The Fall Of Man

The Fall of Man

By, Andrew Johnson

Chapter 1

            My name is, Felix Truth, but the code that I am supposed to go by is, 5739C which stands for five thousand thirty ninth in C division. I don’t have many memories regarding my child hood because of the terrible day in age that I was born. When I was born my dad tried to take me away from the potential danger that the more violent anarchists were causing against government officials. They were using a home made concoction of napalm made from Styrofoam and gasoline. Today, I am going to meet with one of them.                

Walking down this rather narrow, bleak, white hallway people passed without words only silence. After making a right turn at the end of this hallway, I could finally hear the faint humming sound of the grav-train or, Gravity Train. I came to a halt before stepping onto the rather high platform to enter. I just stood there, looking at it. “Dang, wretched machine...” I have a want for a simpler time where grass and trees were abundant and you could feel the air on your face, instead of having to wear this sterile suit that clings to you like a second skin.  And from behind me I heard, “Move, along” I turned to see that it was an IG or International Guard. So I stepped into the grav-train and calmly sat myself upon the plain white seat.

                After taking a glance around the grav-train I saw that only two other people were in the same cabin as me. Sitting together, they must have been at least a foot apart I thought; otherwise those IGs standing by the door would warn them and tell them to get away from each other.  

                “He, he” Oh no I thought. I looked back only to see the two people. It was obvious they had not been taking their Senzaemozione. The IGs that had been standing by the door rushed in on them and took them to the back of the train to containment cells where they could be held until their so called “trial” for sense-offending.

Senzaemozione is a medicine that takes away the need for emotion like salt peter takes away the want for sexual activity. Years ago a peace treaty was signed that stated, “Any war, emotion, religion, or anarchy is punishable by death.” And since then the people who wished to remain alive have been taking it. As for me, I choose not to take mine because of this horrid government oppression that tells us what we have to do and what we have to say.

The grav-train came to a hissing halt and I waited until the doors opened completely to stand up. Walking off of the train I was thinking of where I could be alone and speak to the anarchist that was going to be briefing me on how things are going on the battlefront. There it was. A rather dark alley way with nothing but a garbage bin and a titanium fire escape wriggling its way up the side of the building. I walked steadily up the cramped fire escape reaching into my pocket every so often as if my Holo-Com, or Holographic Communication device, was still safely tucked away at my side. As I reached the spot where I would be talking to the man I look around one last time down both ends of the alley to see if there were any people that could pose a threat.

I hesitantly pulled the Holo-Com out of my pocket and pressed the jutting button on the side of the round object.

                A large screen projected out of it. A screen popped up that asked me if I would like to receive the call coming from the other end. I accepted the call. As soon as the man came on he asked me to check the spot where I was and asked me if I was followed. I told him that I had not been followed. The man blurted, “I hear that your name is Felix.” “Yes that’s right” I replied. “Now before we get started with this let me see your mark.” The mark he was referring to was the tattoo that all of the members of the resistance got and it was hidden on the top of the scalp underneath the hair. I stroked the side of my helmet and the casing around my head slid off. I pulled back my hair and showed it to him.

                “How is the resistance holding up against the global government?” I queried.

                “The International Marines have killed off many of our remaining soldiers.”

                “How many are left?”

                “A few thousand maybe, but more people are being killed by the day.”

                “How about diverting the Senzaemozione to the outside source, how’s that going?”

                “I have to tell you that’s going far better than the dogfights our men have gotten into. Our elite troops are handling that seeing as that’s more important but everyday we get more troops in because someone didn’t get there medicine. That’s what’s so great about diverting it.”

                “Okay, that’s all I need to know for now. I don’t want to stay on the line to long. Over and out.”

                He gave me a salute and right as I turned off the Holo-Com I saw his face turn toward the left side of the alley way. Something was moving down there. I saw a face mask pop out of the entrance. Whoever it was knew they had been seen.

Chapter 2

            I threw the Holo-Com against the ground as hard as possible hoping it would break before jumping off of the first level fire escape. I heard the words, “Don’t Move!” along with the loud bangs of a gun. The sounds seemed to fade away as I was running as fast as I could, looking over my shoulder every few feet to see if I was being chased.

                I ran and I ran until I couldn’t anymore my feet were on fire and my head was pounding. I stooped behind a garbage bin until I saw the IGs at the end of street disappear. I was only a stone throw away from my house. If I could get to it I could grab a few supplies and head for the anarchist outpost outside of town. I bolted toward my door and opened and closed it as fast but as soft as I could so I could avoid a loud bang.

                The sledgehammer in my basement served well in busting down the hollowed wall that had been hiding my stash of things from the early ages, weapons, paintings, music, and such things like that. I found the rather large Bowe knife that had been sitting in the corner gathering dust for some years and there was a .22 rifle in the opposite corner. I had some leftover bullets, about one-hundred and fifty or so, sitting right by.

Moving through all of the historic items I grabbed the .22 and the Bowe knife. Loading the .22 I headed for the back door. I was going to sneak out. As I was hastily striding down the hallway I heard a loud wood splintering crack from behind me, the IGs had found my home. I turned quickly and fired but the bullet had just seemed to bounce off of the IG. The last IG that had come in ran up to me and lifted the butt of his rifle to my face. It was dark...

            I woke up in a rather dark room lit only by the lamp that was covering my eyes. I was unable to see around it. I heard a voice coming from out of the shadows. In a low groggily tone it said, “Good evening Mister Truth. I trust my guards didn’t injure you too badly.” I stayed quiet I didn’t want to say anything to a voice that was not familiar to me. “Mister Truth, I’m not going to lie to you. Either you are going to answer my questions today and die quick and painlessly. Or you can choose to not answer my questions and die slow and painfully. So, which is it, A or B?”

                “I think I’m going to have to go with B.” I said in a sarcastic tone. Suddenly, out of the darkness, a pistol handle whipped across my face causing me to spit on the floor.

                “Hmm sarcasm, a form of wit that is marked by the use of sarcastic language and is intended to make its victim the butt of contempt or ridicule, mostly caused by an emotion. Well, I do rather enjoy a good game Mister Truth. Let’s play a game.”

                “I don’t want to play your games.”

                “Well, you’re going to have to!” said the voice in a raised tone.

                “Anger, a strong feeling of displeasure or hostility.” I said calmly. Again in came the pistol.

“Now, here are the rules of our game” I struggled to somehow swing at the voice but I was tied to a chair. “Every time you lie to me, don’t answer, or answer incorrectly I am going to hit you.”

                “Sound’s somewhat unfair to me.” Another hit across the cheek.

                “We have had a hard time tracking that man that you were speaking to seeing as you destroyed your Holo-Com before running away. Can you tell me where he can be located?”

                “No, even if I knew why would I tell you?” Whack!

                “I can do this all day Mister Truth. But fine if you won’t tell me where to locate him then answer me this: What did he tell you?”

                “I can’t seem to recall, you pistol whips seem to have rattled my memory.”

                “Wise guy huh?”  Whack! “I’m going to sacrifice my pawn in this twisted game of chess and bring out my knight.” After the voice had said those words a light to my right that was darker and flickered came on; it was a fire. I could now faintly see and outline of who had been talking to me. He seemed to be putting an iron rod inside of the fire.

                “Tell me Felix; are you afraid to sacrifice your king? If so I suggest giving me some information.”

                “Never!” I spit in the direction of the shadow. And heard the words, “I do say nice shot but I’m afraid that pawn wasn’t as good as my knight.” The iron rod came out of the fire it glowed bright red. The red hot poker inched closer and closer to my leg. It wasn’t an inch away when a goliath of a bang exploded out of the side of the room.

                The figure barely had time to look up before he was shot many times. I saw some men scatter around the room, but they to were only figures. One of the figures approached me. This was not a mans figure it was a woman’s. The light turned away from my face and there was woman standing before me. “Felix! Is that you?!”

To Be Continued...