Dystopia Chapter 23: Personal

The following day demanded confronting a hard truth. They will not leave this unaddressed. Everyone walked away, no bodies left behind, no harm, still if only I could walk this all back. Never my intention to involve others, I saw they were all gathered around the table engaged in a robust conversation until I approached, embarrassed. I’d squashed the mood. Why did they follow me, and how did they know? Best guess Addison. Is she an insider, a spy, or does she work for the committee? Hard to say. I then returned to my usual seat and offered my usual “good morning all.” I managed a strained smile. Server arrived with breakfast, set the food in place and reminded me, “remember to tip the server,” turned away giggling.

Next, I mumbled and added, without eye contact, “Thanks for saving my butt.” Silence while they returned to their meals. Frank asked, “Quiet night, wondering did you all hear some shouting… gunfire down the road, kept me awake most of the night?”

“A miscalculation on my part. Sorry. Running into trouble was not something I foresaw, of course. Unfortunately, I encountered a relative of someone we may have victimized in the past, seeking retribution.”

What could I say? So many questions. Wondering how I could encounter that one person. Who claimed familiarity with me at that late hour? And where did he see a wanted poster of me, and who published a wanted poster? Who would put a bounty on me? None of this makes sense. He seemed to know where I lived.

More conversation followed by an uncomfortable pause, as if sound no longer existed.

“Fine, I’m sorry! Just didn’t want others involved in my…business, whatever!”

“What was on the card?” Addison asked.

“Nothing,” anger bubbling up.

“So we just put our necks on the line and created chaos in the middle of the street, started a fire, left a lot of pissed-off folks behind…. And added to a growing reputation, which, in various ways, we are all running from? I might add likely to have bounty hunters knocking on the front gate cause you were hungry? Dinner, a quest, a card, nothing? Was it an ex - girlfriend on the side, seriously?” Cord asked.

“We all had a life, a reputation, reasons to stay unidentified, invisible. We all have a past. Most likely, we all have someone we left behind, friends, foes, and bodies. And yes, I’m tired of running, looking over my shoulder,” Brett interjected.

Joshua pulled a worn, folded piece of paper out of an inner pocket, unfolded it, and placed it in the center of the table. A wanted poster, offering a hefty reward, displayed. “Dead or Alive.”

“So, you gained a reputation not through talent, but by dumb luck?” Addison added. “Our discovery, the Well, seemed like a place to elude notice and merge with the displaced. This is just the beginning; trouble will follow from within or without. Sitting here, you can feel eyes on us.”

“We’re in a tough spot, thanks to you, vulnerable,” Addison said. “Even among this community, I guarantee there are those willing to inform, to snitch, turn us in for a price.”

An uncomfortable pause followed.

“Nothing is not an answer,” Brett stated.

My mind racing, the mental script replaying, probably three years now my wife murdered, and two daughters missing. I tried to avoid anything that was the least bit menacing. The world distorted; chaos reigned. Every day a struggle to survive, evading all precarious situations, fearful and weak. The world is in a state of disintegration. The rule of law that once held humanity afloat is now undone. I hid from my past, my failures. I searched for the doers without success.

I was so damn clever; I promised I would keep them safe, find food, and that we would stay together. Shrewd. Educated. Quick-witted. What a joke. I’ll be right back. I promised! Just as I had recently promised Diana’s father.

And I was right back, my wife dead lying across the bed and my two daughters gone. I have worked hard to compartmentalize the pain, then I saw Emily being mistreated by a yahoo and the feelings rushed back, that gut punch I lived with occasionally reappearing, the vision of a… looking, hiding, avoiding reality.

Why did I decide to visit that awful place, close by, thinking maybe, just maybe, they were there, stupid?

I lived the recent years hiding, squeezing out memories. Personal.

I saw Diana approaching, a bounce in her step, feeling safe at the Well. Protected. “What’s up, all?” she asked.

I recalled her father’s parting words. “That’s my daughter, and if anything happens to her, anything, I will hold you personally responsible and promise to hunt you down, and you will pay.”

I made eye contact with Diana. “I have, we all have, stories, consequential encounters. Some day we can sit around and reminisce. For now, I’ll just say it’s about family.”

Addison stood, angry. “Family, look around. Today, this is our family.” Turning, walked away.

They all walked away. Except Diana.

I sat alone, appetite gone, clashing anxieties consuming me.

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