Read Last Light Falling Online

Authors: J. E. Plemons

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #General

Last Light Falling (23 page)

I turn to address the crowd. “I’m no different than you, and I didn’t come here to save you from this evil. I came here to give you hope that the choices you make may save your life.”

“So what are we supposed to do, just give in and die?” someone shouts.

“We’re all going to die, my friend, in some way or another. Death is just the beginning of a new life. There is but one choice you will have to face before the Day of Judgment, and it will undoubtedly decide your fate. You people will not be immune to the darkest of days that will come, nor will you be in such favor the hour of your death. Many of you will be deceived by your own flesh. If you surrender to this,” I say, pointing toward the officers, “then you will have dug your own eternal grave.”

Right then, a small boy about seven, limps toward me. His face is covered in dirt, and he looks as if he hasn’t had a decent meal in weeks. As he gets closer, I see he’s wearing a metal prosthetic leg. He hands me a fistful of arrows he fetched from the dead officers. “Thank you,” he says.

I kneel down and place my hand on his shoulder, holding back the tears as much as I can. “God has a special place in His heart for you. You will be protected by His hand from now on,” I say as I hug him.

“Are you an angel?” he asks. “Because you glow like one,” he says.

“Is that what you see?” I ask. He shakes his head up and down and grins. I stand up and wipe the tears from my eyes as he slowly walks back to his mother.

Before I leave and head back up to the car, I turn and address one last message to these poor people. “You will tell the world of our existence and know that God’s wrath will not go undone here. There will be no limitations nor boundary until it is finished.”

I walk away, not knowing how many of these people will actually survive. Before we drive off, I kneel down at a large stone in the
cemetery. While the others reload weapons and prepare themselves for the next wave of attacks, I slowly suppress any hatred within me and put my head to the ground and pray.

CHAPTER 17

We drive east and stop in a remote area to rest for the remainder of the night before moving on. By mid-morning, we arrive at the next city, approaching cautiously from a distance, but when Finnegan takes a quick scan of the downtown area through his scope, he notices something quite different than what we’ve already seen. It appears to be normal. Of course, that’s all relative when you’re defining
normal
in this country. Regardless, there doesn’t seem to be any threatening signs from federal officers in the vicinity.

We drive in for a closer look and examine the city’s potential grounds for attack. I put on a black cloak with a hood that I got from Father Joseph back at the den to conceal my weapons. What may seem normal from a distance can be an alarming illusion as we approach closer. I certainly don’t want to pose as a threat to these people with the sight of my weapons, but I go in assuming everyone is an enemy regardless—I trust no one now.

The streets are filled with people going about their business as if nothing has happened. People are shopping and eating with absolutely no federal officers in sight. By their contented behavior and elegant appearance, it’s evident that this is a wealthier district; in fact, I see no signs of poverty. The population here looks to be around 250,000, which is considered to be very large these days.

Since the new administration has taken control, the population of America has dwindled by thirty percent in the last ten years due mostly to harsh laws restricting unwanted and non-contributing citizens access to food credits, which slowly caused many Americans to die from starvation. But with the recent news from Finnegan about the birth-controllaced water, I’m shocked that the percentage isn’t lower. Prior to this administration, the population was nearly cut in half from an extremely deadly flu epidemic that began in 2035 and wasn’t contained until two years later, when a new vaccine was developed. But the long wait for a cure proved to be detrimental, as the deadly disease swiftly swept around the globe, killing nearly four and a half billion. No other age in history has witnessed such atrocities.

Because this town appears to be nonthreatening, we take advantage of the city’s amenities and find a place to rest in one of the downtown hotels. I never thought I would be this excited to take a shower in the middle of the afternoon. The warm water running over my skin and cascading down my back like a tepid waterfall never felt so good, and I have it all to myself.

Before the day breaks, we scout out the city, trying to determine why it’s so different from the others that have been destroyed and are nearly desolate. While we walk downtown, Gabe and I immediately notice the city library, which is much larger than the one in our town back home. Whether it’s false hope or not, we decide to explore the inside, expecting to find it empty, and hoping to discover Internet services, but to our surprise it’s filled with readers on every floor.

We wander around until we locate the computer lab on the third floor. The computer screens are lit up, but instead of the solid blue screen we have back home, these have a welcoming city homepage. Gabe browses outside of the homepage, but the search tool is disabled; in fact, there is no other browser to use. The Internet appears to be gated to this community only, creating an intranet network that is obviously monitored with high security.

Gabe tries to hack into a backdoor allowing him to override the internal network, but it’s sealed shut without a trace of possible networking avenues outside of this city. As we browse through sites that are allowed, it is clear that the government has restricted any outside access and has contrived an intranet community that makes the new administration appealing. The sites are dictated by what they want you to believe is true. The absolute fallacy of this virtual world they have created is a manifestation of lies and only serves to brainwash the people to believe the world outside of this city has the same comfort as it does inside.

A woman in her fifties, hopelessly trying to look twenty, sits next to me at another computer. I can’t help to stare, but I notice a tiny barcode tattooed on her right wrist. As we get up, I notice barcodes tattooed on everyone’s wrists. I wouldn’t have noticed it before, but now that I’m curiously looking for them, they are everywhere and easy to spot, like dangling earrings. The people are dressed very well and look sparkling clean. Every woman who walks by is wearing makeup, and every man is cleanly shaven. Now that I have become more perceptive of my surroundings, the peculiarity of this strange city provokes a convivial curiosity that drives me to continue exploring it. We decide to wander further in the city, hoping to figure out the meaning behind its
cultural abnormalities, at least compared to what we have already experienced.

We meet back outside with Henry and Finnegan, explaining to them the oddity of the barcodes. “Let’s split up so we can gather clues more efficiently. I want to explore more of this strange town. We’ll meet back at the hotel at ten,” I say to everyone.

While Henry and Finnegan drift off in one direction, Gabe and I stay together in another. After an hour of walking down street after street, we find ourselves moving further away from the city and into a residential area. Before we start to go back toward another part of the city, I look over beyond the trees that separate the back of the houses and notice a metal fence.

“Do you see that, behind the trees?” I ask.

Gabe squints his eyes and says, “It looks like a security fence, why?”

“Exactly. Why is a security fence needed in a city like this, especially behind a residential area?” I say.

We take a closer look to examine the stature of the fence. The fence runs in both directions as far as we can see, and stands nearly twenty feet high into the trees. Gabe moves closer to the barrier with his arm stretched. “Wait, stop!” I shout. I pull back his arm before his hands touches the fence. “How do you know this fence isn’t electrified?” I ask.

“Because the hairs on my arm are not standing up, and I would be able to hear the flow of electricity humming through the metal veins of the fence,” Gabe says, as he grabs a hold of the fence without a shock. I wonder why they would spend all this time putting up a security fence around the city, but leave the main road unguarded.

We head back into the city to explore more on the east side of town, where the streets are less even and the buildings are not as pristine. Still, the same cheerful people walk by with barcodes on their wrists, oblivious to the dingy and uninviting dwellings. A palette of illuminating colors splash across the walls on the side of buildings in the alleys, where lesser traffic of people roam.

A bright eyesore of a building pops out down the street as we walk around the corner. It’s an old movie theater, with a brilliantly lit marquee flashing the words:
All Day and All Night.
What appears to be a theater front is most likely a pornographic movie house behind the doors, but upon closer examination, it truly is a theater that shows old black-and-white films and television shows from the past. We watch intently as people walk in and out of the theater while having their wrists scanned when entering.

As we walk a little further down the street, people begin to stop and stare, avoiding passing in front of me. I can feel their frightened eyes glued to me as I slowly walk down the sidewalk. Before I know it, Gabe nudges me in the side of my ribs and whispers, “Hey, your knives are showing. So are your guns.”

Apparently, my cloak has come open and exposed my weapons, startling everyone around me. I quickly pull my robe closed and continue walking as if no one has noticed, but unfortunately it’s too late, because people are whispering about my attire. The whispers get louder, spreading like a cancer down the street, and before we can get through the next block, I feel like an outsider even though my cloak is tightly concealing my weapons.

Gabe steers me to the right, down a back street behind a dumpster, where we crouch down and hide. Less than a minute later, two federal officers walk past the back street toward the movie theater. Whatever clairvoyant thoughts are swimming around that swollen head of his, I’m thankful for yet another one of his intuitive moments of saving us from an unnecessary altercation.

Down toward the end of the back street are what appear to be a couple of prostitutes, but I can’t be for sure, and I would like to reserve judgment before assuming. We walk in that direction just so we can avoid any federal entanglements before the day is over, and turn down another street where the smells of barbeque and Italian food fill the air.

To our left are manicure and massage parlors, and to the right are a pawnshop and an old tavern that reeks of bad alcohol. The pungent odor of skunky beer breath coming from an inhibited old man staggering out of the bar is enough to make me gag. When the pub door opens, I get a tiny glimpse of a federal officer sitting at the bar, so we abandon the bar idea and enter the pawnshop instead.

While we look around the store, watching the front window for more officers, we notice an inordinate amount of men being checked before going through a back door of the establishment. Something just doesn’t add up, and it’s making me a little suspicious seeing credit change hands in private.

I go into the bathroom and climb up into the ceiling tile and onto the rafter bars to investigate what’s going on behind those doors. I walk about ten yards and peer into one of the air vents and witness the most horrific sights of bondage. Men are forcing women and children into rooms that are less appealing than a dog cage, and forcing them onto filthy onlookers bidding for their bodies in a commercially sexual exploitation of reproductive slavery.

This place is no more than a front for facilitating human trafficking. My body shakes with violent intentions, as I’m still in total shock of what I’ve just seen. My stomach tightens and I grit my teeth, with my jaws protruding as I simmer with righteous indignation. It’s absolutely abhorrent and demeaning what these men have allowed to go on. The demoralizing atrocities behind these doors is a wretched abomination, and I will not stand for it. While an anger and rage that I can’t contain boils inside of me, I quickly descend from the ceiling and back out of the bathroom to explain to Gabe the sickening situation. This city is redolent of filth that suggests a rise of a new Sodom and Gomorrah, and I will crush it before any more children are coerced into any kind of sexual slavery.

I look at Gabe with fury as we walk back outside to consider taking action against this insufferable sight. I pull back the hood of my cloak, untying it, and hand it to him. “You better tame your guilty emotions because mercy isn’t an option today,” I say as I draw a sword from my back. If I previously had any guilt-ridden thoughts about killing another human being, they have now completely ceased to exist.

Gabe follows me in as I swing open the door and lunge forward at the man behind the counter with my sword, pointing it toward his neck. “Time to lock up the shop, you grizzly bastard, you’re closed for the day,” I say.

His eyes intermittently look down at the counter as Gabe searches for the keys to the store. “Where are the keys?” I ask.

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