details private. All I could find out was that a few people died.

  It took about two months for Jason’s physical injuries to heal after whatever happened. The same can’t be said for his mental state. He seems to be withholding something, and I can tell that his psyche is still pretty banged up. Part of the reason I wanted to hang out today was to cheer him up. I was hoping that if we hung out like we used to, he would recover a little.

  “Wait a second, Jason. Where’s Luke? Did he leave already?”

  Jason looks at me, and I’m surprised to see him smile. “Oh, him? He’s still asleep.”

  I laugh and move to get out of my loft bed. Sure enough, I find my friend Luke sleeping on the futon under my loft. “I know better than try to wake him up,” I say. “He won’t get up until he’s ready. Tell you what: I’m going to shower. You can go after. If Luke still hasn’t woken up by then, I suppose we’ll throw him into the shower to wake him.”

  Jason smiles for the second time, and I’m glad to see him do so. “Sounds like a plan. Only problem is, now I hope he doesn’t wake up.”

  Chuckling, I grab a change of clothes and make my way into the bathroom. Our area of town still has water thanks to Jason’s quick thinking and leadership when the power first went out. The only downside is that, without power, all the water is cold, even in the middle of the afternoon. When our solar water heater is absorbing the sun, the water comes out mildly warm.

  I know from experience that it’s too early for warm water. After preparing myself, I turn the shower on and shudder as the cold water sprays onto my back. I scrub myself down with homemade soap, washing my body and hair and trying to be fast.

  Even after six months of cold showers, I still find the experience awful. Luke better wake up before it’s his turn. I can’t think of a worse way to wake up than getting hit by a freezing blast of water. When I’m done with my shower, I head to my room to find Luke wide awake. I leave Jason and Luke to shower and head into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

  Most of the morning is spent inside my house. Without electricity, we entertain ourselves with a few board games. After a while, we find ourselves itching to move around. Around what I would guess to be three in the afternoon, we decide to go to the park not far from my house. We mess around in attempts at parkour—running, jumping, and climbing around the equipment. We would all parkour like this before the power outage, but since then, we’ve gotten much better at it.

  The lack of power has forced everyone to do more physical labor. These everyday tasks have sculpted my body, and I’m in better shape now than I’ve ever been.

  I finished a difficult parkour trick involving jumping a large gap and rolling to a stop. Excited by my success, I jump up and look to my friends for praise. I find their focus locked onto something else out of my field of sight. I turn toward whatever they’re watching, and I see a man walking down the street and staring at us.

  The man picks up his pace and starts running toward us. As he gets closer, I notice that his skin is unnaturally pale. Glancing behind me, I see that both Jason and Luke are as tense as I am. The pale skin of the man reminds me of my dream. Shivers crawl up my spine as I decide to go to the highest point of the playground. My friends follow me. I can only hope that we’ll be safe up here.

  Things have been peaceful for the past few months, but part of being in a powerless world is being ready for things to go wrong. Of course, there are still some thugs that disturb the peace on occasion. Anyone willing to go outside understands that and is usually prepared to deal with them. The man gets to the playground and steps onto the wood chips. I put my hand on the gun in my holster in case he tries to attack. The man comes to a stop and stares at us with murderous intent.

  “Run! Run for your lives. They’re coming.” The man is hysterical, and I start to think we’ll have to scare him off. My hand draws the pistol from its holster. The man stares at my gun and looks angry, but I can tell he won’t come closer.

  “Why don’t you take a breather and tell me what’s going on?” I say.

  Tears spring into the man’s eyes and he crouches into a ball, covering his face in the fetal position. The sudden change from murderous rage to helpless catches me off guard. “They’re coming. You must run! They attacked me! They are so pale! Their eyes burn like fire! Dark blood running red! Their teeth seared into my flesh! I’m dirty, unclean!”

  The man rises and starts moving toward us. I aim my gun at him and flip the safety off. He stops and falls to his knees, laughing. This man is clearly schizophrenic. The medication to treat these disorders is long gone, and I can only pity the man. Not wanting to shoot him, I decide to holster my pistol and approach him, making sure to do so slowly.

  As I get closer to him, he jerks his head toward me. For the first time, I have a clear look into his eyes. A web of spidery red veins weaves all over his irises, giving the illusion of blood-red eyes. His pupils are far too large for the sunny day, and I begin to think he’s tripping on something.

  His eyes remind me of the creature in my dream. A pressure pushes onto my chest, almost like an invisible knee pinned against me. A sense of foreboding enters me, and I’m sure that I’m about to be attacked. Before my premonition can come true, I see a tree branch swinging toward the man from the corner of my eye.

  The branch hits the man hard, and he falls. When I get closer, it looks like the man is unconscious, though his eyes remain wide open in a look of fear. Jason stands beside me, still holding the branch. Somehow, I know that he saved me from a horrible fate. Pushing the foolish feelings aside, I tell myself to be rational. Memories of my dream attempt to haunt me, but I push them away.

  Checking the man’s pulse, I find
him alive. Unsure of what to do, I pat him down but find no weapons. The man appears to have nothing on him but his clothes. Luke, Jason, and I talk about what to do. We decide to leave him here. He’ll likely wake up and be on his way. Though he might be crazy, there’s no reason to try to do anything, and killing him would be wrong.

  With the fun of the playground spoiled, we decide to go back to my house. When we arrive, I warn my parents about what we saw. They share my concern but agree that leaving the man was for the best.

  Jason, Luke, and I don’t let it dampen our spirits, and we decide to get on with the day. After some discussion on what to do next, we settle on playing a card game in my room. After a frustrating round of squinting at the cards in the dim dusk lighting, we decide to put the cards away. It’s in the middle of doing so that we freeze when something slams into my window.

  “What the hell was that?” Luke says, speaking the thought we all have.

  When I look toward the window, I see the pale outline of a man. Focusing on his face, I notice that it’s the same man we saw at the park earlier today.

  “How the hell did he find us?” Jason mutters in shock.

  My mind is racing, trying to understand what’s going on, when the man throws his face into my window again. I pull my gun out of the holster and aim it at him for the second time today.

  “Leave now, or I’ll shoot.” The man shows no signs of understanding me, and he slams his head into the glass again. I’ve never shot a person before, and I’m debating if I’ll have to when I hear a scream coming from the other room. When I look away, I hear glass shatter, and pieces of it hit me in the back. It’s only a matter of time before the man comes through. Not wanting to shoot him, I back out of my room. Jason and Luke are following behind me. I get a final look at the man struggling to climb through the window. He’s oblivious to the remaining shards of glass cutting into him.