BackTrek (30 page)

They had been friends for so long. So long
that neither of them even remembered when they met. Independently
they had grown to love one another but had been afraid to share how
they felt. Their friendship had been more important than anything
else. Gabrielle had often dreamed of Jericho’s touch, just as he
had dreamed of her kiss. Their hearts raced as they held one
another. They both knew that their relationship had just forever
changed. Though they could have no idea what the future may hold
for them, they knew individually and together, that from this day
forward, they would never be alone. Not really alone. They would
always have one another.

The sun still climbed into the sky as they
reluctantly pulled away from their embrace. Jericho led her, hand
in hand, to the path that had delivered them to the beach. As they
walked through the narrow boulder lined path, they were both
silent. She wanted to say things, all kinds of things, about how
she felt. How he made her feel. About what had happened. But she
kept quiet, as she savored the moment, and basked in their newfound
warmth. Jericho was equally in a cross between turmoil and elation,
but he too walked in silence. As they followed the path that was
mostly rocks and a bit of sand, Jericho led the way for her once
again as he had done when they had come. Soon they came to the
rusted steel wall that separated this bit of paradise from their
world. Tall corrugated steel panels, rough with the burnt orange of
oxidation, separated by stone pillars, ran to their left and right.
They had reached the road. Jericho reached down and pulled the
bottom corner of one of the panels back and peeked through.

“The road is already full.” Jericho said as
he watched as the people walked by them. Though from this
viewpoint, his view was all of grey cloth covered legs and grey
canvas shoes. Everyone else being dressed the same as the two of
them. Everyone walked at a fast pace and moved in the same
direction.

“How will we get out there? Without them
knowing where we were?” She asked, as she squatted beside him.

“They don’t care, they won’t even notice.
Look, I’ll hold this back and you go first. I’ll count to ten and
then follow you.” He said. He pried back on the rusted panel to
give her more room to get through.

“I don’t want to leave you.” She said, as she
looked into his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll catch up to you in just a
minute or so. Just watch out that you don’t get scratched.” She saw
a break in the traffic, where she could get through without being
stepped on. She started to go, and then hesitated. “Go!” He said,
and gave her a gentle push with his own grey colored canvas
shoe.

Gabrielle came through the wall, stumbled
slightly and then became one with the sea of bodies as they marched
on the road. She had joined the hundreds and hundreds of others, as
they all walked in the same direction. She counted to ten to
herself and then glanced back, but Jericho wasn’t to be seen. She
could no longer see the opening she had come through. She tried to
step to the side of the road, but the traffic had her caught up in
its flow and carried her away from where she had left Jericho. She
hoped that Jericho would catch up with her soon.

Jericho continued to squat and peek through
the panel opening, to look for a break in the throng of people that
passed, but had to wait well past his original count of ten.
Finally he saw an opening, shoved through the hole and was able to
enter the roadway. Just ask he straightened his back and matched
the crowd’s speed, he almost fell as he was pushed from behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” He said as he caught his
balance and picked up his speed to walk with the rest.

“Why did you jump in front of me? Can’t you
see I’m walking here, you idiot!” The young man never slowed his
pace, but pushed Jericho again. Anger still showed on his face, and
fire in his eyes.

“Stop it, Donovan! Just because you’re bigger
than me doesn’t mean you own me.” Jericho replied.

“That’s right I’m bigger than you, and don’t
you forget it!” Donovan spat back.

“Yeah! Bigger, taller, and dumber!” Jericho
shot back, and ducked just as Donovan swung at him. “And slow! See
yah!” Jericho said as he picked up his pace and began to weave his
way through the crowd, as he tried to catch up with Gabrielle and
get away from Donovan. Donovan tried to follow him, and butted in
front of an older hard looking man.

“Back off, you damn idiot!” The older man
said, as he slapped Donovan across the face, and raised his hand to
hit him again. Stunned and scared, Donovan fell back into the pace,
with his mouth shut.

“Collin, why did you do that?” An older woman
next him said. “He’s just a kid!”

“The bastard almost tripped me! On the road
as busy as this, that’s almost as sure as the plague to get you
killed. The shit head deserved it!” Collin fired back at the older
woman.

“If you wasn’t my husband I’d disown you, you
old scoundrel!” She replied.

“Shut up, and walk, woman! We’re to damn old
to argue and walk!”

“Humph.” She replied. And they continued in
silence.

Donovan had listened quietly to their
exchange, and just kept pace with the crowd. He no longer wished to
follow Jericho. He had no need to. They would all wind up in the
same place soon. Everybody was going to the same place. This was
the morning shift. And on the morning shift, every morning,
everyone went to the factory.

“Gabrielle!” Jericho yelled as he approached
the end of the road. Ahead of him, people poured through small
lanes, divided by waist high gleaming metallic posts, each ending
with a domed shaped top. He was still a good ten people behind her,
but he wanted her to know that he had made it.

“Jericho! What took you so long?” She called
back as she passed her hand into the opening at the edge of the
dome on top of the post just to her right, and she continued to
briskly walk past. The light on top of the dome continued to glow
green. Above the roadway, the Guardians watched quietly from the
raised catwalk across the road, as they ensured that each person
placed their hand into the dome as they passed, and alertly
continued to watch for any change to the steady green lights on
each of the domes. The Guardians were not dressed as everyone else
on the road, in the drab grey shirts, pants and shoes. They were in
fact not dressed at all. Their gleaming metallic bodies, humanoid
in every way, were a smooth dark grey metal, from head to foot,
with occasional edges of smooth shiny metal which outlined the
various sections of their bodies where they had been assembled.
Faces, shiny with the same brightness, yet devoid of expression,
molded at their creation with a fixed disinterested expression. And
black soulless eyes, which glimmered only with the light from their
surroundings. The Guardians constantly scanned the moving crowd,
and though they each had a mouth-like slit, it never opened. It had
no need to. They did not need to eat, nor talk really, as all sound
that they emitted came through a grated opening in their chest.
Each held a long rod in one hand. Steel. With a metal tip that
gleamed in the light.

“Where were you?” Gabrielle asked again.

“Donovan!” He answered.

“Oh. I get it.” She said, as she smiled
slightly.

“Jericho!” Donovan yelled from further back
down the road as he too moved towards the entry lines. “This ain’t
over, Jericho! You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” Jericho said to
himself. Then he yelled to Gabrielle. “I’ll see you at mid-day
meal!”

“Okay, see you then!” She replied as she
hurried off into the factory, and to her assigned station.

Jericho approached the dome and inserted his
hand into the plasma beam as he had done a thousand times before,
and again it seemed to tickle. Sometimes he wondered exactly what
the beam was made out of, but mostly he just thought it was a
pretty blue color, a color that he had always associated with the
scanner. Everyone that entered the factory had to pass the scanner.
Once, years ago, a man had refused to put his hand in the scanner,
and since disobedience was forbidden, a Guardian had reached down
from the catwalk and touched him with the gleaming end of his
control stick. The touch had knocked him unconscious, even before
the Guardian could jump down from above. The Guardian had then
dragged him over to the scanner, and put his hand in for him. Days
later, Jericho had seen the man as he received lashes in the
square. Such was his punishment for having disobeyed. The primary
rule was to obey. Obey instructions, obey directions, obey any and
all communication from the Guardians. That was the rule, and it was
simple. Obey. It was also required by rule, that any violation, any
disobedience must be punished, and all such punishment must be
public for all to see.

He would never forget the man’s face, tear
streaked, blood splattered, in agonized pain, but absolutely silent
as each lash of the whip wrapped around the already split and
bloody skin on his back. The Guardian that administered the
punishment had held the same expressionless look on its face as
each stroke sliced deeper. It went through the motions with
mechanical preciseness, and absolute lack of emotion. Jericho could
see the broken and battered body of the poor man tied to the
whipping post, clearly reflected in the Guardian’s unblinking eyes.
But then as he had turned his glance, it was the man’s eyes that he
would never forget. Beaten, bloody, as stroke after stroke from the
unstoppable whip continued to land, the man’s eyes had been quite
clear and sharp. For a moment, just a slight fraction of a second,
they had locked with Jericho’s. It was quite clear that he would
never be disobedient again.

Jericho knew that the purpose of the scanner
was to detect if someone had the plague, even though no symptoms
were evident. That was how the plague was controlled. He had heard
horror stories of how infected people had spread the plague
throughout the village, and in some cases, it had killed entire
families. He couldn’t imagine that anyone would not want to help or
that anyone would not agree to be scanned.

The Guardian watched as Jericho was scanned
and the light remained green. As Jericho continued forward, he
heard a commotion from behind him.

“Damn thing’s broke!” The old man said as the
scanner’s light glowed red, his hand still inside the scanner’s
dome.

“Collin? What’s wrong?” The older lady behind
him asked as a siren began to blare. A Guardian quickly jumped down
in front of the man, as she grabbed her husband. “Collin? What’s
going on?” She asked again.

“The damn thing says I’ve got the plague!” He
said, as the fear welled up in his voice. His hand was still in the
scanner. As the Guardian approached, a mist began to spray down
into the crowd from the overhead. People began to run away from the
older man, as they pushed one another in a panic. He began to pull
at his hand, as he tried desperately to free it from the scanner
which had clamped down as soon as it had been triggered red. The
crowd had become more hostile, as some stepped on those that had
fallen, just to get away from the contaminated man.

“Be calm.” A loud voice emitted out of the
Guardian. “The plague has been isolated. You are in no danger.” The
Guardian, a full foot taller than the man before him, seized the
older man, and touched him lightly with the tip of his control
stick. His eyes still called to his wife, as his knees buckled from
under him, and he fell unconscious.

“Collin!” She screamed as she broke down in
hysterics. Another Guardian jumped down and held her from going to
her husband as the first Guardian reached into a compartment on its
side and retrieved a small black object. With a flick of its wrist
the object opened into a large black plastic bag and in matter of
seconds, the Guardian quickly covered and sealed the man within.
Suddenly a large steel boom swung into view overhead from over the
side of the rusted road wall, and from its tip, a steel cable
ending in a hook was already being lowered. Within moments, the
Guardian had fastened the hook to the bag, and quickly and silently
the cable retracted. The boom swung the bag containing unconscious
man up and over the rusted steel wall. The man was gone. His wife,
now unconscious from a touch of the Guardian’s control stick, was
quickly lifted by the Guardian that had approached her, slung over
its massive shoulder, and removed from the area. Less than a minute
had passed and it was all over.

Being next in line, Donovan stepped up to the
scanner and cautiously placed his hand in the scanner. He squeezed
his eyes tightly shut as he did. The scanners light continued to
glow green. He peeked through one eye, and sighed relief, as he was
pushed ahead by the others behind him.

At his station, Jericho couldn’t help but
smile about what had happened on the beach that morning. Though the
reaction of the man who had scanned red had shaken him up, it was a
commonplace occurrence in their lives. Not everyday, or even every
week, but it happened often enough that when it happened it was not
considered unusual. Just unfortunate. For as long as he could
remember, or even as long as his father could remember, or even his
father’s father, the plague had been rampant, but seemed only to
infect a few. Since forever, those that scanned positive with the
plague had been immediately taken to Quarantine. He remembered with
old sorrow, that his own mother had been taken there so long ago
that he did not think of it everyday anymore. It was for the best.
It was the rule. Isolate the plague and keep it from being able to
spread was what they were taught when they were young. One day he
hoped as they all did, that they would find a cure, and that was
why everyone worked so hard at the factory. They worked long twelve
hour days, every day, as each did their assigned tasks in finding
the cure for the plague. Jericho had been at his current station
for years now, and though he was not quite sure how his specific
assignment would lead to any future cure, he executed his duties
flawlessly, tirelessly, and endlessly. Someday they would find the
cure, but until then, this was the way it had to be, he knew it. It
was his assignment, and he obeyed.