End of the Road
Chris looked out over the overgrown city of New York from an abandoned condo of a time before. When the streets were bustling with cars and the lights of New York never dimmed. Now it was all gone. A city only illuminated by torches, candles, and the beautiful clash of the Aurora Borealis. The power of electricity was lost in a blanket of radiation due to a world-class launch of Castle Bravos detonating above the Kármán line. So why didn’t anyone try to stop it? No one was alive in power that could.
Chris smiled. It was all according to the plan.
He was tired from the endless slog of a repeated society with the rich always getting richer while the poor live off the scraps and gifts, for a price, from the powerful. Corporations and governments ruled the masses, telling them what to buy, what to eat, how to get fit, and how to live. Mindless drones growing up, getting married, having kids, and teaching their offspring how to live a drone life like them.
Chris scoffed at his old ways. He was no longer a drone but a liberated soul. Free from the grasp of his true enemy. The greed of the human soul or what he called capitalism. A little on the nose for some, but it is better for him to call it what it was.
With it gone, along with the use of technology, everyone was now back on an equal playing field. No one was better than anyone else. In order to survive this new world, they would need to work together. “The masses don’t know what they want until you show them what they really need. Only then will they understand,” he said, placing his hands into his brown overcoat pockets. Winter was coming.
Chris turned away from the window, walking through the mess of broken glass and wood. It was damp from the rain leaving blotches on the ceiling and streaks on the walls. On the countertop of the kitchen, just a little way from the door, was a newspaper. A relic of the time even before Chris’ plan went to action. The front page read “World in Turmoil. Governments Murdered.” The date was December 25th, 2021. Thirty years ago.
It wasn’t a peaceful time for the inhabitants of earth. They woke up that Christmas day with the governments, politicians, and corporate leaders dead in their beds, offices, or galas. Killed simultaneously all over the world. A task that could only have been done with an organized group of likeminded individuals that wished to make the world a better place. Or at least they thought. Chris shook his head, his eyes only seeing his achievement as a dark day with a small light at the end of a tunnel for him. He headed out of the condo, floating over the rest of the garbage on the floor.
In the event that his plan succeeded, in which it did, Chris knew that he couldn’t let his team continue to live. The possibility that they would take the place of those they had executed was a large shadow. Even if they understood that a peaceful world is a world without government, the risk of one of them convincing the rest to take up the mantle of leader was something that Chris couldn’t let happen. So, he executed his team as well. An easier job since they all had an explosive device embedded in their necks. A morally dark choice because it only spawned more deaths. None of the team knew that they had been tagged, with Chris holding the kill switch all he had to do was flick it. He wondered what their last thoughts before their lives were snuffed out at once or did it bounce off the satellite in a way that the bombs went off one by one. For the medical team that helped to implant the devices in Chris’ so-called heroes, they too lost their lives. Chris’ hands were soaked in the blood of necessary kills, or at least that’s what he told himself. It helped him sleep at night, and there was very little of that.
1
The outside of the condo building was a peculiar scene. One that Chris could pick out from his favorite movie; I am Legend. With him taking the role of Will Smith. “I am now the legend,” he said, grinning before remembering the deaths. The world wanted answers, but they couldn’t find who was at fault. They had gotten as far as pinning down the rebel group but didn’t have a name. No one was alive for them to tell. It would be a lie to say that Chris didn’t relish in the fact that he saved the world. It helped raise his spirits just a little.
“Morning, Chris,” said a woman raising the metal grate to her shop. She wasn’t selling anything. But, of course, Chris made sure of that. For years he was spreading the idea that they needed to band together as equals. There was no monetary gain anymore; the dollar was, in fact, worthless. Sharing was the new way. He appealed to their better nature, showing the faults of the old ways. At first the people were suspicious of him, but soon he gained followers, then apostles that he sent out towards the world to share the good news. His ideology was spreading like wildfire and soon everyone was living their true life.
“Morning, Hidea. How’re the flowers?”
“They’re great.”
Chris noticed a pair of emerald earrings hanging from her ears. He hadn’t seen her wear them before. She wasn’t allowed to wear such things; it was forbidden. A commandment to bar them from turning back to their selfish ways. Showing off wealth only created jealousy. Hidea knew the rules. “That’s a fancy pair of earrings you have there.”
“Oh, these — ,” stuttered Hidea removing her earrings. “Just something I found lying around. I thought it would look good on me.”
“Just be careful. We don’t want to go back to the days when we all struggled.”
“Of course not, Chris.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. A tinge of wanting to go back to luxurious days. Chris put that thought of her betrayal behind him.
“Chris,” yelled a boy rushing up to the old man. He was Thomas, and teenager that Chris had raised since his father had died from a terrible accident. “We got a problem!”
“What is it,” asked Chris waving goodbye to Hidea and pulling Thomas back where he came.
“Murder.”
“Again?”
Thomas nodded. “This time, it was Mister Banks and Mister Reed.”
Chris moved quickly through the streets of New York, letting Thomas guide him through the farm alleyways with fruits and vegetables climbing up to the tops of the apartment buildings. Through abandoned pharmacies with empty shelves and expired protein shakes that will never be restocked.
It was a marvel to see how the world had devolved these past thirty years. A paradise on a planet that was steeped in the corruption of mankind, now liberated. “Do you remember my teachings, boy?” Asked Chris.
“Always, teacher.”
“What is a human’s purpose?”
“T-to battle against our capitalistic greed. A force that would devour our world’s resources ending life on this planet and for future planets. Humans have this greed that we can’t get rid of by wits and wills.”
“It can only be curbed, my dear boy. Deep meditation and selflessness. This is what separates us from the animals. We have the mind to guide ourselves. Though some…” said Chris glancing over to a couple boys fighting. Their fists pounding into each other in sense of rhythm, drawing blood onto the brown grass with each beat. One of the ruffians noticed Chris and immediately broke up the fight. They nodded and ran off. “…Have a harder time doing that.”
“If only everyone thought as such.”
“Everyone does. What else is there left in this world? Power is useless here. Some savior or demon had made sure of that,” chuckled Chris.
“May I speak freely, sir,” asked Thomas as they finally reached their destination. The two bodies of Mister Banks and Mister Reed were covered in a tarp. Chris quickly approached the two, lifting the sheets to see what was underneath. “Right, let’s do this first.”
From the wounds, Chris could piece together that the murder was planned.
2
Mister Banks had a small tomato farm just down the way from the crime scene. He was an older fellow who kept to himself. Before the world became broken, he was a teller at a bank, thus is where he got his name. His family was that of bankers, and it was only understandable that Mister Banks would end up working at a bank. With money being useless pieces of paper and the credit that people had on the servers were gone in a blink of an eye. The generations of bankers ended with him, gone in a pile of fire. He was hammered with hate and faults. How could he have known that when the bombs blew up in the skies that their smartphones would explode in their hands? Without purpose, he found joy in tomatoes. Yet where does Mister Reed come into play?
Mister Reed owns a bookstore just across from where Mister Banks was living. Mister Reed was a teacher, and his wife had owned the bookstore. It was his misfortune that she died due to her pacemaker rupturing her heart. He left the teaching behind because there was nothing worth teaching anymore. It was all useless in this day and age. Only math mattered. Since no one bothered to make use of Science, History, or even English it was not worth teaching the next generation. Most youths found work with their hands and didn’t care to study topics that only reminded them of the past.
Mister Banks and Mister Reed found a unique companionship. Bank would bring tomatoes to his friend and Reed would offer a new book from him to read. They would spend countless hours of their days talking about the time before the world was broken. Banks would discuss banking terms and how money flowed and swam through the hands of investors and daredevils. How even then the state of the world was as fragile as a thread of spider silk.
Reed found their talks informative. Even though he never cared much about money, only when it came to paying his rent and utilities. He found joy in discussing the human mind and old philosophies of the past. Mister Banks also enjoyed these talks. They both had jobs that involved meeting new people every day and observing them over long periods of time.
These talks would only fade with time as decades went by and every day across the street a chance of change made their heartbeat. Thump.
3
Chris noticed that Mister Banks had a wrench rammed into his head while Reed had a knife in his heart. But it was in the hands of Mister Banks that Chris noticed, covered in blood, an emerald necklace. “Now, where have I seen that before,” he said. He glanced around the small crowd that had gathered to see what the verdict was on the bodies. It reminded him of the drones that had once plagued the land before the world broke. People coming only to see but not care.
Between the crowds, Chris noticed a jewelry store and rushed over to it. The drones staggered out of the way as Chris stood in front of the old jewelry shop. The windows were broken, and the door was rammed off its hinges. There was no need for the people of the new world to break into such a place. He knew the shop well. A month ago, the windows were still intact, and the door was shut tight. Only dust lay inside the jewel tomb. Then it dawned on him. Mister Banks’ house was right next door, while Mister Reed’s was across the street.
They had broken into the shop. Like thieves, they gathered the jewels into bags and took them back to their houses. With these precious stones… Chris glanced back over to the crowd. Their clothes were cleaner. He started to notice the rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings studded in gems that hung from their bodies. Almost in unison, the people began to hide their jewelry as Chris’ face morphed its wrinkles into a look of fear.
Thomas placed his hand on Chris’ back. “That savior or demon you talked about before only delayed the inevitable, sir. I think this is just who we are.” Chris could feel their greedy gaze on him. They were no longer humans but greed in human sacks. How easily have they tossed what he has taught them? As easy as it was to flick the switch on his friends.
In an unholy ceremony, Banks and Reed had revived the very thing he was trying to destroy. The people of New York were no longer sharing their gifts but selling them. Bartering jewels for food and resources. It wouldn’t be long before the streets would be barred off from specific individuals who couldn’t pay. Business would once again thrive, and the people of the world would once again be merchants. Merchants with knives. Banks and Reed died due to their own greed, but in their death, only damned the city.
“Begone,” Chris yelled. “Begone, you demons! Out of my sight!” His hand flailing about shooing the people away. Awkwardly the people did just that confused by the old man’s outrage. Unknown to them of the sin they have committed. Chris fell to his knees, his tears bubbling as they flowed rapidly down his face blurring his vision and soaking his hands. He cried and cried and cried like a boy who lost all things precious. “I-I-I-I thought I had saved us. We had conquered that evil urge in our hearts. The world was saved.”
“Saved?” Questioned Thomas. “Sir, this has been happening all over the world. I don’t know what made you think you could stop everyone from bartering with each other. People wish to be paid for their work. No one wants their worth to be trampled on. While you celebrate the world that you think you’ve saved. We’ve been hiding the truth from you, afraid of hurting you. I know how much you wished for us to live like you had commanded, but why should we listen to you? I don’t want to deny myself from the freedom that I have, just because you were afraid of people capitalizing on opportunity.” The boy pulled out an emerald pendant and tossed it into the air, and let it drop back into his hand. “The strong will rule over the weak, and the weak will work for the strong. I don’t think greed and capitalism are one and the same. I think opportunity breeds capitalism, and greed is just the little brother following behind.”
“You all are a virus. A disease with no cure.”
“We? You’re the one that ruined this world.”
Chris looked up at the boy, surprised. No one knew who ruined the world. There was no one left around to point him out. “How?”
“You just told me. I had a theory that it might be you. I think most people suspected you, though it’s all very hard to believe. Yet you came when the riots ended, bringing word of a new world free from greed.”
“You weren’t even born then.”
“My father was! He was a firm believer in what you taught, and that got him killed! Because no one gives a shit about what you teach! No one cares about this peace! Everyone only cares about getting what they want. And if someone can give them what they want? You bet their bottom dollar they’ll spend it, and someone is going to get rich. I want to be that person so that no one else will die like my father,” said the boy smiling. “See you around — ”
Chris snatched the boy by back his neck. Thomas struggled to get away, but old Chris only tightened his grip. There was an inhuman strength in him that was unaffected by the boy’s struggle. Chris dragged him towards the jewelry shop window. A jagged glass shard was sticking upright from the bottom pane. “I will not make the lives that have been sacrificed for this world go in vain! If more needs to be taken for our world to be free from this virus, then I will gladly be the vaccine.”
“You’re a monster! You ruined the sky and killed hundreds that needed the help. Just because of your stupid ideology.”
“Hmm. So, I did,” said Chris, and he slammed the boy’s face through the glass. The body went limp. Chris turned from him and found a couple stragglers watching this scene unfold from a safe distance. “I was naïve. These people are sick. Let me cure you of your greed.”
