There’s flesh on the road, but I can’t stop. There’s no time.
“It could be alive.”
Fuck it. I keep driving. If I stop they’ll catch up. Then they’ll know. You will all know and life just won’t make sense anymore. At least while I elude them the pieces don’t fit. Like a broken bottle, the pieces jaded and unrecognizable as a whole.
There’s no time to explain why I'm running. Just know that I have to. Just know that if our paths cross it will all come together like a train wreck. Just know that and be satisfied.
Forty miles down the road I pull off to refuel and grab a bite to eat. When I last heard, they were 80 miles south of me heading west. I get back on route 27 and head north. I've bought some time. Precious time. I can make it to Ruth's and get it done. I'll need at least 24 hours. Meanwhile you can get to know them.
Two men, mid 30’s, driving west on route 56. A cool blue sedan glides with ease down the narrow highway. Inside the car, the men barely exchange a word.
The driver scratches at the entry point of a needle. Surgical tubing runs to an IV in the backseat, dangling from the handle above the tinted window. Liquid surges from tube to vein a constant flow of a homemade concoction. This is what keeps him going. Within a few hours they’ll hit checkpoint. At that time the men will switch positions, change the needle, and refuel. The advantage of their method, the relentless, non-stop perseverance, gives them the advantage.
Their mission came from an unknown source. But their sticking to it, without stopping, is the only thing that guarantees their survival. Their bleak existence as stealthy assassins is all they have. They don’t know their fate if they continue. They only know they die if they stop.
Do you like what you hear so far? Does your empathy lie with them, the antagonists? Or do you feel for me, relate to me somehow, even though you don’t know the first thing about me? What if I told you that my existence prevents the establishment of a hybrid human, immune to all and vulnerable to nothing? What if I told you that these hybrids could win any war and persevere to create a peaceful harmonic community of perfect beings? What if I told you that my existence hinders the cure for every disease to man, only to habituate the existence of pestilence, suffering and violence? Would you still like me?
Maybe I should tell you more of this knowledge I carry. How if they find me, not only does my life end, but yours as well. Your family, your friends, your neighbors-everyone. That this super species doesn’t just replace the bad in the world, it replaces us all. No gradual integration, no allowance to live out the rest of your life. No future generations that contain even one chromosome of you. It all stops. Except for a few choice individuals, scientists, politicians and the Dark Party will remain. Dark Party, you ask? Well let’s take a glance back at those two men whose sole existence is to find me.
If humanity could be judged on a scale, these two, in their gray flannel suits, would find themselves in the negative. If there were some way to detect a person’s soul, their inner core, you would find none here.
These Class D members of the Party were created as drones. Like worker bees, serving a queen they may never see, following orders they cannot control and knowing only that stagnancy yields death. And upon completing their mission, they die, which is knowledge they are never privileged to learn and if they were, they wouldn’t know how to care. Because to the Party, death is an abstract; death as We know it involves shedding the physical body so that the soul can continue. These Megs, as they are called within the Party structure, merely stop functioning, get recycled and turned into more Megs. Or something worse.
So, they continue, soul-less, without feelings, on their kamikaze mission to stop me.
The party infiltrated most of our network early on. Once word spread of their true intentions, it was hard to hide one’s true siding with Us. It was surprising to learn that those brainwashed into believing the Party’s doctrine were sadly in the majority. So many people of power backed the “Doctrine for a Perfect Civilization”; it was hard for the masses to see the downside. The mass sacrifice (or suicide more accurately) was seen as the first truly unifying force to pass through a nation like ours. Blinded by its promises of peace and prosperity, only a few could see through the dark inner-workings of the plan. Only a few could see that these men in power backed the Party only because it insured their survival.
So now, what say you? It’s a hard decision isn’t it? Preserve mankind and all the negative aspects of what we do to each other and our planet or promote the creation of a peace loving humanity. Our rebellion is being fought by the Party with anti-selfishness propaganda. A majority of the populous enjoys seeing themselves as martyrs for a higher cause. But I won’t stand for it. And neither would you if you knew the whole truth.
The logistics of the Party’s plan are completely self-serving. They could care less about the fate of all the millions that subscribe to their notions. They see a path to world domination. The “humans” they intend to genetically mutate will be nothing more than robots, serving whatever purpose they are programmed with. Some will be peaceful citizens, resembling you and me. Others will be mutated to gigantic status, with the strength of 25 and a mission only to kill any that remain after the Transformation.
These sheep you see cloned today on television? That is your future.
The members of the movement in favor of the Party’s Doctrine are blinded by the “wouldn’t it be nice” syndrome. “Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world with no war?” “Wouldn’t it be nice to be free of disease?” Yes it sure as hell would, that I agree with. The problem lies within the fact that none of us will be around to enjoy it.
So, the only question that remains is this: How did I come into possessing the critical components to their plan? How do I know so much about what goes on inside the Party? Well I guess I should introduce myself. Class AAA Party Citizen Jane L. Brighton at your service.
I know my mission. I know what lies at the end, and I fully accept it. I helped create this and I must destroy it. Not only must I destroy the information, I must destroy myself. That is why I needed time. Precious time. The process will take 29 hours. I’m pulling into Ruth’s as we speak. I hope what I have told you makes some sense. I hope I am making the right decision. I have bought our rebellion a few years in which, I hope, the truth comes out.
Even if it doesn’t, my soul will rest peacefully knowing I did not die in vain.
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Reviewed by Vincent Valentino
12/23/2005
Hi there. I signed up just to comment on this short. I agree with the others. It WAS great, and you should make more. Sounds like a very interesting universe you have created.
A female assassin, known as Raven and hailing from both human and alien backgrounds, shares her story with Security Chief Salina Craddock of the Earth Conglomerate Space Security Agency (ECSSA) after being captured.
A female assassin, known as Raven and hailing from both human and alien backgrounds, shares her story with Security Chief Salina Craddock of the Earth Conglomerate Space Security Agency (ECSSA) after being captured.
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