Dystopia Chapter 39: Be the Last One Standing

Mr. Maddox cautiously led the occupying team forward, including several families, artisans, and muscle; the goal, stabilizing the proximity. The work began. Still…

Invariably, without fail, someone would challenge the change. This day it would be our new ‘friend’ Mike or Mikey and a couple of his companions.

Work had been progressing well until now. Late afternoon. Here comes trouble. Walking our way.

Once Mike’s group was halfway to the wagon, security — including Mr. Maddox — intervened, ordering the group: “Stop, please; the agreement was that we would not trespass on each other’s space.”

I emphasized, “This is doable, but two at a time and with a tour guide. Surely you want us to respect your property.”

Mikey insisted, “I want, or rather we want, you gone, your gang of intruders. Since we’re here, we’ll look around. So, step aside.”

A couple of hours and already trouble had arrived. Everyone was on alert, tense, as I approached the uninvited visitors. This should have been a straightforward decision, benefiting all.

Hoping to deescalate the confrontation, I smiled. “If you want to make this transition easy for everyone, here is the non-negotiable. This space, this area, is now ours. As promised, we will secure it, protect this end of your building, coordinate roadway access to our common area with your folks, provide medical assistance, and, if water is even possible, consider drilling a well. Finally, if anyone enters this lot without permission, we’ll confront them and invite them to leave.”

The group appeared restless, considering their options. Okay. “So, we will provide this white armband, tie it around your arm, and it will be your ticket in… For now, leave, then bring back one individual at a time that requires medical assistance, no weapons…”

Mike spoke, “We choose to look around.”

This is not going well. “Where is Les?”

“Occupied for the moment,” Mike said, grinning. “Charged with treason, I’m the interim director, the mayor of our community and, upon a re-vote, decided you all need to… leave. But leave your materials, for which we are most appreciative.”

The first time I killed a man, I felt ill, guilty for weeks, and couldn’t sleep. It’s a shame, but I’m now past it in a day’s time. Usually. We have devalued life since before the turn of the century. Reporters reporting, videos in the news daily filming innocents being killed by the thousands in body bags or yet to be collected. Bodies decomposing in the streets. Buildings leveled. Death by denial of basic needs. Drones seeking targets while someone miles away, sitting in an air-conditioned room, snacks nearby, coffee in hand, erases lives with little thought. Orders followed, scruples scarred as body counts rise. The story of humanity, except we had mastered the art and science of manslaughter. How we avoided a nuclear holocaust, I know not. Ineptitude? Today the rule, be the last one standing.

I repeated, “I’d really like to speak with Les.”

Mike stepped back. “Nope,” he said.

“You’re in charge now. I see you brought friends.”

“Yep?”

“Who is second in charge?”

A pause. “That makes no difference.”

“And you’re sure we cannot renegotiate? Maybe take a beat.”

Mike raised his voice, “No.”

Wondering what to do. Looking around, do I back down? Pushed into a corner. Committee expecting action. Really wish Brett and Cord were here. Well, members slowly seek cover. Addison and Diana are working across the roadway at the medical cage. Who would rescue me? Where is Mr. Maddox? “Mike, I think we should rethink what is about to happen.”

Frank’s words briefly echo in my ears, “What’s the plan?”

These few moments feel like forever as my breathing becomes heavy.

“So, Jesse, what’s wrong? All those stories, lies?”

My options feel limited. Decision time. Would Mr. Maddox engage? The other security members? Or would I end up standing alone? Someone from my left yelled, “Now.” Mike and those perched in the windows above looked to their right, distracting everyone. It was now or never.

From my back holster, I pulled my revolver. Aimed but froze, I waited.

Mike turned back, made eye contact, and realized what I had done. Mike foolishly pulled his weapon. One shot. Ended his defiance. Just like him, the person on his right who tried to join the conflict met the same fate. Meanwhile, Mr. Maddox and security personnel, stationed near the wagons, quickly neutralized those in the windows.

Mike’s gaze remained locked on me, his eyes wide open. A suffocating weight settled in my chest, far more burdensome than I had expected. I’d apologize later. Or never. Wasn’t sure which.

Unlike TV shootouts of old, this was over in seconds. I randomly selected the adjacent leader, aimed, and...

“Don’t, please don’t,” he responded feebly. “We’re leaving.”

Without hesitation, I said, “You will not leave. Go get Les now.”

Within minutes, Les appeared, approached, and studied the bodies crumpled between us. Les looked up to make eye contact. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, like I said recently, Mike needs to be more diplomatic.”

“Anyway,” I said, “Les, a gift, the white armband, your ticket in; others can only enter if you are present. Here is a second armband. Only one other at a time. Are we clear?”

“I really don’t want…”

“I don’t really give a damn what you want. As you can see, this day has not gone well. I’m tired. Hungry. You are the man in charge. We will respectfully move the dead to your side of the fence. And a last suggestion: in the next 24 hours cover all those windows at this end of the building.”

Mr. Maddox, now standing at my side, said, “This is Les. Assist him, please. He’ll need your help.”

The Scout Team’s members headed home, tired, leaving the new ‘mayor’ and community to behave themselves. For now, back to the main campus, completing the committee’s directive, leaving bodies behind. Our reputation and bounties would grow. We are no longer invisible. The sun slipping behind the horizon. Evenings were cooler now as we entered the Well, cleaned up, ate dinner, and debriefed, still hoping to hear from Brett and Cord… nothing.

Mike’s face, his ultimate expression etched in my mind. What had I become?

Community leaders sitting in a darkened room, snacks nearby, coffee in hand, pushing my buttons, the body count increasing.

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