THE FIFTH COLUMN
January 11th, 2010
“The timing of death, like the ending of a story, gives a changed meaning to what preceded it.
Mary Catherine Bateson
Seattle, Washington 12-24-2015
It’s Christmas Eve, not that it matters much anymore, the thermometer reads minus119 degrees, but if feels every bit like minus 120, not very funny. It’s getting harder to find things that will burn in the fire. The gale is getting stronger every night when the sun goes down. I’ve kept a daily journal since the end of this world as it was known with the hope that if someone has survived, they might know what happened here. Why was I spared? It’s been a very lonely existence, my wife and son are dead and nearest I can tell, every other human is gone, I’ve listened to the short wave day after day hoping to hear a voice, a sign of life, anything. There are no more clouds or rain,
the water is gone, the oceans are dry and the sun seems to get closer every day. It’s 140 plus degrees mid day and minus 125 and dropping at night. The Radiation has long killed the plant and animal life and left me now, weaker by the hour. I’m guessing that the explosions have affected the earth’s rotation. Anyway, this will most likely be my last entry…… God help us, as I pray for any unfortunate living and damn the unholy dead.
Alex Brian Reese
Seattle, Washington, 08-23-2015 7:35 AM
Alex made his way past the market. Vendors and delivery people were manically bringing the crusty old tourist attraction to life for the maybe the millionth time. He watched as a barge lumbered miles in the distance as the fog slowly burned off the gray hazy water by the pier he was passing. He had longed to be able to walk the few blocks from his home for what seemed like months but the constant barrage of rain was not conducive to foot travel. But today was different, what a glorious day it was, between the distinctive tepid, salty breeze coming from the Sound, sea gulls circling the water hunting food and the promise of more perfect days like this one, life didn’t get any better. Alex thought about his wife and new baby, and wondered just how many people really get a second chance to be this happy. Alex remembered why he was now, a permanent transplant from the Midwest, and how a three thousand mile change of scenery had been his salvation. Ohio, what the hell was I thinking, he mused. Oh yea, my parents had moved there when I was a baby, not my fault, as he smiled to himself. Within blocks of his office, he started a mental inventory of stories he had in the queue, one in particular had become increasingly unsettling to the point it was invading his sleep. He hated the idea that this perfect day would be as filled with stories dealing with the worst side of mankind. He did a mental recap of his reoccurring daily journalistic battles. Civil war was imminent, not just in the states but worldwide. The extreme religious right of every sect and belief, and the radical pro choice people’s army had all mobilized. Battle lines had been drawn but other than minor skirmishes and flashing of feathers no one had really fired the first shot across the bow. The World was now controlled by the NWU, the New World Union. It had been formed initially to bring the increasingly warring factions split by religious beliefs, culture and law, to the negotiating table. The NWU had managed to incorporate almost every major and many minor world powers with the exception of Israel. Israel was, and had been, the scape goat of the Middle East; if there was abuse to be meted out it always seemed to come their way. Other than the United States they had been very cautious with whom they aligned themselves with and now, the United States had a different agenda. Israel, under intense threat of world retribution had chosen to deal with their problems alone.
Zero population growth was the New World Union’s first order of business. This law would affect the entire planet, with no exceptions, bar those in power and those with money and influence, which was becoming an extremely small club, twelve to be exact. A by product of the NWU’s infinite wisdom was a far reaching worldwide policing enforcement unit called the PZC, The Planned Zero Corporation, who’s original reason for existence was arranging the disposal of the potential offspring and punish by threat of death, the offending parents. But they had become so efficient, that they had taken on virtually all global enforcement duties. In reality the New World Union had only served to unite the traditionally opposed religions and peoples to mount a unified front and engage the new world government to the point of “world civil war”. What could he say that hadn’t been said about it, it’s just a matter of time. Maybe it was time for a new vocation, the problem being, reporting was all he knew, he had been an official card carrying member of the fourth estate going on 20 years, he had been writing about something from the first time he had picked up a crayon, and now, as a seasoned reporter it took on a whole new meaning, it paid the rent and in some strange capacity, made him feel like he was making a difference.
GEORGE W. BUSH BUILDING 7:55
His office was a tall bronze tinted glass tower, he had never been to the top, the elevator control pad went to sixteen, he knew there was a seventeenth floor because he always looked to see if there was anyone looking over the penthouse veranda, as he approached the entrance each day. His building housed a very eclectic group of tenants from high priced attorney’s and commercial real estate brokers to artists, Halliburton world oil, a recording studio to a large medical office of which had been the center of controversy by being picketed daily 24 by hundreds of right to lifers from the largest fundamentalist church in the world. He had done many stories on this church which was growing at an alarming rate and had become steadily more aggressive in their techniques to circumvent roe verses wade from outside the legal system. Even though it was never proven, two of the church elders had been accused of brutally murdering three of their Doctors over a two year period. As Alex approached the rust colored granite facade and brass framed door he greeted the two heavily armed policemen that stood guard on either side of the door, he never quite understood why the police needed machine guns to baby sit an office building. Good morning gentlemen he blurted, good morning Alex each smiled and retorted. He reached for the door but stopped cold in his tracks………. something was wrong…… something was missing…… he turned and scanned the shining building bottom to top, he glanced through the glass window, he looked out to the sidewalk……….no picketers, hell, they hadn’t missed a day in two and a half years. what gives, he thought, he walked out toward the street to see if maybe they were having one of their many daily prayer meetings, are they hiding?…. Might be hard to hide several hundred people on a busy main street. In fact they had caused so much congestion over the years the city had re routed traffic, installed new lights, speed bumps, and assigned extra police for crowd control. No they didn’t show up today, that’s a huge story in itself Alex thought. He noticed how hot the sun had become; it would be too much in an hour or so for scaling his cities forty five degree streets. He turned and started his short stroll inside.
8:00 AM
The blast took the top floor from the office building sending glass, brick, fire and smoke hundreds of feet in the air, people were screaming and running hysterically in horror and pain, bodies blood and parts were everywhere, cars were on fire from the falling debris setting off collateral explosions all around the perimeter. Most of the people running out of the building were on fire and tearing at their clothes. The building imploded in a second blast from deep inside. The structure collapsed into itself in a fiery combination of searing heat and rubble. The blast blew Alex back twenty feet never touching the ground. He landed in a pile on top a black sedan that was riddled with various sizes of rock, glass and glowing ash. His face burned from the molten flash, where there had been a full beard was now smoldering stubble his clothes were cut and tattered. Small and large cuts started producing slow streams of blood on his body. He slid off of the car and when he tried to walk discovered an eight inch shard of triangular glass protruding from his leg, he quickly stripped his belt and wrapped it around his upper leg and gritted his teeth as he, in one swift movement, removed the projectile slicing a deep gash in his hand, in the process. Alex collapsed against the car door, his feet angled toward each other on the debris strewn pavement, he tried to catch his breath but his lungs wouldn’t co-operate. What the hell happened, it’s a dream, he thought. Alex looked up at the opaque, threatening abyss; black and red glowing spots, floating from the sky like a snowfall in hell he imagined, and then he lost consciousness.
The Hospital
The beep of the heart monitor started as a whisper and turned into a scream as Alex fought to wake up. He knew where he was from the sterile scent, even before opening his twitching swollen eyes. Those fucking lights, turn them off God damn it he mumbled. Alex cracked one eye and attempted to focus, he looked up and, standing beside the bed, God, that is the biggest, ugliest nurse I’ve ever seen, maybe I’m dead he thought, no, he’d seen paintings of hell and no body looked like that. Can you open your eyes Mr. Reese? Can you leave me alone he grunted? No Mr. Reese you’re pretty banged up but you will live and this gentleman here needs some information from you. He considered his options, I can’t move, no, I’m a captive audience; ok…… what do you want? As he attempted to sit up and see who he was talking to in the same action. Just relax she said as she worked the bed control and adjusted the back forward and arranged the IVs, cords and pillow. He grimaced in pain but gallantly fought gravity. As things got clearer he noticed the man standing somewhat to the left of the nurse towards the back of the room, not a doctor he thought. Black Armani suit, wrap arounds in his front pocket; I guess he could be a doctor. Are you comfortable Mr. Reese? Said the nurse. Call me Alex, please, and my name is Dorothy she responded. Do you need anything? I’m OK, what happened? I only know that someone set off bombs all over the city. You were one of the lucky ones. This is the only hospital in Seattle still standing, the Red Cross is sending aid from all over the country. The building you worked at is no longer there. As Alex tried to digest what he had just heard the man in the suit moved closer, moving the nurse to the side gently with his right arm on her shoulder and quietly whispering something in her ear, I have other patients to see Alex , just buzz me if you need anything. The man moved to the side of the bed, Alex hadn’t realized how tall and intimidating the man was, he looked every bit of six foot four, blond headed, and very easily could have been a Nazi Waffen officer seventy five odd years earlier. My name is Lawrence Jacobs; I’m with Planned Zero Corporation, as he unfolded his badge holder. He softly, but sternly demanded, tell me everything you know about what you’ve seen today? Alex thought, I’m lying here, half fucking dead, and this suit wants to interrogate me about things he probably already knows. The fucking building blew up he croaked, now, Get the hell out of here Mr. Jacobs, I don’t know anymore than you do. You would be best served to cooperate with us in this matter. Leave, now, Alex reiterated. Mr. Jacobs, visibly not pleased with Alex’s reaction decided to cut his losses for now and left Alex with a firm, we’ll be in contact, there would be plenty of time later. As Jacobs turned and was walking through the frame of the door, Alex gave him the one finger salute off his forehead, Spooks he thought….. and then it hit him, my wife……. where’s my wife.
The City
The city took a major hit, St. Helens had been a minor inconvenience compared to this devastation. Virtually every building over three stories was leveled, the sound of ambulances, helicopters and emergency alert sirens cut through the air with a vengeance. The air was rich with smells and particles which gave it a surreal quality. Colors were different, the grass was black, the sky was red, the survivors, pale from shock.
Field hospitals were being set up mid city and in the suburbs. Hospital ships were en route. Temporary morgues were filled to capacity and being set up one after another. The death toll was so great that mass burning was being considered. The heat would not be an ally today. Communication was spotty as many of the cities cell towers had been targeted. The phone lines were jammed.
It was a strange dichotomy, the city was for all reason, mortally wounded, but in reality had never been more alive.
As evening became apparent the looters appeared en mass along with the national police, lighting was spotty as generators were in short supply and the power grid was all but down. As the sun disappeared the relentless sounds of the day were joined by gunfire and smaller isolated explosions. The confusion intensified with the added danger of hungry, thirsty people seeking anything someone else had. Homes with power, left the lights off, pulled the shades, locked the doors and loaded their weapons. The president had declared Marshal law. Orders of shoot to kill had been issued with past disasters, but what made this unique was the shear magnitude of the devastation and the massive numbers of armed marauding citizens looking for food.
Baphomet-The Dragon
The Dragon had lived thousands of lifetimes. He had been a student, a teacher, a collector, The organizer of the most infamous secret societies man would ever know, a fighter and above all a father to millions. He was now, the master. The dragon had studied every military strategist, anarchist and would be world conqueror from the beginning of time. He was there the first time man picked up a rock and attacked his neighbor. And The Dragon was an observer, he had seen many things. He had watched the fish crawl from the oceans and inhabit the land; he watched a single man and woman populate most every corner of the earth. He observed and learned as man experimented with and attempted to control his environment. Fire was a favorite human discovery for him, it was so cleansing. The Dragon paid close attention to the conquerors, the monsters and innovators. The Dragon had ridden with Genghis Kan, studied his battle strategies and was constantly amazed by his cunning. When approaching Volottoil, Khan convinced the opposing commander that if he sent one thousand cats and several thousand swallows, he would spare the city. When the animals were delivered; the Mongol’s tied small pieces of cloth to their tails and lit them on fire. The animals fled back to the city, where they set off hundreds of fires, Khan round up and killed over 70 thousand men, women and children. There were so many fine examples through the ages, a textbook of brutality pain and suffering. Vlad Tepes or “Vlad the Impailer” whom had twenty thousand people impaled on long stakes horizontally along the road the Romanian city he ruled in the fourteenth century. When the invading Ottoman Turks saw the scale of Tepes brutality, they turned and went home, lesson noted. Heinrick Himmler’s final solution was especially close to his heart, a textbook of efficient elimination. Ivan the Terrible, Mao, Idi Amin, Pol Pot, Stalin, Caligula…. oh Caligula, he was an original. And the Dragon had enjoyed Rome’s fruits. The Dragon had joined Papa Doc Duvalia’s Ton Ton Macoute at its inception, always one for the latest bloody coup; he wielded his machete like a Samuari. The list was endless, each were efficient mass killers of their times. They were amateurs, thought the Dragon
The Hospital
As Alex struggled to reach the phone, he grimaced in pain; damn things are always out of reach. He mentally revisited the conversation with the Planned Zero Corporation agent. In an instant, it came back to him what the nurse had said, “Someone set off bombs all over the city”. Did that mean, businesses, hotels, just office buildings? Alex lived in a high rise apartment with his small family. As he dialed and redialed his wife’s cell number his uneasiness turned to panic. He rang for the nurses and clicked the television on, in the same motion. Every channel was on location in some area of Seattle, his city was in pieces. There were no more tall buildings, what about his? He pressed the buzzer, The nurse walked in and asked what he needed. I can’t get through to my wife, the lines are jammed. I know she replied, the switchboard here has been flooded with calls. It seems like everyone in the city is missing someone. Can you find out about my apartment? Alex requested again, please? He jotted down the address and handed it to her, I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Reese. As she left the room…… he knew.
Wake up Mr. Reese, Alex opened his eyes to the same Planned Zero agent from earlier in the day, hovering over him. I must have dosed off. Are they taking good care of you asked Jacobs? Yes he said. Very nice people said Alex. Mr. Reese, I have something to tell you and there is no easy way to say it but, your wife and child are missing, your apartment building is leveled, If they were in there, well, it doesn’t look good. Alex was paralyzed, his body numb, a million thoughts running rampant through his head, no, it’s not possible, then Alex remembered that his wife had been fighting a flu bug and would have been home.
Six Months Latter
Chengdo, China 9:10 A.M.
Alex unpacked his bags, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city in the process, Chengdo was much bigger and busier than he imagined. He had been to many cities in many countries on work assignments, but had never seen so damn many people. Where did they all live? He scanned the efficient hotel room looking for differences between hotels from the United States and the one he was standing in six thousand miles from home. Lots smaller he thought same cheap assed furniture though. Alex unpacked his laptop and fired it up; he pushed the wireless button, and was now re connected with the rest of the world. He re examined his life as he had gotten in the habit doing many times a day anymore. With his family gone and the paper closed he had agonized over his decision to write the book that was appearing in part on his computer screen as he watched. Jumbled notes and paragraphs appeared in full color familiarity. With the world in turmoil he wondered how smart it was to jump into the middle of the abortion fray. Both sides had their gloves off and were killing each other just as quickly as they could. There seemed to be no end to the escalating efficiency by which Right and the Pro Choicers were offing each other. Being a journalist pre disposed him, and by his strong personal ethic’s to neutrality, but the fact remained, someone would eventually decide that he was on one side or another which could have deadly consequences for him and anyone connected with the book. Alex sat on the faux leather chair in front of the notebook and started typing, this was why I’m good at what I do, and I have no common sense….. I’ll call a cab and get my pictures today and be home in a couple.
Five kilometers outside Chendo, China, The trail of tears
Alex had studied Chinese culture for months before booking the flight. He knew that with such a huge population, the Chinese had traditionally viewed death in much different terms then the west. He remembered seeing a magazine article with a picture showing a young mother holding and hugging her five or six year old daughter, their love practically jumped from the page, to the left of them was the daughters “Coffin Tree”, it was a young pine that was chosen for her at birth. When she reached old age, if she followed tradition, she would have cut down and made into her coffin. This may be a hard culture to understand and get behind Alex thought. But what he knew was, that China contained one fifth of the world’s population and in that fact, had passed a law in 1979 to keep population growth in check. It had probably seemed like a good idea at the time but it had introduced a whole new set of issues that the government hadn’t planned on. Abortion and infanticide were rampant and were eventually encouraged by the powers that be. Families that produced a girl had no way of passing on the family name, so abortion became a plausible form of birth control. Eighty six percent of aborted fetuses were females and babies with birth defects. This is what had brought Alex to China to begin with. He had heard of a forest just outside Chengdo where the locals were said to leave unwanted newborns beside the trail to die. The concept seemed so far fetched that he had to see it for himself and, if true, it would add a special dimension to his book.
The ride into the country was interesting to say the least. Once outside the congestion of the city, the short trip to the countryside was remarkable, what a beautiful place he thought, in the distance he watched terrace hills, and trees with flowers for leaves, pass in artificial silence.
The forest was thick with bamboo and other lush bushes trees and vines. A rainbow of mostly green lifted his spirits. As they pulled to the side of the road, and in his very broken attempt at Chinese he told the taxi driver to wait for him, the driver looked, and then smiled, and in almost perfect queens English told him “that wouldn’t be a problem”.
Alex took his Nikon digital out of the bag, checked to make sure it had a card and good batteries in it. He had missed some award winning shots over the years for just that reason. As he entered the forest he stepped onto the trail, the foreignness engulfed Alex, disorientating him for a moment, as he made his way down a slight incline in the dirt he snapped pictures as fast as the camera would allow at first. The sun shot through the canopy like lightning bolts from an an electrical storm. He walked for what seemed like an hour but was more like fifteen minutes…. when off to the right side of the trail was a small bundle, he pressed the button as he approached it with trepidation, did he really want to see what the small well worn and faded blanket held? He picket up long a bent stick and moved a fold to the side, it was what was left of a new born infant. He guessed it had been laying here about as long as it had been alive. Shaken, he snapped a few more pictures, as much as he could take, and moved further down the trail, quickly. As Alex’s mind desperately worked at processing this horror he knew he had to keep moving. Seven or eight minutes latter he saw another bundle much like the first except for one thing….. It had faint movement, Alex’s finger was frozen to shutter release, while his mind ran rampant with confusion, the camera quietly snapped picture after picture. On his approach, this baby’s face was uncovered and disfigured beyond his comprehension, he was numb, he turned and fell into some bushes, he got up, and ran the full distance back to the cab, hearing his heart beating louder and louder, it sounded like it was beating in his ears. The ride back only seemed to take a moment, he was in shock. When he came too, they were in front of the hotel. With trembling hands he fumbled for his money, handed the driver the biggest bill he could find, and stumbled out of the cab, his camera around his neck. As he regained his composure he thought, I don’t think I can do this!
The Hotel
Still agitated and sweating profusely he locked the hotel room door, sat at the desk, and cried, it was not an, “I’ll cry for a moment” and then feel better, cry, but a burst of emotion that brought back tremendous feelings… feelings that had been locked away since the bombings. His wife… his son, his life….had spun out of control. Alex had reached a crossroad. I have to do this book he thought as he regained his composure. I came here to do a job and I will do it, Alex grabbed the camera and slid the plastic door forward that held the card. He then, took a deep cleansing breath and slid it into the port in the computer. As the pictures loaded he concentrated on the positive side of what he was doing and how he needed to do this, anything to rectify the images branded onto his brain.
The pictures took him immediately back to trail, Alex had dealt with extreme doses of anxiety before, he had covered wars, famine, and just about anything else man or nature could do to humans, but this… was life changing, the world was confused and so was he.
As the thumbnails appeared, he closely examined each one for clarity and color. As he scanned the fifty or so clearer snapshots, one in particular caught his attention. It looked like a man in one of the shot’s; he enlarged the picture to full frame, and caught his breath again. Bending over the second baby, with his back to the camera was a man. He was dressed in clothes from an era he didn’t recognize. The man had an old black primitive looking leather bag with a strap around his shoulder. He had long jet black hair and where his hair separated in the back were some kind of numbers Tattooed on his neck, Alex isolated, then magnified the back of his neck on the screen, XIII, Roman numerals for thirteen, what the Hell is that all about he questioned himself out loud. There was no man there when I snapped that picture; I was the only person on the trail that I saw, Other than the infants, I was alone. He examined the frame closer and tried find a reason. As he focused on the details of the picture he noticed a white apparition, semi opaque and void of any discernable form connecting the mans hand, to the baby, like he was reaching out to the infant, he squinted, then enlarged it, it didn’t do any good, there was a man that wasn’t there, a dying baby and an out of work reporter six thousand miles from home collecting pictures of ghosts. He poured a long drink from the bottle on the desk and made it a” short order”.
The flight home was long and torturous. Alex tried to keep himself busy with arranging and re arranging the information already gathered on his laptop. It wasn’t bad enough that the world was going to hell in a handbag but him; he himself was starting to question his own sanity. He wondered why a so called God of mercy would take his wife and son, why he would allow innocent children to be left at the side of a path to die such a horrible death… alone. Why people whom all want the same basic things in life, to feed their families and enable them to have something better than they had, would kill each other, instead of sitting across a table and negotiating. Why a man that wasn’t there, was in his picture. This is far beyond my comprehension he thought, he lapsed into an uneasy sleep.
New York City, LaGuardia Airport
Alex had managed to arrange a meeting with one of the church’s “generals”. He knew the interview would be strained because right now, everything was strained. It was arranged that he would be picked up at his hotel, blindfolded, and taken to an undisclosed location for the meeting. Trust was a hard thing to come by these days and Alex was understating the concept more and more.
As the SUV came to a halt he thought, I’ll bet this is how the out of favor gangsters feel. He was helped out of the vehicle and lead inside to a room where a chair was slid underneath him. How are you Mister Reese? A faceless voice asked. A man standing behind him lifted the blindfold from his eyes, it took a moment to focus but Alex replied, very well sir, and you? We are fine and hoping to stay that way…….they call me The Reverend General but My name is Joseph, so what can I do for you Mister Reese? He examined the man for any unusual features and could find none. He could have been any ones grandfather, gray hair, pasty complexion, odd shaped liver spots and three day stubble. What set Alex aback was his dress; He looked more like a revolutionary Fidel Castro in latter years, dressed in green drab kakis and a machine pistol strapped to his side, then a man of the cloth. May I take notes asked Alex? You certainly can, said Joseph, as Alex fumbled for his pencil and small notebook from his shirt pocket he began,…] I’ve done many stories on your church over the years and have written as truthfully as possible. The evolution of your organization has taken many turns, if I understand your mission; it is to eradicate Abortion globally. Joseph, his legs crossed, with an elbow resting on one knee and his right hand stroking his whiskers, set his gaze to Alex. You are here because through the years, you have proven yourself through your writing to be unbiased. You are the only reporter we will be talking to. We….we have tried to handle this issue in a civilized manor as he explained in a soft direct voice. The moment has now passed for discussion. Mr. Reese… there are over one hundred and sixty active religions today; we are represented by most of them. We don’t all agree on each others Gods and Prophets collectedly, but there are two very troubling issues that we strongly in believe in, enough to die for. The wanton slaughter of children will stop by our hand; we have tried to address this problem through the ministry for hundreds of years but to no avail. We understand the concept of population control. We also understand that the church through history must share much guilt also, by letting greed and politics squeue the way abortion has been viewed and handled. Mr. Reese….. we also believe the End Times are upon us, we believe that there is a correlation. At this moment, if this is issue is not rectified immediately, it will be our legacy, the human race may be lost to time.
Alex was, for the first time, at a loss for words.” The End Times”? Every generation, when going through disaster, whether it be natural, monetary or political had manipulated that prophesy to keep mankind in check, it had always looked fairly transparent to him, this was different, it made sense, it all, made sense. The human race is entering a fight for its right to exist, said Joseph, the human race will survive, but it doesn’t have the right to. At that juncture a man dressed like Joseph sidles up and whispers something in Joseph’s ear. A look of extreme anguish captured Joseph’s face, I apologize, and I’m going to have to cut this interview short, it seems the NWU has bombed Israel………. as in nuclear bombs.
Seattle
Sitting in his small sparsely appointed apartment Alex was trying to capture a direction to go with his project. He knew he needed an interview the Pro Choice army, he didn’t relish the thought maybe because of his anti establishment attitude that was formed in college, much like the Kent State shootings in 1970, there had been some unrest and the national police had repeated the scenario on a larger scale, they had killed thirteen students and faculty instead of four but Alex had been there and seen it all, he had smelled the gunpowder, seen the blood, and noted the lack of remorse of the killers. He had no love for the establishment but had learned to temper his views when he became a writer. I need more pictures he thought. This book wasn’t going to be a history lesson or a sensationalized fluff piece, if it was possible for the world to end, his reasons for living gone, this may be his Swan Song. Not a perfect life but it would be a productive one, to the end.
As he pulled up the Chendo pictures on the computer, the room became chilly very quickly; he glanced out the window to view the pounding rain for a moment. How do they dispose of the bodies? The ones from the clinics he wondered. He now knew one way they did it in China, He Goggled for what must have been two hours and came up with some ideas. A couple in particular picked his interest.
Alexander Bryan Reese
Alex Bryan Reese, six foot exactly, dark curly hair, born of Serbian linage, Jewish belief and surname, Redzic, changed by his great grandfather to Reese to ease integration when he brought his family to the United states as political refugee’s. Alex was proud of his family’s history, they were all survivors and strong people, his father had told him many tales of the hardships and triumphs the family had endured, the things that had directly and indirectly made him what he is. The story that had affected him the most and had pointed him to journalism happened in 1942 during World War Two and involved his great grandparents, the Serbs and the Russians were aligned when the Nazi’s were seeking global dominance. The Serbs that were loyal to the Nazi’s gathered up the Jewish Serbs in the town square for processing to a farm camp just outside of town. A fifty five gallon drum was placed at the front, everyone was instructed to place any valuables in the drum, money, jewelry anything they had that was worth anything. To the left of the front of the line, a woman, whom had hidden a piece of jewelry in her hair, was shot in the head and left bleeding and very dead, to get the point across that they meant business. His great grandfather, not a wealthy man by any means had just bought his great grandmother a new pair of ruby red earrings, which she cherished. They quietly decided that he would take the chance and hide them in the side of a storm sewer they were standing next to. They passed through the line without incident and were taken by truck to an open air farm camp, just north of their home in the countryside. The camp had no walls or fencing but they were kept on such subsistence that few had the strength to escape. At night some of the stronger men and young boys would sneak out into the countryside foraging for food. At one point Alex’s Great grandfather came upon a local farmer and made an arrangement that in exchange for his wife’s new ruby earrings, he would deliver one potato a day to the family. He snuck back into town and retrieved the earrings, knowing he would be shot on sight if discovered, and delivered them to the farmer; the farmer kept his end of the bargain and this is how his ancestors survived. It left an indelible impression on Alex that couldn’t be taken, by anyone.
What Next?
Alex needed some time, time to reflect…. time to figure out just how the hell he was going to put this project together, under the radar, until it was done and ready for print. He needed a change of venue, he could fly, but the average ten to twelve hour wait to
board a commercial plane was defiantly straining the system. Several airliners had been brought down with shoulder fired rockets, so the whole experience was becoming extremely uncomfortable for everyone involved, Alex decided to take a road trip, following the 101south, take in some scenery and clear his mind and try to figure out how to get an interview with the pro choice people without sending up red flags. His destination would be Baja, he had never surfed but had always admired the grace and skill it took to pull it off, maybe he would try it. It was time to move the toys from the attic take a sanity break then get back to work.
The drive along the coast was just what the doctor ordered. The top was down on his convertible the whole trip. He had let his hair grow to his shoulders and it felt good blowing in the wind. With his radio volume knob on eleven, he was singing at the top of his lungs to Jimmy Buffett , Live from Del Boca Vista. His beard now a thing of the past he considered what he might do first when he got to Baja. Maybe a tattoo or an earring, lots of guys approaching middle age get em…, na, he thought, I’m too old for that shit..
The Earth
The planet, ever changing was upping the ante, it seemed to be shedding it’s skin again. It had happened since the beginning of time, the dinosaurs were victims. Winters globally were lasting only about forty five days with temperatures averaging ten to fifteen degrees above normal. Volcanoes that had laid dormant for thousands of years were now beginning to show signs of activity; tsunamis struck the east with no warning. New unknown drug resistant strains of the common diseases were leaving the medical community scratching their collective heads. Floods, landslides drought and wildfires were things that indigenous people generally had accepted as a price for living in their particular paradise, but the frequency was becoming alarming. Domestic animals and wildlife were becoming extremely aggressive. Animals the had traditionally avoided contact with humans now were hunting them. The incidence of rabies in both warm and cold blooded animals had people so scared that treasured family pets were euthanized immediately, upon reaching a shelter. Packs of domesticated dogs were stocking the streets preying on anything that moved with a brutality that hadn’t been known in this century.
The New World Union
The new World Union had been relatively easy to bring to fruition; after all, it had been in the works in some capacity for centuries. Its beginnings had pre-dated most of the worlds living, breathing ancient Gods and profits. It was the result of “Secret Societies” beginning with “The Brotherhood of the Snake” originating in ancient Mesopotamia, much latter to become Iraq. The snake had, from the beginning been revered as the symbol of spiritual enlightenment and thus adopted through time as the symbol for countless institutions. The bible’s Adam and Eve had crossed paths with the snake and the medical field in latter years adopted the snake symbol for their coat of arms. So, the New World Union in fact was not new, but the logical conclusion to thousands of years of grooming of the finest leaders, thinkers and fighters. The blood lines had been cleansed to each cultures view of perfection. New religions the world over, at inception were always considered cults, or secret societies, the most prolific being Catholicism. Most of the ones that survived had done so, mainly through violence and intimidation. Twelve unknowingly had secured their seat in the New World Union through man’s need to conquer, control, achieve a higher consciousness and to survive. The New World Union’s twelve seated members were a think tank of brilliance, a modern day royalty if you will. Each had personal mission and skill, and had sworn an oath to the other eleven. Their ultimate goal was the preservation of The Union and more importantly, at all costs, preserve the knowledge and enlightenment, passed to them through thousands of years of knowledge through human pain and suffering. The chosen twelve were unknown to anyone. There was no record of their birth. No pictures, no footprints. They had found each other and formed the union electronically. The twelve were brought together by an unknown force. They would never meet in person or see what the other looked like. they could be five thousand miles apart, or standing next to each other, and wouldn’t know.
The forming of the New World Union took very little time. Most of the world had been in a depression for over five years barring some third world countries. The United Nations had moved to an electronic paperless currency in an attempt to standardize the monetary system. All the NWU needed to do was flip the switch on international banking, re-write the rules and begin implementing their agenda. The UN was out the NWU was now in.
Controlling the worlds alarming population growth was their first order of business. Planned Zero Corporation was formed and based on the Securitate, the Departamentul Securitatii Statului, or state security department which had been the secret service for communist Romania until 1989. It had been one of the most brutal but effective secret police agencies in history. The general consensus of NWU was that once the population explosion was in check, the human ranks needed to be thinned by twenty five percent of the continuing burdens on the world’s resources, including, but not limited to, the old and infermate, the diseased, the homeless, Homosexuals, opposing political activists and finally, those whom have children whom are not licensed by the PZC to do so. After the human ranks are brought down to specs, one dies, one may be born, no exceptions. Zero population growth.
Baja
As Alex pulled into the motel, he thought to himself, this is where he should be living, I could surf all day and write all night, do a little fishing, watch the girls on the beach and in general, just screw off, how much does that pay? He smiled to himself. With time and his work, the pain of loosing his family was easing up ever so slightly. As Alex started to feel human again he also started to feel pangs of loneliness. His job sometime involved long periods of time spent by him, but having his family as an anchor it was much easier to deal with. Maybe it’s time to let the world back in a little, maybe even go on a date, God forbid.
Room number thirteen, Why do I keep running across that number, he looked at his watch, It’s Friday the thirteenth, glad I’m not superstitious he muttered to himself. His room was on the second floor with a bull eye view of the Pacific and a breeze that approached orgasmic. He opened every window; put his stuff away, all the while trying to figure out what he wanted to do first. “I’m tired”, think I’ll take a nap; he grabbed the TV remote, found a good news program he was out in a moment.
Alex woke up to a blaring T.V. report about the population explosion, globally. Twins, Triplets and quadruplets were being born in unprecedented numbers all over the world. Where was this coming from? The PZC, had to be going mad, how they will handle this new crisis. There’s no way they will let these babies be born.
The cities biggest hospital was close enough but he wasn’t quite sure where it was, I’ll let someone else navigate, Alex grabbed his bag and hailed a cab, I can relax later he thought. The ride was calming and Alex used the time to fiddle with his camera and make sure everything was in working order. As they approached the hospital, Alex asked his driver to circle around the back; he was looking for waste disposable sites or in general, dumpsters. Alex knew that there were so many small bodies that the government had started throwing them out with the trash. They approached a big dumpster and he asked the driver to stop. He would take some pictures, if for no other reason to keep in practice and maybe add a little more drama to his project. The sliding door was open on the huge box was open; he could see colors inside that took him back to the Seattle explosions. He was very uneasy taking pictures in the back of a hospital because of the implications it may have if he was seen by the wrong people..
Alex took, frame after frame, not knowing how deep he was in.
He really didn’t want to view the pictures tonight, but it was like passing a car wreck and rubbernecking, he had to look. As the computer loaded the pictures, as he stuffed a lime in his Corona he realized, this was a reality he was still having a hard time warming up to. As his new pictures one by one appeared he took a drink. Were they throwing babies away in the garbage? What the……………The man………. the man from the Chendo trail, was standing beside the dumpster, Alex recognized his profile, same dark hair, same strange clothes, he had the same old ratty bag around his shoulder and apparitions were coming out of the box, much more than he could count, he was putting them in his bag. No sane person would believe this, I don’t believe it myself.
Planned Zero Corporation, headquarters, Washington, D.C.
Alex got his interview with Planned Zero Corp. He had to fly to D.C. to get it, he mentally noted, he hadn’t seen anything else written about the PZC lately other than their propaganda, be it television ad’s, computer blogs and the giant billboards all over the country, The BBC had managed to snake a little information here and there but they had been neutered like the rest of the worlds press, other than that the PZC were tight lipped about about everything except what they wanted the public to know.
Alex handed his national I.D. to the guard, these guy’s never have a sense of humor he thought, they watched him slide the card through the reader. Mister Reese, you are expected at gate 3A, make an imitate left, then a sharp right, park in number thirteen? there will be a guard to escort you in.
Alex parked, and sat in the running car for a moment, number thirteen? That’s getting old. He had a whole mental list of questions for these people, now he was drawing a blank.
As he walked into the room Alex was awed by the shear size of the inside of the building, it was fucking huge; everything in it was lighted, beeped or shined. You could have eaten off the floor. He marveled at the magnitude and organization of the PZC.
I will give you ten minutes Mr. Reese, The words coming from a man that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Alex turned to face the man, he thought he recognized him but couldn’t put his finger on it. The man was impeccably dressed, long black hair, he had a presence indicative of a much taller man, extremely well spoken with an accent he had never encountered and had an air about him that was so intimidating that it set Alex aback for a moment. The man stared into Alex’s eyes like he could see right through to his soul, the man knew him also.
My name is Baptist Homet, Mr. Reese, why are we having this conversation?
Mr. Homet, I’m trying to document these unusual times, put things in prospective, you would agree that the world is in what could turn out to be a fatal turmoil, I think… I’m just trying to make some sense of all the monumental changes that are occurring daily, a journalistic time capsule, a short history book, just in case we survive all of this.
We are people that are charged with keeping the world population in control Homet lamented, among many other things. We understand that children and childbirth like nature are going to happen regardless of laws, the problem being, the population is growing at rate that in five years, the world won’t be able to sustain its numbers. The flock must be thinned. This is the way it is, Mr. Reese, and the way it will be. I have been aware of you and your work and that is the only reason you got in the door. The only advice I might have for you is, watch your step, “The man who is swimming against the stream should know the strength of it” I have an appointment now, forgive me, I don’t shake hands; He turned and walked through an automatic door and was gone.
What a weird assed interview that was, I didn’t recognize the accent, Alex thought, it wasn’t even ten minutes, what the hell are these people up to. I know that guy from somewhere, how does he know me? I know he will show up in a nightmare. I just hope I’m asleep when he does.
Alex headed back to Seattle, it would be a long flight but he would use his time to start putting things in order, it’s not like there was wasn’t plenty of holes in his program to fix. Unfortunately, order, wasn’t one of his strong suits.
Lets see, clergy killing doctors, doctors killing children, the world in the midst of a global depression, Israel now a glass parking lot, nature fighting back, bugs that went away with common antibiotic weren’t going away anymore, the birthrate explodes for what ever reason, half his city was in ruins, is it the apocalypse? What the hell do I do with this? What do I do now.
Hart Island, the Bronx, New York
“Then Judas, which had betrayed Him, saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests … and they took counsel, and bought with them the potters field to bury strangers in.”
The Gospel of St. Matthew (27:3-8)
Hart Island, the Bronx in the Long Island Sound is a cemetery with a long interesting history; it had been purchased from the Indians originally and had been used for everything from a prison during the civil war, a Tuberculosis hospital, an insane asylum, a disciplinary barracks for the military and even a drug rehab facility. It was now a potter’s field, a final resting place for the unbefriended, disowned, unknown and unwanted. Alex had read an article about the barge that delivered the many unknown, unclaimed bodies to this, one hundred acre plus island for final disposal in the New York Times years back before all American newspapers were consolidated into the “National online Press”. He had also heard through the grapevine that it was the regional disposal site for unwanted babies and a body farm, Alex was getting semi used to the abortion issue but this body farm thing was a new horror he didn’t need but was compelled to learn about. Alex’s understanding was that there were certain areas controlled by the government that placed dead bodies in different elements being left in water, in the sun and virtually any human death scenario, to study the decomposition of the human body.
The island was now run by the PZC and was off limits to everyone and for some reason heavily guarded except for the prisoners and guards that were bussed there daily from the George W. Bush federal Prison formally Rikers Island Prison. It was estimated that well over 750,000 souls had been laid to rest since the mid to late 1800’s. I’ll bet the last few years that had become just a drop in the bucket, thought Alex. I’ve got to check it out, but how? What do I have to lose; I’ll rent a boat and do a little covert investigating.
The next evening, as the last remnants of the sun were hiding behind the skyscrapers Alex set off for Hart Island. Just naming the place Hart Island seemed kind of like an oxymoron to him but who was he to be critical. Alex had limited experience piloting a boat but had been on a few over the years and it had never looked like rocket science to him. He would take it slow, find a cove to hide the boat in and take as many pictures as he could, then get the hell out. He wondered what the sentence would be if he was caught and lived, how would he explain just what he was doing hanging out with thousands of dead bodies and an extremely high end camera full of pictures from a place the government obviously didn’t want anyone to see.
By the time he found a place to moor the boat, it was so dark that he couldn’t see his hand in front of him. The only light was from the moon and refracting light from the city, It danced on the water to it’s own rhythm, this is too weird as the reality of what he was doing set in. He almost turned back, but was too intrigued with the idea of something being there that was so important that the PZC had to guard it. Alex stumbled through the rocks and dirt for a time. He looked up and in front of him was the memorial that the inmates had built in 1948 honoring the unwanted dead. He could only see the outline clearly but he understood the significance. He raised his camera and took some shots of the brick monument then started looking for other targets. The air was heavy with the smell of death mixed with smog and salty air, it was all around him. He tried to imagine all the ugly things that had and may still be transpiring on this piece of rock. He walked for a moment, trying to be as quiet as he could then stepped on something that made him stop in his tracks. A soft spot in the ground, he didn’t want to use his flashlight but he had to see, it was a pit, recently filled in, he could make out the edges, about fifty feet in diameter, he took a mental note. Alex bend down and with his hand scooped away some dirt, in the moonlight he could see little arms and legs then a face very small, dried blood and dirt caked all over some. He froze, my God what are they doing here? He grabbed his camera and started firing off shots of everything he could. The rising moon might just give him enough light, my God what have they done? As he gathered his composure and turned to rush back to the boat he heard in a distance “hey you, halt”. He saw several flashlights cutting the night in haphazard patterns coming in his direction he guessed maybe three hundred yards away, he had forgotten to turn his off, as he did he took off running, he ran faster than he had ever run before, never looking back until he reached the boat, he threw his camera into the boat as he dove over the starboard side onto the floor, luckily that’s where he had left the key, he raised up and jammed the key into the ignition and held his breath until it fired. As he opened the throttle, he heard gunshots, from automatics no less, they’re shooting at me? Some of the rounds were hitting the boat, he could hear them recherché off the fiberglass. Alex bent down as far as he could behind the console and held his breath, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
The hotel was pitch black when he opened the door; he quickly locked the deadbolt and with his back to the door sank to the floor. It’s just a matter of time until they find me. Fuck’em he growled, if I’m going down they will go with me, the world will know what they are doing by the time I get done. Alex put the memory card in his laptop and impatiently waited for his new pictures to appear. The camera he was using was the best he could find and more than he could afford without a job. At this point his savings were getting low, well beyond his comfort zone. If he was lucky, these shots would fix that issue. He was amazed at how many exposures he could get with one push of the shutter. As the screen clarified he noticed how well the camera had cut through the dark, there were shadows and some shots that he couldn’t make out but…….. my God, his blood ran cold. Alex started shaking; the same man from the other pictures was there, old shoulder bag and all. As he watched the screen, his jaw dropped. Again he was connecting with apparitions, this time they were coming out of the ground, thousands of them, the man grabbing them and stuffing them in the bag at a super human speed, he could tell because he had his shutter speed on 1/12,000 and some of the pictures with movement were blurred. As his heartbeat started to even out he slowly began scanning the hundreds of pictures in sequence. The man was facing and staring at Alex, about twenty feet away, in each picture he was moving closer to Alex by what he guessed to be inches, when Alex had lifted his finger from the shutter he was so close to Alex’s face he could feel and almost smell his breath coming from the screen, the man had steely dead eyes, the same dark hair and an evil look of contempt, a slight crooked smile. A look Alex had seen before, he knew this man, it was Baptiste Homet, from the PZC.
“In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king”
Nothing is evil which is according to nature.”
-Marcus Aurelius
The name Baptiste Homet had been bumping from side to side in Alex’s his head since he had met him. To say the least it was an unusual name. He googled it and the only thing he came up with was some guy in France that defiantly wasn’t him. Alex fiddled with the letters in the name taking one from the first name and then the last name. He had done research for a story years ago on secret societies and had run across a similar name……just much shorter….actually it was a one word name,…I got it, he removed the the last five letters from Baptiste and joined the remaining letters, Baphomet. Alex typed in the new name. He wasn’t ready for what popped up. Baphomet it seems was the demon that some of the Knights Templar had referred to as a God they prayed to, when they were being tortured by King Phillip the 1V’s inquisitors at the beginning of the thirteenth century. Baphomet, the name was a combination of two Greek words (baphe and metis) and meant ‘absorption into wisdom.’ . Two hundred and thirty one Knights Templars were tortured and burned at the stake but only twelve had admitted to knowing anything about Baphomet, Twelve? As in the new world order twelve? Alex fought to concentrate, I can’t be the only dumb ass to have put this together. What about the aberrations, I couldn’t be imagining them, I have the pictures, I’m not that far gone. No, every time I turn around this Baphomet is in my face. With his shoulder bag and ghosts. No, not ghosts thought Alex… souls…….that’s exactly what Baphomet is collecting. I saw him on the trail in Chengdo, he was collecting unwanted children’s souls, I saw him in Mexico collecting unwanted childrens souls and Harts Island. Why am I the only person that has caught him on film? Alex sat back in his chair for a moment and re ran the mental tape of the last several months. His reason for living had been deeply diminished with his losses, I think we all need to make peace with our Gods. Our time is short. Something big is going to happen. Are humans destined to be extinct?
Alex wasn’t sure what to do next, his fight or flight reflex had a definite flight, tilt. If the scriptures were correct and Satan was already among us and he was guessing this Baphomet had some involvement somewhere. He could try to warn people, Who’s going to believe his ghost stories?, He was there and was still questioning his own sanity. It was time to go where no one else was. At least if nothing happened, maybe he could sell the story to Stephen King. That guy’s the King of creepy, no pun intended as he smiled to himself.
Alex pulled an Atlas from his only bookshelf and began leafing through it, as he did his mind started to wonder. Many of the recorded and predicted signs had come true, mans utter contempt for his fellow humans, mans disregard for life in general, his lack of compassion, man had lost the very things that made him human. The weather, climate changes, it was almost like the earth was in the process of disowning mankind. What have we done to ourselves Alex whispered under his breath as he turned the page.
When his apartment had been bombed virtually everything Alex owned had been lost. With his new nomadic lifestyle he had decided not to replace anything , after all, the very things he cherished in life were the very things that couldn’t be replaced.The only pictures he had left were in his battle worn wallet.
Alex decided on British Columbia, it was only forty miles or so up the coast. It was cold in the winter but fairly temperate in the summer. If he went far enough into the mountains no one would ever find him and if his prediction was true he might be able to buy a little time, for what, he didn’t know. Alex had to purchase virtually everything he would need, luckily there was a wilderness outfitters chain fairly close and Alex had made a several page list of what he would need to camp for at least six months. He bought freeze dried foods, powdered drinks, a short wave radio, a small generator, a deep cycle boat battery, tools, a four man tent, sleeping bags and a gun and several hundred rounds of ammo, Alex hated guns, he could shoot well, but still didn’t like them. It was a semi automatic Winchester 30:06. When Alex’s S.U.V. was finally loaded he couldn’t see out the back. He headed home where he would go over his list several more times that evening. I don’t think I’ll be using that credit card anytime soon he chuckled out loud. I think that I’m going to feel pretty stupid if I’m over reacting but I’ll keep a diary of the whole thing and if it turns out that I’m just delusional, maybe I can compile my notes and write my book at the funny farm. He lay in bed going over detail after detail. His lease had long since expired and he had been on a month to month. He had left a note and a check at the leasing office. I hope I’m doing the right thing; But Alex had always followed his instincts, they had never failed him.
Highway one north had always had the same effect as highway one south on Alex, the ocean was always cleansing whether it be cold or warm. As long as it was on one side of him he was happy. Alex approached customs, nervous as everyone is when facing “The man”. As he pulled up to the stone faced officer Alex smiled, do you have anything to declare? No said Alex. The Canadian officer stared deep into Alex’s eyes and asked, what is your business, as he alternated between looking at his license as he surveyed the packed SUV from his booth. I am on a camping trip, you know; get back to nature and all that crap. You are the writer Alex Reese, ay? I’ve read some of your stuff, the customs agents face lit up with a gigantic smile, hey, what’s the deal with that church. Alex breathed a sigh of relief and attempted to explain, they’re all crazy, the customs agent laughed and waved him on.
Alex drove north until he came upon an exit to a mountain that seemed to be the right one. His instincts still in tact. He had his window open when he started his decent, as he got closer to the peak; the temperature had dropped a good 25 degrees. It was a rain forest, much like Chen Do, brilliant shades of green, lush foliage and air so clean he could actually smell vegetation.
Alex drove until the road ended, he couldn’t have painted a more perfect place to live. He was at the peak of a minor mountain, sheltered by giant pines with an almost 360 degree view Alex found a level piece of real estate next to a small river, fresh Salmon, that’s what I’m taking about. He started unpacking. He worked most of the morning just getting organized and spent the better part of two hours trying to figure out how to put his tent together. He should have learned more Chinese, if I had been a boy scout this damn thing wouldn’t have been an issue. He left the food in the SUV because of bears and other scavengers. He would have a constant supply of water from the river. He was feeling better already.
,Change alone is eternal, perpetual, and immortal.
Arthur Schopenhauer
Baphomet’s children…were warriors now, young men and women alike, their numbers in the millions, stood ready to re claim the kingdom that had been fore told in scriptures and writings almost since the beginning of time. Baphomet stood before them as their father and teacher, the general for the New Order. As he looked down on his children, he said nothing, they understood. They were to be “the Fifth Column”. The warriors within.
Baphomets children integrated themselves within the populations all over the world. They looked no different than anyone else, they had bad hair days, some had bad breath, some were pretty, some were tall, they were the same as everyone else except for one thing, they all had been thrown out with the garbage..
This story is a work in progress, I will add to it as time allows, thanks for viewing, sorry bout the spelling.
Steve
Copy write Steve Howell. 2008-9
