The Lighthouse of Mankind: Prologue

This is what happened after my 21st Century: The Age of Innocence post.
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“Where have you been?” Beatrice Lawrence sternly asked, when her son Sean went home way past bedtime. “Do you even got any idea what time is it?”

Sean sighed. “Dad asked me to accompany him for a meeting with his colleague,” he said, “didn’t he tell you?”

Beatrice’s face went red in anger. “If you’re trying to make excuses, that’s a very poor one, you ungrateful excuse of a living, your dad’s been with me before dinner and that’s six hours ago.”

“How come? He’s with me, he’s been closing the garage,” denied Sean. The clanging sound of garage slammed shut sounded pretty obvious in the background.

“That’s impossible,” said Beatrice. “Nate, are you there? Nate, honey?”

“Sorry, B–I really couldn’t stand Peter Harvey on my own, so I brought Sean.” Nathan’s voice was heard from the darkness of the garage. “You knew him.”

“Wait… you’ve been away this whole time?”

“Yes, I picked Sean up as soon as I was out of office. Sorry I didn’t tell you, the dinner must’ve been cold right now.”

“But Nate, I–I think you’ve been with me this entire night…” Beatrice’s face turned pale. “We… we’ve been together, you know.” She glanced at Sean and as soon as Nathan emerged from the garage, she whispered on his ear, “We even made love…”

“Hey, hey, are you sure it was me? I’m really not even in the mood of that right now.”

“I’m sure that’s you, for heaven’s sake–unless you have an identical twin who had a record of your traits and history, that’s totally you, Nate. We even talked about Harvey. You even told me about repairing the leaky attic tomorrow.”

“Strange, I do want to repair the attic tomorrow…”

“Did I see a doppelganger or something?” Beatrice’s voice sounded tired. “That’s totally weird, you felt completely real.”

“Don’t sweat on it, sweetie,” Nathan embraced her wife, comforting her. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Sean and I had dinner already, but I really need a shower right now.”

“Sean,” said Nathan, turning to the confused son, “just go to bed, alright? It’s a matter of me and your mom to discuss, I know that it’s strange but just forget about it, okay? Like it doesn’t happen at all.”

Sean totally agreed with his dad, he’d also been very tired to think about things right now. “Sure, Dad.”

He went upstairs to his bedroom, unintentionally overhearing his parents discussing about Peter Harvey and the leaky attic. Even if they’re talking about this late night’s madness, he didn’t care right now. He just felt so tired.

As he got upstairs, he saw his 9-year-old sister’s door open. It’s so unlikely that Janice would leave her door open when she’s asleep, and though the room’s dark, he could see Janice sitting on her bed, hugging her thighs. It looked like she’s been thinking of something too complicated for her age. Intrigued, Sean called her quietly.

“Janice?”

Janice looked back. There’s a confused but delighted expression on her face, delighted that he’s there to accompany her.

“Why don’t you sleep?” asked Sean. “For God’s sake, it’s two in the morning… way past bedtime for a 9-year-old.”

“I had a nightmare,” said Janice. Sean could notice her voice shaking. “I had this terrible dream of me playing in the sandbox at the playground near the school.”

“Was that terrible? I thought you had quite some fun playing in the sandbox all this time.”

“Don’t start again,” whimpered Janice. She’s almost crying. “At first I thought it was an antlion’s sand trap. But it’s getting bigger, the whole sandbox was sinking.”

“You’re too much watching TV,” said Sean. “Just sleep, okay? Listen, if you’re at my age you’ll find out that nightmares are pretty normal–it takes some getting used to.”

He turned and left, heading to his room. He was halfway through the door when Janice called her, her voice trembling with fear and her face’s almost as pale as a ghost. “Wait! Sean, please, don’t leave me alone… I’m scared.”

Sean sighed. “Deal with it, little sister, it’s just a dream.”

“I’m afraid it’ll come true!”

“Sandboxes don’t sink, okay? Now leave me alone, I’m too tired for all of this.”

“Let me sleep in your room, please… I’m scared!”

Janice leaped from her bed in a sudden jerk, as like there’s a ghost on her bed. She ran into Sean and held his hand with both of hers. Sean could feel the tiny hands ice-cold and that made him shiver.

“No way, I want to be left alone. Get off me.”

And as Janice kept holding onto him, he shook his hand off hers and pushed her back to her room again, before entering his, closing it, and locking it from the inside.

He could hear Janice crying from the outside. “You’re such a jerk! I hate having you as a brother!”

Whatever, he thought. Sometimes he could be very mean to his own sister, a way for him to blow off steam. He knew that it’s not right, but he enjoyed it–making his sister’s life miserable was somewhat a guilty pleasure for him. And whatever happened to her tonight, he didn’t care… he just wanted to sleep.
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When Sean woke up at the morning, he felt the threads of sunlight that shined through the curtains a little too intense, quite blinding for his unadjusted eyes. Wincing, he got up and checked out his cell’s digital clock. It’s seven. He stretched his body, yawning what’s left of his sleepiness, and headed out to brush his teeth. As he opened his door, how surprised he was to find Janice sleeping on the mat, curling in the coldness of the floor and the morning air, her face messy with dried tears. He couldn’t help to feel a little guilty, but for Sean, guilt is cowardice–and he’d been successfully got rid of it.

He just walked over her and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When the whole family was downstairs having breakfast, Janice didn’t tell everyone about last night. She’s just staring down at her plate, trying to eat her meal, and she avoided Sean’s glances.

It’s Saturday, so Sean didn’t have to worry about going to school. In fact he already had his plans for today, perhaps hanging out with his friends. But the plan had to wait, he thought, as he saw Janice finished her meal and putting it to the sink, before heading to the garage, taking her little bicycle. Nate had unlocked the garage door earlier, so she just went out. Even when her mother asked, she just told them that she “wanted to play in the sandbox near the school.”

Sean couldn’t help not to be concerned, and as his parents told her to look after her, he did that at once.

Dammit, thought Sean, what a crazy weekend this is.

Janice’s school was quite far from their house, and even Sean hesitated to bike there, so he grabbed his motorbike and went after Janice, but as he hit the road, he’d lost her. Amazed on how fast the girl went, he headed straight to the school, riding his bike as fast as possible without drawing the cops’ attention.

Shit, thought Sean, she’s cycling and I’m on my bike, and still I lost her… what’s wrong with her!?

Within twenty minutes Sean arrived at Janice’s school, and the playground’s not too far from it. He could see Janice’s bike already, lying near the sandbox she’d been telling about–Sean expected to arrive earlier, but seemed like she’s there first.

Sean parked his bike right outside the playground and went to the sandbox–where he found Janice squatting, poking at the center of the sandbox with a twig.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” spat Sean out as soon as he got her, “going out this far? You made Mom and Dad worried!”

Janice didn’t look away from the tip of the twig. “Didn’t I make you worried?” she asked back, haunting Sean with guilt.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s on your mind, but be quick or I’ll leave you here.”

Janice looked up, staring at Sean. “I wanted to tell you that night, when you just wouldn’t let me in. I wanted to tell you what it’s like, but you just wouldn’t let me in.”

Sean sighed. “Are you going this far just to make me feel guilty about what I did last night? If you are, then you’ve been successful.”

“My dream,” Janice continued, ignoring Sean’s words, “someone told me that it’s going to be true. There’s been someone before you who came to my room last night, and he told me that it’s going to be true. He really scared me. I was afraid that he’ll be coming back and got me, so I asked you to let me in, but you just wouldn’t let me. I slept next to your door, hoping that if he came back, you could hear my yelling and trusted me. But he didn’t come back.”

Her words stung deep to Sean’s heart, and he couldn’t help but to feel, sincerely, guilty. He couldn’t look at Janice’s eyes now, it’s felt too painful. But something else came into his mind–there’d been someone else in the house last night?

“Wait, you said that there’s someone else in the house last night?”

He glanced at Janice quickly, and he could see the fear in her eyes. The twig that she’s holding was shaking, as her tiny body trembling. Ever so slightly, she nodded.

So there’s somebody else in the house last night, thought Sean. How if she’s wrong; how if the stranger did bad things to her, and worse, to everyone in the house? I put her in a huge risk, but I was so stubborn not to let her in! Wait, it’s not being stubborn–it’s being mean. Being evil. No matter how she was a nuisance, I couldn’t put her in such a risk like that. She doesn’t deserve it.

“He looked like Dad,” told Janice, “but he’s not Dad. I knew it. He’s someone else. But he really looked like Dad. I knew that he’s not Dad, but I didn’t tell him, I was so scared. He asked me what happened, and I told him nothing. But he made me, and that made me scared, so I told him about my dream. And he told me that it’s going to be true, and he told me to watch out. Then he smiled before he left, the most horrifying smile I’ve ever seen.”

Sean reached out and get a hold of her shoulder. Her body was ice-cold, and she’s trembling even worse.

“Please, don’t tell Mom and Dad about this,” she begged. “Please! I don’t care what happened to me, but I don’t want something bad to happen to them. Please, if you love Mom and Dad, don’t tell them.”

Her words got Sean taken aback in guilt. “No, I won’t tell them, even if it’s only about you. I don’t want to put you in such a risk, no matter how jerky I was. You got my words.”

There’s a great relief in Janice’s eyes when she heard that. “Do you… do you really mean that?” she asked.

“Yeah. For this time only. Sorry for being such a jerk.” Sean smiled, for the first time, sincerely to his little sister.

Janice smiled back.

Suddenly something turned the two’s attention. The tip of the twig Janice’s holding sank into the sand as a cone of sinking sand swirled around it.

“That’s not a sand trap,” said Sean, while Janice jerked the twig off the sinking sand. “That’s not the work of antlions. Maybe there’s a hollow under this sandbox, and it can’t hold our weight. Get off, Jan, or we’re gonna sink!”

Both of them leaped off the sandbox, while the cone grew larger. There sure to be a hollow under the sandbox, and the sand is caving in. Just how deep is the sandbox? thought Sean. Maybe six to nine feet, but that’s rather unusual to build a sandbox that deep.

“See?” said Sean, as both of them watched the sand sinking. “The dream does come true, but it doesn’t turn up to be that bad, does it?”

Janice stood still, staring at the sinking sand. She was frozen, and Sean could see the fear back to her eyes. “It wasn’t just like this,” she said. “The sand was sinking, yes, but then the whole sandbox, then the ground sank together with the sand. It was the whole playground first, then the school, then the entire hill. Everything was sucked to the center, then there were a huge hole on the ground.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” said Sean. “That’s just too absurd to happen.”

“But he said it’ll happen, and it happens,” said Janice. “Quick, we have to go, or the sand will get us!”

Janice’s words seemed to be true, as Sean watched the whole sandbox turned into a sinking sand trap as the concrete walls broke and fell apart. He could feel movements on the ground he’s stepping on, and instinctively, he pulled Janice out to his motorbike. “You’re right, we gotta get out of here.” He started the engine as Janice’s bike started to slide to the center. A roaring sound followed, and it’s getting more and more intense, as the ground around them started to shift.

“Hold on tight!” yelled Sean, and Janice did so. Their bike quickly darted off and left the now sinking playground to the asphalt road.

“Holy shit,” said Sean, as he looked back and saw a huge cone of sand trap whirling behind them like a whirlpool of solid earth, pulling everything within its reach to the center in a thundering voice. Any structures caught within it broke apart, and pieces of it quickly joined the expanding piece of disaster. His eyes started to feel sore, as the huge sand trap spouted dust to the air, but he had no time to think about that right now. “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he yelled to overcome the roaring of the dust.

“No you’re not!” Janice’s squeaky voice yelled back. “We have to go downhill, the entire hill is going to sink!”

There were cars and bikes around them, all going downhill to avoid the catastrophic sand trap as far as possible. “Shit, there were people…” Sean looked around and saw people who couldn’t hold on to vehicles ran with all their might. “What the hell is truly going on? Did that dream tell you anything else?”

“I only saw the entire hill sinking, that’s all before I woke up!”

It turned up to a complete chaos; people started to pour to the street to get a hold on any passing vehicle. Cryouts like “Run! Run!” “It’s sinking!” or “Lemme out of here!” was heard all over the place. And there was this particular girl Sean ran into; she was thrown away and her head hit the ground with a loud SMACK.

“She’s bleeding!” yelped Janice. “You gotta help her!”

“There’s no time! Either she dies or we die!”

But the girl got up and with a might out of nowhere, she ran–head still bleeding–after their bike.

“She’s after us!” shrieked Sean.

“She’s bleeding! She could die! Please, just slow down!”

Slowing down sounded fair enough for Sean, so he did so. As he slowed down, the girl jumped to the back seat, squeezing Janice between her and Sean. “Don’t mind me, just keep moving!” she yelled.

The other people on the street who saw the girl’s maneuver seemed inspired with it, they started to chase other vehicles and jacked them. Sean knew that he couldn’t afford another passenger, so he sped up further downhill back to the suburbs.

The girl, bleeding too much, lost her consciousness and fell toward Janice and Sean. Janice grabbed the girl’s both hands and wrapped them around Sean while doing the same thing with her own hands, securing their position.

“It won’t get our home, will it?” shouted Sean.

“No! It’s only the entire hill!” replied Janice.

“Good! We’re heading home! Wait…”

He looked around and started slowing down. They’re already out of the hill, although the other people kept running away.

“What’s going on?” asked Janice, letting her head out of the girl’s body to look around as well.

“The sinkhole… it stopped expanding.”

Sean’s right; though still sinking, the sinkhole had stopped expanding. Their position was now higher than the sinking hill, and from their current place, they could see an amazingly terrible scene: the entire hill was torn apart from the other part of the city, hundreds of buildings around them were badly damaged, not to mention hundreds that were destroyed; and the yelling of people who were caught and dragged by the sinkhole, all dragged into the ground. So many casualties. So many damages. What the hell is going on here?

After a while, the roaring stopped–the ground had stopped sinking, leaving a huge, extremely deep hole on the ground. It was so deep that they couldn’t see the bottom even though the hole itself could reach a mile and a half in diameter. For a few minutes, there’s only silence; as there’s nobody else between them and the hole.

“I forgot to tell you something,” said Janice finally, after a long, tense silence. “Before he left, the man asked me one thing.”

Sean was too tired right now, but he couldn’t help but to pay attention. “What’s that?”

“Do you believe in the obvious?”

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t say a word,” said Janice, “but the answer is no. If I do, I wouldn’t notice that he’s not Dad. I was afraid if I told him, he’d be suspicious that I knew he’s not Dad.”

“Smart thinking,” said Sean. “You’re so smart, Jan.”

“That’s the first time you ever complimented me!”

“Uh-huh. How was the girl?” Sean was just aware, for the first time, of the girl’s presence. If she didn’t chase the bike with all her might, she would’ve died. It’s amazing what a human can do in the brink of death.

“I think we should bring her to the hospital,” said Janice.

“I don’t think we should,” Sean smiled. And he’s right. From the distance, helicopters, ambulances, and military trucks came in a response of disaster aftermath. “The hospital’s coming here on its own.”

Sean stood up and got off the bike, ever so carefully so that he didn’t hurt the unconscious girl. “Stay where you are, Jan, and help me get hold of this girl.” With Janice’s help, he lay the girl on the ground. That’s when he noticed the girl’s appearance–she was about eighteen, and was very beautiful. Simply the most beautiful girl Sean had ever seen, even compared to Hollywood actresses. Her brown hair was soaked in blood, added a little mess to this creation of beauty, but it didn’t spoil her beauty. Sean started to feel grateful that she survived, especially with his help. Her body was taut and thickly built, a result of regular intense physical activity, which quite explained how she could get up quickly even after her head was hit.

To Sean’s surprise, the girl got up. She held her head–the bleeding had staunched and the bloodstains had dried.

“Are you all right?” asked Sean, trying to reach her out, but she got up before he got her.

“Goodness…” she said, looking down at the huge hole. “What’s just going on? The people around me? They… they didn’t make it, did they?”

“It’s a miracle that you survived,” said Sean. “It happened so fast, it caught most of them by surprise.”

Janice got off the bike and got to the girl. “Are you alright? You look terrible.”

“Yes, I’m alright… I guess the bleeding’s staunched by now.”

Sean looked away in apology. “I’m sorry for hitting you back then,” he said. “If it’s not for my sister asking to slow down, I might’ve left you alone.”

The girl, though a bit shocked, did not seem to be traumatized by the disaster. She was strangely looked like a prepared soldier in a mission. And she didn’t even disturbed by the fact that Sean almost killed her–she didn’t respond to Sean’s apology. Perhaps she’s just too optimistic, or the impact had caused her to be quite absent-minded.

“It’s glad to see you’re OK,” said Janice after a long pause. “I’m Janice, and this is my brother Sean.”

“Nice to meet you, Janice,” she smiled to the little girl, “and you, Sean,” she turned to Sean, but she didn’t smile. Guess I’ve got what it takes for almost leaving her to die, thought Sean. “I’m Nicolette,” she continued.

The sound of helicopter rotors distracted them. Not only helicopters–VTOLs–aircraft vessels designed for vertical take off and landing–were filling the air around them, while the land vehicles came closer.

As the chopper and VTOLs landed, an army man yelled, “We’ve got survivors here!”

In a moment, the site was surrounded by all sort of people–from the army and paramedics who tried to seek for casualties and survivors, news reporters looking for information, and other people–some of which Sean remembered as fellow survivors who returned to the site once the disaster was over–who just wanted to watch. All of a sudden, the three of them were surrounded by those people.

The army men pushed everyone else behind them, while one of them, a black man which seemed to be an officer closed by. “So you two are survivors?” he asked.

Two? Sean looked around, but there were only he and Janice.

“Where’s Nicolette?” whispered Sean to Janice.

“She was here a second ago, but she told me that we’ll meet again,” said Janice. “I think we shouldn’t tell everyone about her.”

Sean agreed with Janice–he didn’t want everyone to know that he ran into her with his motorbike.

The officer, a US Army Major, gave orders to his men to search for other survivors before he turned back to the two. “I’m Major Reed Taylor from the US Army,” he said, giving a gesture for the two of them to come with him. “I was receiving order to bring the two of you to St. Olga a few minutes ago. You’ll be escorted there with one of the VTOLs.”

Both Sean and Janice gasped. “But, we’re supposed to be going home,” said Sean. “Are our parents informed about this?”

“They will be,” said the Major. “You’ll get the details once you’re on the way.”
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21st Century: The Age of Innocence

The boy sat next to the TV, playing some stacks. He didn’t necessarily watched the TV, but his ears were listening. The TV was left on by his father who left for work in a hurry just a while ago, and his mother was probably too busy to even notice.

The TV screen displayed a random array of colorful lights and some people dancing in a robot-like style, which didn’t bother the boy. It was the song that turned the boy’s attention, and the message hidden among the lyrics that everyone didn’t notice but a very young, innocent boy. To the boy, the song was heard like “Internet killed the movie stars”, for that’s the only line he could understand. The catchy recurrence of that part of lyrics caught the boy, and all of a sudden, he was mesmerized by the entire display of the program.

Not for long, though, before his mother returned from the kitchen and switched the channel to his discomfort.

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Several years later, the grownup boy was browsing some audio CDs with his friends in a local CD store. Sean was his name. He seemed excited in contrast with the other boys. One of them, Brett, just looked around and yawned a little before turning to Sean, saying:

“C’mon, man, this place is a museum. What’s fancy in browsing CDs when you can just download them at home?”

Sean was viewing an album on his hands while the question got his mind. “I feel more like having something when it’s present in my room physically. Look at the album, look at everything they added in its case. Most of them are stuff you can’t download from the Internet.”

Wallace, another guy, raised his brow comically and said, “The fact that they’re sold in albums bothers me. Music are better released in singles, that’s how we know what’s quality and what’s shit.”

Sean opened the case of the CD he’s holding–the album must’ve interested him. “Almost a century ago, all radio stations were broadcasting album-oriented rock. If you’re saying that in the 1970s, you’re not going anywhere.”

“That’s it, Sean–you’re stuck in the past.”

“Hell, we’re bored–Sean, we’re leaving.”

“Wait, where are you two going?”

“Sasha and Penny are waiting for us in Burger Queen. We’re gonna hang out Beyond the Bars tonight. Are you with us?”

“Yeah, just a few–”

“Catch ya up later,” Wallace waved his hand, and left the place with Brett.

Sean sighed at the sight of their back and the door slamming shut. He looked back at the album he’s holding, and smiled a bit–at least he’d got what he’s looking for.

“Those kids don’t live in the 20th century.” Sean looked up and saw the half-aged storekeeper approaching him. “You’re something rare–brings me back to the old days.”

“Thanks, Mr. Lopez. They just can’t see it.”

“I see that you’re sharing enthusiasm with your father. He also lived in the the 20th century, but it’s your grandfather who lived in the age of AOR.” Mr. Lopez returned to the counter as Sean led there to pay. “CDs are uncommon these days, and those people are just stupid for passing by on this very generous offer. Collectors could pay a couple of grands for a CD of Prince and I’m selling them here for just ten bucks.”

“My dad now starts collecting vinyls and cassettes,” said Sean, putting the CD on the counter. “He said that it’ll bring him back half a century further.”

“I have some names and numbers that can help your dad,” said the storekeeper. “I’ll e-mail you for that. Well, what do we have here?”

“It’s Ron Lewis’ Discover,” Sean watched as Mr. Lopez put the CD in a plastic bag. A smile grew on his face. “Internet Killed the Movie Star.”

“Quite explains,” said Mr. Lopez, taking the money from Sean and returning the changes. “You really brought me back to the old days, when thousands of new-release CDs were sold fresh in stores. These days you can’t buy CDs or DVDs without pre-ordering them. Well, Lewis wrote it based on an older song by the Buggles, ‘Video Killed the Radio Star.’”

“Cool, do you have one?”

“Stock naught,” the shopkeeper consulted his smartphone, “but I promise I’ll get one by next week. I’ll e-mail you when it’s here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Lopez.”

Sean walked out of the store to the pavements of 11 Central Ave in downtown Arkantos. Welcome back to the 21st century, he thought. The age of innocence.

At the corner of the city square, Sean saw a street prophet preaching to a number of people. Funny to see that some people really don’t have a life. Street prophets began their preach somewhere in 2041, and now in 2049, they’re quite common. They preached the end of the world, and people viewed them as a sign of the end of the world. But the street prophet was nothing of his concern right now–he couldn’t wait to play his CD.

I’ll rip the CD as soon as I got home… wait, oh shit. I’m supposed to be hanging out at Beyond the Bars. But to hell with them, I’ve got my business. He took two pill-shaped plug earphones out of his pocket and plugged them on, before setting the wireless of his palmtop for radio cast receiver. Let’s see what’s on air.

Elmo Lawrence’s Journal: Before the Flight

DISCLAIMER: The World Government, the United Resistance, the Lobotol Army, the SFOXAS, the United States Reformed, the plasma gun, the Vylar, and the Cyron movement, are subject of author’s creativity. Note that none of such had existed in the real world at the time this note was made.
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The ride through Minneapolis was a pleasant one for Elmo Lawrence, if only he had nothing else in mind. About eight million people lived in the prospering city almost intact by the world wars–except that at the beginning of the World War III, where the World Government Army took over the Twin Cities and the whole state of Minnesota in a highly efficient blitzkrieg sweep operation. The term ‘peaceful revolution’ coined by the World Government elites referred to this momentous operation, of which none of the citizens were killed or harmed during the takeover. The reigning Governor of Minnesota at that time, Zebulon Warding, instantly surrendered to the WGA following the earlier surrender of 12th Army Division of Minnesota. The Twin Cities then, under the reign of Military Governor General A. T. Keqta, were merged into the city of Minneapolis by August 2053, while Minneapolis being the Lower City and Saint Paul being the Upper City. Hundreds of thousands of refugees had flocked in from all over the war-torn States every year since then, causing the population to skyrocket and the city itself to become one of the largest cities in the world post World War III–with Arkantos being the largest (of 38 million population).

However, even with a vast number of immigrants flocking into the city each year, the new government was able to contain them–even improve their condition. They established infrastructures at the same rate with demands, no matter how high they were–an evidence of a perfect city planning backed up with an infinite source of funding, not only in Minneapolis, but in all World Government-occupied cities Elmo had visited. The WGA regulators and their SFOXAS extreme measure squad did more than necessary to keep the United Resistance at bay, leaving the urban areas intact by war, no matter how tough it was outside the borders. Just like the old USA foreign policies, Elmo thought, the last place for battlefield is the backdoor of their own country.

World Government territories were always peaceful, even progressing, while the rest of the world is at war, and the effects are predictable–people turned their favor towards them. One by one citizens of the occupied regions started to accept the new system the World Government employed, thus believed that a One World Government is the most suitable system with the globalized post-World War III world. Every year the World Government gained new territories, mostly not through war–they were lining up to surrender, to integrate with the World Government and its system.

At the time the World War IV broke, United Resistance was made of all freedom fighters in the world and their patriotism spirit summed up. But, as the war wages on, the young, energetic and revolutionary, saw the opportunity the new system gave–how the world regulated by the World Government was far better in every aspect than the pre-World War III world. They saw a chance the World Government offered to humanity in general, a chance of living a better life with a better system with harmony and balance in it. They learned that people of the pre-war world were forced to choose between humanity and Earth, a hard choice which left humanity running in circles for decades while the Earth was still decaying. The World Government offered them a chance to live freely without such concern–an opportunity impossible to miss by humanity’s generation of hope. Most of them then turned to the World Government–and recently, the United Resistance consisted mostly of the old people being shadows of their former countries’ glory, what’s left of their spirit of freedom. With most of their revolutionary motor gone, the United Resistance could barely stood a chance. By the end of World War IV, which Elmo predicted would be somewhere between 2066 and 2067, the world would be a unification under the World Government, and a new era of humanity would begin.

The World War IV was both a war physically and a war of belief, and the World Government was winning in both of them. It was clear for Elmo– he too, he could’ve been siding with the World Government, but he knew there’s something behind it.

“Honestly,” said Mindy Amberton, a young woman Elmo encountered on his mission in Minneapolis and currently driving his car, “I think the reestablishment of the old United States is ridiculous. The USR is a joke. They just couldn’t see the greater picture, being brainwashed by their patriotism and thousands of hours in battle.”

Elmo merely sighed. He’s lying on his back in a position he deemed most comfortable, watching the scenery of the city as they crossed the Mississippi through the World Government-built Minneapolis Bridge, dedicated to the city itself as being a symbol of the Peaceful Revolution. One wouldn’t aware that the world was ever at war in Minneapolis–Elmo found out that it was true in all World Government-occupied cities.

“And so everyone of your age would say,” Elmo grinned. “I begin to see the World Government as a sort of popular culture.” He enjoyed the way his words irritated Mindy.

“Very funny. Is that how everyone in the USR see things? No wonder the war does not stop, you closed-minded, narrow-thinking bigots blinded of your old times…”

“Hey, I take offense in that,” said Elmo, though he didn’t really. “I don’t belong to the USR. I don’t belong to anything but myself.”

“So what are you,” Mindy asked carefully, glancing at the .45 heavy duty handgun on Elmo’s lap, “a random terrorist?”

Elmo burst in laughter. “Hell that’s the last thing in the world I would be! You don’t know how chaotic it was at the time the WWIII started. There were riots raging everywhere, people burning, looting, killing–they’re called the Savage. Can’t blame them, it’s mankind’s basic instinct. When they learned that order had failed, they seemed to recall the animal genes in them. The World Government was quick to contain them, though. All of them were piled up in a part of the city–every city where there were Savage outbreaks–and the World Government’s Vylars evaporate them into fertilizers. Funny, the sight of terror in their faces after all they’d done–most started to kill each other before the Vylars got them. Some claimed that they saw God floating, ordering the WG tyrants to accept their redemption. Others simply shat their pants–the most embarrassing thing to do before you die.” Elmo laughed on his own words. “No, I think the last Savage gene had been exterminated ten years ago. It’s impossible that I could be one of them.”

Mindy didn’t take impression in Elmo’s story. “You’re doing favors for the USR. If you’re not one of them, I bet you’re some sort of contract killer.”

Elmo laughed again. “You bet,” he said, wiping his nose with his index finger. “I could be. Or I couldn’t be. It could happen to anyone, couldn’t it? Oh, what does that matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me,” snapped Mindy, “you’ve involved me in all of this!”

“Hang on,” said Elmo evasively, “we’re not taking a Maglev ride, are we?”

He noticed that they’re heading to a Maglev metro station at the heart of the Upper City. Maglev is short of magnetic-levitation, trains which levitates on railways due to electromagnetic repulsive force similar to those of the late 20th century. The difference is, mid-21th century Maglev did not harness electromagnetic levitation–they harnessed the Earth’s magnetic field so that they did not require rails. Cars were still wheeled since the World Government held the mass-production of Maglev cars until the end World War IV to increase public pressure against the United Resistance. “What else could it be?” asked Mindy, as if Elmo had asked something that’s already obvious. “You’re not thinking we’ll be leaving by plane, are you?”

“Do you think that shit-laden baggage I’m carrying will pass the security?”

Mindy scratched her head. “Well, I don’t think that far.”

“Hell you should,” Elmo shouted frustratedly, “once they’ve found the scene, we’ll be fugitives!”

“So,” said Mindy sulkily, “what’s the cute plan?”

“To the marshaling yard,” ordered Elmo, “we’re going to hitch on one of those cargo trains. We probably need to perform some evasive maneuvers when we cross the borders. Well, first, we’ve gotta find the maintenance hatch door to the subterranean yard–entering through the front door is suicide.”

“Oh,” he continued, “and never let your face being exposed to them–they’ll reconstruct the faces of their agents to the likes of yours, and doing so, they’ll be more than able to compromise the Cyrolab security. Remember I told you that Cyrolab will be the only safe place for you after all of this? So don’t let them.”

“Alright,” said Mindy, turning the car to the marshaling yard’s direction. “And what we’re gonna do with this car? Would they be able to track us down if we leave this?”

“Take the valuables–I’ll salvage the car of its microfusion drive, so that it will not explode as I evaporate it with plasma. Sides, I need the microfusion drive for my Elmo Gun component.”

He noticed the tension on Mindy’s face while she drove. She’s got the sense of how dangerous this is, Elmo thought, and that’s good–that means less questions to me.
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“Where are we?”

Elmo found himself in a deserted metro station. The last thing he remembered was that he could’ve fallen asleep during the ride to the marshaling yard–and when he woke up, he found himself here. There’s nobody else in the station but him and Mindy, and for God’s sake, the girl was lying there incapacitated.

“Mindy? Are you alright? What happened?”

Elmo paused, he seemed to hear voices around him. The voices of a conversation, and they sounded so damn familiar.

…the WGA struck again, they’ve got a Vylar with them, there’s no way we would win…

…but they seemed to be holding back. I don’t know, it seemed like they’re letting us escape…

…there’s something behind all of this. There’s something behind the WG, it’s huge, it’s full of intrigues, and it’s not good…

Elmo recognized the conversation at once–everything he asked before he was unwillingly recruited by the Cyron Beta Squad, to investigate the anomalies in an attack against a World Government installation at St. Olga, somewhere near Arkantos. It happened that they’re stumbled upon something far greater than a mere anomaly. The owners of those voices were dead by now–Elmo and Josh McKinnon were sole survivors of the doomed Cyron Beta Squad, caught by surprise by the level of unpredicted hazard in that mission they failed to contain.

“O’Connor? Willits?” he asked. “Doherty?”

The voices faded as quickly as they came, giving Elmo the chills of being alone in that dead-empty metro. But he quickly noticed a figure right ahead, emerged right out of the darkness, walking toward him…

“McKinnon? Josh?”

Josh McKinnon walked toward him in a frightening steadiness. He pointed his finger to his eyes, smiling, while asking Elmo a question,

“Tell me, Elmo, am I what I look like? Are we? Is the world really what it seemed?”

“Josh, what are you talking about?” Elmo reached forward, trying to get Josh, but something within him kept holding him back. “It’s impossible. It’s just a dream. I know it.”

“Don’t wake yourself up, Elmo, don’t you want to know how it ends?” Josh grinned–a psychotic grin of a spree killer.

“You’re not Josh,” said Elmo. “All I’m seeing, all I’m hearing, they’re all nonsense.”

Josh stopped a couple of feet in front of Elmo. “You don’t want to believe the obvious–you’re afraid of it. But your mind is dying to know it, Elmo. You can’t lie to yourself no longer. When you’re failed to see everything else, what’s left is the truth. You know that.”

“What are you talking about?” Elmo shouted hysterically. “I’m not gonna listen to you, not anymore. This is bullshit. Mindy. Mindy! Wake me up!”

“It’s not what it seemed,” Josh continued, untroubled with Elmo’s struggle. “You and I, and the rest of the world… when they will finally see? The human race is at its critical point, when we were faced to two options: to change to something more, which is uncertain, or to return to the likes our ancestors, living side by side with nature, although it means we’ll be losing every trace of civilization we’ve achieved so far.”

Elmo didn’t listen, he kept struggling to wake up.

“And here comes the World Government, stepped into the trouble, offering a solution. Though it’s more than what the ordinary humans think. The World Government is preparing us for a Mass Ascension.”

“Elmo!”

Mindy’s voice caused Elmo to jump forward out of his sleep, almost bumping with the front window.

“How could you sleep in times like this?” asked her furiously. “I’ve been driving with all the pressure you’re giving me and you just sleep like that?”

“There’s no way I can avoid that one, okay?” Elmo wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Did I say something when I were asleep?” Elmo asked back evasively.

“No, you’re sleeping like a baby,” said Mindy. “This better be good, or else I’ll be regretting the day I met you. Oh, what the hell, I am already.”

Elmo winced, pitching his eyes to see clearly–the sunlight was stinging right into his eyes. “Where are we?”

“We’re almost there,” she said. “You better know which train going to where else we’d end up in Nevada or something.”

“I’ve got to tunnel the timetable database first,” said Elmo, withdrawing a handheld device with a display on it.

“Well, judging the way how you say it, it sounds easy to you.” Mindy took a glance at the device.

“It is, thanks to Connor.” Elmo waved the device. “He made the programs in this device. It even compromised the World Government’s cyber-security link and anti-tracking firewall.”

“That’s impressive,” said Mindy, and she meant it. It took more than the cross of an egghead and a nutcase to compromise the WG network systems. “Is he a friend of yours?”

Elmo curled his lips in a humorous way. “Well, used to,” he said. “Now he’s swimming in the stomach of some worms. I met him in a covert top-level operation that turned up to be much bigger than that. We sent a dozen of America’s second best agents, the Cyron Beta Squad, only two of us managed to escape.”

“Seemed that you were in so much trouble,” said Mindy.

“You have no idea,” said Elmo, as they drove near a cargo station and Mindy started to slow down. “I think we’re here. Just slow down… I need to find someplace to hide this fucking car.”
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Gimme feedback.

Elmo Lawrence’s Journal: The Invention of the Gatling Plasma

DISCLAIMER: The World Government, the United Resistance, the Lobotol Army, the SFOXAS, the United States Reformed, the plasma gun, the Vylar, and the Cyron movement, are subject of author’s creativity. Note that none of such had existed in the real world at the time this note was made.
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“Caramba!”

Alejandro Martinez took out his plasma gun, but it’s too late. Elmo Lawrence had shot him on the head.

Disgusted on the scene, Mindy Amberton got out of her hiding spot and yelled, “Is it necessary to leave such a mess?”

Elmo wiped the blood, brain juice, and skull pieces of what’s left of Alejandro Martinez’ head with the tip of his boots, picking up the plasma gun. “Don’t have a choice,” he said, taking a grimy mop out of his windcheater inner pocket and wiped the bloodstains from the gun, “else he’d got me first, and that’s worse mess for you to handle.”

Mindy watched on how Elmo put the plasma gun into his backpack, and how the 80-liter backpack was laden with similar objects.

“What do you have in mind, piling plasma guns on your back?” she said, peeking into the backpack. “You can only fire one each time, and you barely used them.” She glanced to the .45 heavy duty pistol in Elmo’s tight grip.

Elmo holstered his pistol and took one gun out of his backpack, holding it on the mid-air with two arms for Mindy’s convenience.

“Plasma guns are the most powerful weapon known to man,” said Elmo, admiring the sight of the gun he’s holding, “and though there were many series of them, the Lobotol models were always the best–see, the one I’m showing you.” He wiggled the gun. “The reason I’m piling them because, after yesterday’s Lobotol invasion, I’ve got this idea that the potential of these babies could be greatly amplified, making this Elmo Gun–I named this schematic weapon that–the most efficient weapon EVER.”

Mindy took a look at the Lobotol Model Elmo’s holding. It’s a weapon used by the Lobotol Army, a separate rank in the World Government Army which focused on fighting the United Resistance and reclaim their declared nations. Mindy had seen similar weapons used by the Lobotol troopers at the news on TV–she couldn’t believe that the gun was present on her very eyes.

After the United States Reformed Government joined the United Resistance and declared war on the established World Government, the USR Army along with the United Resistance–following a series of massive defeats with numerous casualties–finally fought off the World Government Army in the battle of Portsmouth on July 2063. Aware that the sounding of the defeat of their proclaimed invulnerable army in a decisive battle that could be the turning point of this World War IV would rally the United Resistance and other freedom fighters in the world, the World Government leaders in Jerusalem decided to adapt extreme measures to fight the United Resistance and its most stubborn participant–and thus the Lobotol Army was formed. The Lobotol Army is more capable of destuction than even the feared World Government special force SFOXAS, and after three major invasions in Boston, Philadelphia, and the D.C., the USR Government was at the brink of abolition.

Of course, if what Elmo had said was true, the United Resistance–humanity–would have a chance to ward off the World Government tyranny.

“What’s your plan?” Mindy asked, while Elmo put the Lobotol Model back to his backpack. “You’re trying to establish a plasma army against the Lobotol?”

Elmo shook his head. Mindy helped Elmo strapping the backpack shut.

“Selling them to the USR Army?”

“Nope,” Elmo fastened his backpack. “I saw the battle, you know. I saw how a small squad they called the Alpha Omega Squad erased a fleet of seven battleships, fifteen destroyers, eleven frigates, and two carriers in the last Battle of Boston. I saw how huge caliber plasma cannons, mounted on combat-efficient Vylars (a Vylar is a superscalar bipedal armored vehicle with the capability of manlike movement, usually operated by a strike team of four or five), tearing apart the deck of USS Oklahoma and sank her in seconds. Even with plasma weapons distributed like daily ransom packs in the USR Army ranks, we could not match the firepower of a Lobotol squad.”

“The gun I showed you,” he continued, “is extremely rare. The reason why a Lobotol organic weapon came into possession of a USR citizen is, this weapon is stolen by a Cyron infiltrator team–and the issue is fresh, less than three days ago.”

“I’ll bring this to the Cyrolab in Arkantos to be examined,” he said, “and all of this plasma guns are my objects of convenience.”

The words ‘objects of convenience’ intrigues Mindy in a way she didn’t like. “What do you mean, objects of convenience?”

Elmo crouched next to Martinez’ body, searching for every valuables he could find. “They’re components for my Elmo Gun,” he said, while counting on the money in Martinez’ wallet. “You know, the concept is, I try to make a plasma gun capable of rapid fire. I don’t know how the World Government made it possible for a plasma gun to fire continuously, but the concept of a plasma gun is to reduce the projectile to plasma using fusion power, while the particle accelerators produce kinetic energy for the plasma to travel forward just like a ray of light. The difference between laser and plasma is that laser consists of a ray of electromagnetic wave, mostly the gamma rays, while plasma consists of a gel of alpha and beta particles reduced from greater particles through means of fusion reaction.”

Mindy rolled her eyes. “What I learn in college is that laser has relativistic momentum, while plasma has kinetic momentum.”

“Well, let’s say it’s extremely hard to produce plasma continuously,” said Elmo, checking on a safe combination in the inner pocket of Martinez’ trench coat, “since it will cause the gun to superheat and melt the owner. Plasma could only be produced in discreet successions, thus causes every plasma gun we have to fire like an old flintlock rifle back to the 18th century.”

“But the Lobotol issue fires continuously,” said Mindy.

“To hell with that, perhaps those eggheads in Cyrolab could find out once they obtain one,” Elmo put off Martinez’ gold Rolex, gold-buckled crocodile skin Aigner, and Prada suede shoes. “Richard M. Gatling invented what becomes the modern ballistic minigun in 1861. My idea is to invent several separate plasma reaction chambers mounted around a revolving cylinder, which revolves in a rate of two separate fires of a single reaction chamber. Short, you can call it the Gatling Plasma.”

“Oh, such a practical idea,” Mindy commented cynically. “I thought you’d rig the fusion reaction so that you could fire an issue continuously. I’ve started to think that you’re clever as well as practical.”

“Well, you could come with me to Cyrolab, I’m sure you’re in for a job there,” said Elmo, getting back on his feet after he could find nothing else valuable from Martinez’ body. He withdrew a syringe in a sealed packaging, ripped it open, and fill it with Martinez’ blood.

“What are you doing?” questioned Mindy, while Elmo injected the blood into a small canister.

“Taking DNA samples,” said Elmo, withdrawing a plasma pistol from his gun flap and aimed at Martinez’ body, “and annihilate the rest. If you don’t like the scene, don’t look.”

Mindy got a bad feeling about this–she looked away just in time Elmo shot Martinez’ body with his plasma pistol, reducing him along with the floor materials including the concrete foundation to gel-like substance of God-knows-what in a superheated plasma explosion. A foul-smelled steam emerged shortly after, causing Elmo to sneeze.

“Ah-CHOO!” Elmo snorted, wiping away the steam with his free hand. “I always hate close-ranged plasma fire,” he said.

Mindy was outrageous by Elmo’s actions. “Are all of this really necessary!?” she shouted furiously. “And who the hell is this man, do you really have to kill him?!”

“I’ve got to ensure that on this world, the only source of Martinez’ DNA is here in my pocket,” argued Elmo. “And yes, I’ve got to kill him, I told you. Well, if you don’t know Alejandro Martinez, you better keep it that way–believe me, you don’t really want to know.”

Elmo walked out of the flat room, but Mindy grasped his arm.

“You killed that man, you looted his corpse, and you destroyed it–yes, I do really want to know.”

Elmo sighed. “He’s Alejandro Martinez,” said Elmo, “a smuggler. He smuggled plasma guns into the USR, you know.”

“And?”

“Well, I’m on my way back to Arkantos. Listen, girl, if you seek sanctuary, you should come with me to Cyrolab. It’s the only safe place on Earth after what you’ve witnessed.”

Mindy raised her brows–she didn’t seem too concerned with Elmo’s last sentence. “What could come to me, after all?”

Elmo shook his arm off Mindy’s grasp, and continued walking out. “It’s only a matter of time World Government agents arrived here. This place–and me–are being watched. And once they notice that you’re with me in this scene, they’ll be right after you.”

He enjoyed the sight of Mindy’s face became pale, although just through the corner of his eyes. “I’m coming with you,” Mindy said quickly, totally unnerved.

“Good,” said Elmo. He took Mindy by the hand and climbed the metal staircases right outside the tenement building down to the alleys. Mindy could see a black topless muscle car parked on the street right ahead. “It’s Martinez’ car, I’ve got the key,” Elmo continued. “But we’re taking a train ride to Arkantos, I can’t risk being noticed. Besides, driving to Arkantos would be extremely dangerous by now–especially on the borders. By train, I could work a way so that we could slip away unnoticed.”

“The faster, the better,” said Mindy. “I hate being in this city for longer.”

“Especially in the World Government territory,” Elmo unlocked the car. He opened the baggage cabin and put his backpack in before shutting it.

He then threw the keys to Mindy, who caught it with confusion. “You drive.”

Mindy stood still next to the car, the keys hanging on her hand, while Elmo entered through the front right door. “Why me?” she complained.

“You can drive without arousing suspicions.” Elmo took a pair of aviator shades out of his windcheater pocket, and searched the car to find a hat, which he put on at once. He then took off his windcheater jacket, took the plasma pistol out of the gun flap, then threw the jacket under the seat. “To the nearest train station, wherever it is,” he ordered. “You live here, you know Minneapolis more than I do.”

As the American United Resistance established the United States Reformed Government in July 4, 2062, what used to be the United States was now torn in two: The United States Reformed and the World Government jurisdiction–not all of America had become a part of the new States, in fact, the USR only claimed response of states mostly in the Eastern America. Minneapolis was always under the World Government control ever since the beginning of World War III, when the World Government declared its establishment in 2052 and used its superior mililtary force with technology alien to the world at that time to wipe out every claims of jurisdiction of all existing nations in the world, including the United States.

The US, due to its position as a superpower nation, last the longest–it took seven years for the World Government to control the entire US territory (The second is Russia, due to its sheer vastness of territory, and the third is China, the world’s newest superpower), thus putting the entire world under its control–where the World Government claimed as the end of the World War III. But freedom fighters all over the world could not be wiped out–the World Government stood on a forced stability through military presence. Although most of the freedom fighters fought separately before February 2060, a movement called Cyron, with supposed connections to the abolished United Nations and the remaining NATO forces, united the Western, Eastern, Middle-Eastern-African, and the Pacific resistance movements under the United Resistance on February 2060, which united the freedom fighters all over the world under one systematic movement. This United Resistance gave every existing nation before the World War III the right to reclaim their independence from the World Government–and so far, 63 nations from all over the world had followed. India was the first, then second came the Chungkuo Renmin of China, the European Union, Korea-Japan union, the Arab League, the Federal States of Appalachia, Federation of Canada, and the United States Reformed.

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Whoa, whoa, I got it going. This is all for now, I’ve got a class. See ya, and leave comments if you like it!

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It’s a copy-paste of my same-titled note in my Facebook account.

The Halifax Bloody Snow Catastrophe II

Everything was just meant to be. All of the results had impact and power upon one another. Everyone were born to be somebody–even though it means that most were born to be passer-by.

I am Nicolette Wynter, and I believe that I was born to make something happen.

It was pitch-black, the way ahead, and it just seemed to be that way forever.

Why can’t I see anything? I thought I’ve seen…

Nicolette started to recall what had just happened. She remembered seeing pieces of broken glass shattering on the road drenched in the pouring rain. Glances of tree silhouettes were visible in the background, along with the dark, cloudy sky. It must be somewhere in the midnight. And in front of her… what was that, the steering wheel? A car’s dashboard?

And an arm still holding onto it. An arm full of pieces of broken glass. An arm soaked in blood and rainwater.

The car’s interior… it was totally devastated. And there were blood everywhere.

It was the scene of a terrible car accident. But who was there? Sure it wouldn’t be her.

‘Nickie!’

Who’s the one screaming? Who’s the one crying at her side, holding the same arm on the steering wheel? What is it, a hospital room? A morgue? Why were there so many people around? Was it a funeral? For whom it was held? Was it for her?

Geez, I think I had the strangest dream–two strangest dreams in one night.

All the thoughts seemed to be swirling inside her head again, before drifting away one by one. Trying to keep the memories in her head was just like trying to hold some water in her fist–the harder you try, the faster they were to go.

It was getting tiresome–if by trying harder to remember I am more likely to forget, then why don’t I just let it go?

And she relaxed. At first she thought all of the memories would drift away as they had been, but into her deepest subconsciousness, they were coming back, one by one, like a slideshow of events at the time she really didn’t expect it.

It was total darkness, at first. But then, she recalled one by one–the memories together were making a chronology.

It is already late… I’m driving in my car at 70 mph, trying the best I can to arrive at home as soon as possible. Can’t help to go faster, it was pouring cats and dogs and the view distance is merely several feet at most, even with the fog lights on.

Flashes of lightning, high tension lines and silhouettes of trees in the background. The road is drenched with rainwater, and at some points the tires slipped. It was dangerous, and I’m not used to drive that fast. But still, what’s holding me on to come home that late?

There was a sharp U-turn ahead, I’ve got to slow down… the road is way too slippery to turn at a higher speed. But hang on… what is there on the road ahead?

Suddenly it was clear: there was a girl standing in the darkness, on the road ahead. She didn’t bother standing under the pouring rain… why, she was merely staring strangely at me. God, I’m going to run into her!

I swerve the car to avoid hitting her, and gets off the road… I can see the glances of the girl, still looking at me. It’s odd, she’s smiling… I think she is saying something…

And then, it’s darkness.

So, it was a car accident? I had an accident? And the views I saw before… was all about me?

Strange, who was that girl? Nicolette didn’t think she’d ever seen her in my life before. But was that odd to remember that, the last thing that she thought before she lost her consciousness was…

Is the girl okay? Oh, she’s still standing there, smiling… she’s okay. I’m glad that she’s not hurt because of me…

‘Nickie!’

‘Mom?’

‘Oh my God, she responds! Don’t you hear that? She finally gives a response!’

Nicolette slowly opened her eyes. She found herself lying on a bed in a hospital room, with a bunch of bouquet on the end table at her side. Her mother was sitting at the other side, reaching out to hug her. Nicolette could feel the warmth of her mother’s tears when they met her cheek.

‘You had a terrible accident, Nickie,’ sobbed her mother, still holding her tight, ‘but you survived! It had been seven hours before someone found you, and you barely made it here alive, but you did survive! And even though the doctors kept saying things like “we’re trying the best we can” or “let’s hope for the best, Mrs. Wynter” with an expression of “there’s no way we could do this, this girl won’t going to survive” still you survived! You know, everyone would’ve died in such a terrible accident, but you didn’t, and the warmth I felt when I held your hand as you were brought here ensured that you’ll live it up ’til the end… I should’ve known, Nickie, I should’ve known…’

Nickie smiled weakly, looking around. There was Clara, her older sister, smiling at her. Her eyes were still wet, Nickie knew that she had been crying almost all night long.

‘That’s okay, little sis,’ Clara said, ‘there’s supposed to be a surgery scheduled today for you, but the doctors decided that it was no longer necessary. You had overcome the urgency of the surgery by yourself–that’s amazing. You healed so quickly that the doctors agreed that you can go tomorrow morning.’

‘That was miraculous,’ said Nicolette’s mother. ‘The whole thing was just like a dream… it happened so fast, but it got over even faster. Thanks God, I thought you would’ve died in the accident.’

Nicolette herself was amazed with the fact that she healed up that quickly. As her mother released her and stepped back to give her room, she examined her body all over, and was surprised. Looked like all of the wounds were healed, and… how odd, there’s not even a single scar left. It’s just like she never had an accident.

‘See?’ asked Clara. ‘Even the doctors said it was a miracle that you recovered so quickly.’

Suddenly a doctor and a nurse entered the room. ‘Mrs Wynter?’ asked the doctor. ‘If you don’t mind, I have something to say to you.’

‘Doc,’ said Mrs Wynter blissfully, ‘my daughter–finally, she’s awake!’

Nickie smiled weakly to the doctor, which he returned briefly.

‘It’s so surprisingly early,’ said the doctor. ‘Of course, we’ll examine her further. But before, I have something really important to say to you, first.’

He reached out and whispered something to Nicolette’s mother. Nicolette didn’t like it, whatever it was that he told her, her expression had become stern.

‘Alright, I’ll be coming with you,’ said Mrs Wynter. ‘Clara, please take care of Nickie while I’m away. Don’t worry, I’m only out for a moment.’

The three of them left the room. Both Nicolette and Clara looked at them as they left; it’s clearly seen that Clara felt the same way as Nicolette did.

‘I don’t like whatever it was that he said to Mom,’ said Clara. ‘I never seen Mom that stern before.’

She sighed, and looked outside the window. It was pouring again, just like the night of the accident. Suddenly the entire atmosphere of the accident caught Nicolette back to the past.

‘I’ve been wondering,’ said Clara ever so slowly, very careful of her selection of words, ‘what was it that caused the accident? You always very careful in driving and doing other things. What was it that failed your sense? Coz they said that there’s no sign of some other cars around at the time the accident occurred.’

There was a girl standing in the darkness, on the road ahead. She didn’t bother standing under the pouring rain… why, she was merely staring strangely at me.

The image of the girl standing on the road right ahead of her flashed back into her mind. It was so real that she could hear the howling wind and feel the coldness of the air.

I can see the glances of the girl, still looking at me. It’s odd, she’s smiling… I think she is saying something…

Suddenly Nicolette realized that she had seen the girl somewhere in her life before. It was exactly the same with the girl she saw as her reflection in that glade in Nova Scotia–she just remembered that she once had that dream. The girl was Camille Bertrand, and she was saying something…

I was told about you too, Nicolette, that you’ll help me secure the knowledge in my head. Live and be alive, my friend, and please do survive–you’ll never have the faintest idea of what danger you’re pacing on. If only we have the chance to meet…

It was what Camille thought when their thoughts overrode in that dream… but that’s not what she said when the accident happened.

‘Fear not, Nicolette, for the time has come where the past is history and the present is a lie. What matters now is just what lies ahead.’

It was what she’s saying, now Nicolette remembered.

‘Everything’s gonna be okay. You have the truth… it’s not lost forever, it’s safe in your head. Still, it isn’t safe until it is kept in everyone’s head… so please, Nicolette, once the time comes, let everyone know. Don’t give up the fight that we had started…’

Odd to know that the accident happened in mere seconds–the girl had a lot of things to say. But of course, that was a situation which surpassed even place and time…

And she was smiling now at this point, a sad smile of someone who had to leave, when she finally said:

‘It’s nice to finally see you in person, Nicolette. I can see that you’ll be a great woman someday… let the day come. Live, until the time comes!’

And all that Nicolette could see was darkness.

‘Nickie?’ Her sister looked at her, worried.

‘It’s OK, Nickie, you don’t have to answer… I’m sorry if that brings the trauma back to you.’

But, to Clara’s surprise, Nicolette smiled. Even though she still didn’t know the truth that Camille talked about, she knew that it was very important and, from now on, something really big would happen. Something great that would change the world once and for all, and it had something to do with the truth in her head, that nobody knows. This made her heart swell.

‘Thanks, Clara!’ She smiled, and giggled at the confused Clara.

But knowing that the truth in her head was something everyone would die fighting for, she knew that bad things would happen too, in the future. Very bad things, so bad she could never imagine. Like what happened to Camille.

Hang on, thought Nickie. What really happened to Camille?

The Halifax Bloody Snow Catastrophe I

It was so dark. Nicolette could hear herself panting; it’s like she’s been running around quite a lot. She’s so scared she’s hiding under something that she thought would cover her, and so unstable that she had to hold on to it.

But wait, she looked at the hands reaching out. She knew she was the one commanding those hands to move, but the strangest thing was, they’re not her hands.

Shivering, she looked down to herself. It was not her body. So whose body was this? And why she was in this body?

It was dark, and she’s getting more and more terrified. A strange feeling emerged beyond her utmost fear, though, a feeling of sudden calm and serenity. A feeling of someone who was about to die, and was prepared of it.

But the fear was still there; not the fear of death, however, it’s the fear of something very critical that would be gone if she died–the fear that something worth dying to defend would be lost when she died.

The only knowledge of its whereabouts left in the world was in her head. If she died, the knowledge would be lost forever. The world would caught the worst of it when they were most unprepared. And this would be catastrophic.

The horizon, gradually ever so slowly, turned to bloody scarlet. The new day dawned. The surroundings had become slightly visible, the outlines of tall redwood trees formed in the sky around Nicolette. She was sitting near a glade at the clearing in the woods. Far away, she could see the shadows of buildings of a city–clearly a devastated city.

She took a look at her hand–the hand. It was wet in blood. It had been a catastrophe already, she thought. She couldn’t let an even greater catastrophe to hit the entire world.

Something that she couldn’t understand was, who were those after her? What did they gain from spreading these catastrophes around the world? What were they after? She knew that they’re after her, the only witness left after the whole city had been cleared up–but what were all of this for?

And the reason beyond all of this? She recalled something about a bay or something, a bay which had been lost in Siberia… nobody would bother to think about it, it was located in the most remote area of Siberia–nobody would normally bother to think about a bay in remote Siberian Russia, even though somebody accidentally found it here in Canada.

Lost and found, she thought, trying to be comical even in the edge of her life. Finders keepers, wasn’t her? And those guys who were after her were the losers who didn’t want to weep about it.

Bet there’s something in that bay… something valuable. A rich deposit of platinum, perhaps? She didn’t believe that in this post-atomic era people would fight over some natural energy resources anymore.

Lines of gold was threading in the horizon, beyond the purple-violet sky decorated with glowing golden clouds. It was so strikingly beautiful, but it also served as a reminder–her time has almost come.

But she wouldn’t care, would she? Here in the woods of Nova Scotia, with such a beautiful scenery painted on the sky, and the natural beauty of the woods itself, a girl rested in peace. She could hear heaven calling out–her mother, her father, her little sister, the kind old man next door, his grandson, the paperman–she knew that they’re all going to heaven. She was prepared to die, for somehow, something in her heart told her that God would take care of this unfinished business…

The knowledge will be passed, she thought. Perhaps there’s some other survivors out there that’ll live long enough to tell the world about what lies ahead.

As for me, she thought, I am Camille Bertrand, once lived in Halifax, Nova Scotia, a place that no one will find in the map years after this. I was told about you too, Nicolette, that you’ll help me secure the knowledge in my head. Live and be alive, my friend, and please do survive–you’ll never have the faintest idea of what danger you’re pacing on. If only we have the chance to meet…

The sun could now be seen rising, and Nicolette saw, for the first and the last time, her reflection in the glade–the smiling face of Camille Bertrand, a girl barely of her age, so young and hopeful full of energy, but with a wisdom of someone prepared to die this young; a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at her, as if saying, our fight will not end here…

…and that her body was all covered in blood.

Then everything was pitch-black once again.

One Hell of A Night

Before this happened, the girl’s life was as normal as ever. So did the world, yet anything which happened to the girl did not directly affect the world in general, or alter its fate; however, the girl’s story would make history–or the future, in my case–more interesting.

It was pouring that night, and one could barely see a thing. The cold atmosphere could sting into one’s bone marrow, not to mention the raging thunder which deafened anyone’s ears. Rainwater drenched the road’s surface, making it slippery as hell at a sharp U-turn on a downhill slope.

In situations like that, an accident was most possible.

Nicolette Wynter was driving high-speed down the road, partially aware of the unfriendly weather while being afraid of coming late at home. Unfortunate to her, the short view distance caused her reflex to fail as she noticed a sharp downhill U-turn right ahead. When she finally turned her car, it was too late: a loud CRASH was heard, followed by shattering glass as it crashed upon the side wall. The rain was so heavy that few people noticed the accident: Nicolette lay helpless among the broken body of the car and the shattered glass, drenched in rainwater and her own blood for one hour before she finally found and sent to the hospital, to receive effective medical treatment.

Her mother Jocelyn, a single parent, was so surprised as she heard about the accident: by the time she arrived at the ICU room, Nicolette was already in a state of coma. Jocelyn’s heart sunk as she witnessed her daughter raving subconsciously on the ICU bed, and feared the worst as Nicolette was sent away to receive emergency treatment. However, Nickie survived the critical moments, and she gradually recovered during next days’ hospital stay.

At these times, Nicolette began seeing things in her dream.

She saw herself as a different girl–or woman, she didn’t know–living in an unknown place, probably up North, for she could remember nothing but redwood trees and frequent snowfall. She even confessed that during her critical moments, she remembered having a dream about how she’s supposed to have died that night, but was spared to replace another person who weren’t supposed to die but died; an event which would happen in the future. She had no idea about all of this, but came into a conclusion that what happened to her had given her a supernatural telepathic bond with someone else, perhaps she who took her place.

After that, her life was never the same again.

And so, the Lighthouse of Mankind begins. Little did she know that the woman’s memory she shared through dreams contained something that she must not see, and she was killed because of witnessing such. Little did she know that what she experienced as the other woman would determine the fate of the world, as well as humanity, in the future…

Author:

The day of the accident was dated October 8, 2049. How was the world at that time will be told at the next post. I must admit that I have to change a lot of things in the story, due to conditions in my former post Change? but I don’t have to start all over again, for the main plot in the story is hardly changed. Hope you understand this and still enjoy the story.

Until next time.

Change?

I’m a man of subtleties, intrigue, and uncertainty, and so does my thoughts. It affects the progress of my work more or less, and now I decided to alter the plot of my story a bit. It’ll at least delay the progress a month or two, but it’ll give extra twists on the plot which makes it even more intriguing and alluring to read. I might be going too far and risk my lifetime opportunity into producing a novel suitable only for post-doctoral philosopher to digest, so that though my great name is hailed in university halls and libraries, the contents of my book will not be exposed to the public; those whose mind I’m intentionally trying to enlighten.

First, at the beginning of everything, let the prologue be the life of Nicolette Wynter, how she’s been dreaming of being another person, literally. The prologue will include the news of anomalies which began to occur throughout Harris.

Then, I shall expose the readers to Nicolette’s history class, delivering them a detailed description of the world at that time; the cultural and technological background of this whole story.

And, as we know, there’s a supernatural connection between Nicolette and a witness of great evil described later in the book, concealed by all means by many governments of the world. Such evil action was so sensitive that the means of covering it involved the complete erasure of all evidences–including the witness mentioned.

Like the former version of the story, the connection was made through means of subconscious realm–dreams, in this case. That the witness and Nicolette shared memories through Nicolette’s dreams, so that the keychain of evidences won’t be lost even though all witnesses has been cleared.

The difference is, the connection didn’t come constantly in a lifetime, but happened by chance, triggered by an accident where Nicolette got hit on her head. The witness herself, however, did not know about the connection, and thought that all had lost when she, along with hundreds of thousand citizens of Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, perished in a horrible catastrophe known to the world as the ‘Halifax Bloody Snow’. The connection was terminated ever since, but left questions to Nicolette’s curious mind, as well as a preserved keychain of investigation to unveil the most horrible secret of human civilization.

There are still lots of things to be done, but I’ll take care of it soon.

Statistics

When one or two casualties fell as a result of wrong system in this free world, it’ll be considered a tragedy. But if the casualties went in great numbers of more than two digits, it’ll only be mentioned as statistics.

An all-out search conducted by the States police rescued 985 missing injured casualties of the Cleansing tragedy–those found alive by miracle, they said–and recovered 55,764 bodies. 31,794 of them were still missing–including the Heretics all over the United States, which had became the most wanted criminals. Unfortunately not even one of them were caught–or at least spotted–anywhere in the States. They were like vanishing in the trails of dawn after the Cleansing were carried out.

Some of the living casualties and witnesses confessed that they saw the suspected cult leaders which rallied the Heretics, but due to the chaos during the Cleansing, none of them were able to identify any of them. The tragedy itself left a deep trauma upon all American population, as well as the world. So deep, that not any of the witnesses dared to testament the details of the Cleansing and its systematic chronology.

Neither did the Appleton students which were at Harriet Green Lawn during the Cleansing.

An Earlier Catastrophe (III)

Charles Montgomery, he was killed by the Heretics as the first blood spilled in the year, in a ritual marking the beginning of the Cleansing.

Mark Jernigan, he succumbed into the will of the Heretics. He became one of them, had faith on their grim ideology, and thus, joined them to bring out the Cleansing. Although so, his motives were solely by fear of demise as like his friend Montgomery, and in that condition, were tolerable.

Frank Sicily, he’s still with the Jocks. If the Heretics were about to get him, they’re about to face the whole Jocks. And it means that, the Heretics were about to slaughter the entire Appleton Annihilator squad.

The Heretics were on the move. Using identical black vans, they swarmed the city streets, heading to their destination: Frank Sicily. And that means bloodbath.

The mysterious cult leader, he disappeared among the shadows of the moving Heretics. His motives were still unknown, but his work was catastrophic.

And there left the witnesses: Fedca Lawrence and his fellow Commoners, silently returned to follow the Heretics; whilest Jane Maxwell and the girls stayed at their place, waiting for them to begone completely while gathering courage to approach the pentagram at the center of the amphitheater.

As they did so, Nicolette took a clear view of the phallic figure. No, it wasn’t meant to be phallic at all. It’s a figure of a pharos, or ancient lighthouse, and at the place of the beacon, there was an eye: an ever-seeing eye of the Dei–whatever they called it.

A hint: it’s the Lighthouse of Mankind. And Nicolette had no idea of what it was until the  manifestation of the Lighthouse itself, January 17, 2050.

As the dawn breaks, the world were shocked by the greatest massacre ever to occur in the United States, and the highest death toll in the US history.

The Heretics’ Cleansing were carried out in almost all high schools all over the United States, resulting in the death of 25,382 high school students–all of which were typically high school jock–and 88,543 missing. Among the numbers missing were the Heretics, the suspects of this horrible crime, all with ingeniously identical identity: black robes, bald heads, satanic tattoos, and background as the bullied and intimidated ones in high school. Many experts tried to link this with cases of mentally unstable high school students committing brutal vengeances against their oppressors at school, while this rendered the police all over the States working way past their work time, to conduct a completely failed investigation.

America would never be the same since that day. And neither would the world.