An incessant beeping filled the air. John turned over in his sleep and mashed the alarm clock, until he found the ‘off’ button. He yawned and stretched in bed, then rolled out and made his way to the small ensuite connected to his room. He undressed, and took a quick 5 minute shower, before towelling off, pulling on a fresh pair of pants, and moving over to the mirror to shave.
As he looked into the mirror, he came face-to-face with a man he barely recognized. He was thin, not gaunt, but getting close. Well-toned muscles made up his body, with a network of old scars and not-so-old closed wounds along his arms and bare chest. John lathered up his face, and dragged his razor lightly along it, removing the dark brown hair from his chin and upper lip.
After shaving, he exited the small bathroom, and pulled on a white shirt, before pulling a military jacket over it. The jacket was dirty, and from the various patches across it, had seen a lot of duty. It had no badges or tags on it, apart from a red, three-pointed heart on the right shoulder. He trudged over to the dresser, grabbing a pistol off the top of it. The pistol was an old one, a M1911 from WWII. Other models of the same gun, cannibalized to find parts for it, so much so that it was now a Frankenstein, much stronger and durable than the original design. John slid the pistol into a holster on his hip.
He then picked up a photo from the dresser, showing a young woman with dark blonde hair. He kissed it and set it back down. He walked out the door to his apartment, looking back in once, before closing the door, and heading down the stairs next to the entrance to his his room.
John reached the bottom floor, and immediately looked around for the chief engineer, Geoffrey. Every three days, Geoffrey would give John a report on how their colony was going. John spotted the middle-aged man, and made his way over.
Geoffrey was talking to one of the engineers under him, ‘David’ John thought.
Geoffrey gave the David a reassuring pat on the back, who turned around and headed away.
As John approached Geoffrey, the man started making his way over.
“How is everything?” asked John.
“We’re getting low on food,” replied Geoffrey, falling into step with John. “And the generator for floors 3 to 5’s broken some stuff. I’m running the others harder to cover up for it, so I reckon we got a week till everything gets worse.”
“I’ll talk to Rick, see where we can hit next.” John said.
“I’ll write a list of what I need to fix the generator.” Geoffrey said. “But there’s another thing.”
“Oh?”
Geoffrey looked around the crowded lobby and motioned John further towards one of the corners.
“David. I just talked to him, and he wants to be converted.”
“But the nearest conversion Bureau’s a week away? Why does he want to go through the danger?”
“His wife died a week ago. He thinks conversion could have saved her. And it could have. That’s the problem John. People know that opting out is better than what we have here. We lose good people that could be saved every week. We can’t keep this up.”
“I’m no leader Geoff. I just go and get food, that’s it.”
“But you are our leader. You brought all of these people together, many have you to thank for their lives. But by not letting them convert, you’re killing them.”
“We’re the last humans left Geoff, the last good humans. I don’t want us to die out with just those HLF bastards left, we’re better than that.” John growled.
“Then prove it. Guide them again, not everyone will, but those that’ll be a problem will. You’re hitting two birds with one stone. You know we won’t be able to keep going forever, even your wife saw...”
“Don’t bring my wife into this!” John said coldly.
“Relax John. Just go on a run, and think it over. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”
John nodded, deep in thought, and turned around to try and find Rick, the man in charge of their maps and scouting. He would give John a location, a couple square miles, which John and his men would scour for supplies. Some days would bring in enough food to last a week, others, just another conflict with other survivors or the Human Liberation Front.
John wandered around the lobby of the Plaza Hotel. It was the centre of the fort that John and his men had constructed, and it now housed about 1,000 people that had chosen to stay human, rather than turn pony. John checked his PAD, and noted the time, 9:30, trying to figure out where Rick could be at this time.
The PAD (personal assistance device) was a relatively new invention. They had been in development for military use when John was just a little kid, but went civilian a few years after their introduction. They were very similar to Pip-boys from the Fallout series of games that John’s Father had played with him when he was a kid. They were basically a ‘smart phone’ mounted around a person’s wrist. Many had basic functions such as calendars, watches and the ability to call anyone. Military grade ones, like John’s had more functions suited to combat. His included a Two-way radio, a compartment for small blades, as well as the ability to inject adrenaline into John’s wrist. John only had one more of the practically life saving stuff.
There were also more specialised ones, some carried morphine as well as adrenaline, and could be used to quickly perform basic medical diagnostics. Some were made for secret agents and stuff, including a USB cable and a small set of explosives, as well as a lock picking kit. Some of them could even cloak a user, although John doubted such advances had been invented. It could also connect to the Internet, but, as with phones, electricity and water, the companies had shut down, killing access to basic amenities.
Surviving had become a full-time job.
John had started with a simple vision, a safe haven for those who had not chosen a side. He had started with his small squad of men, gathering them up. He had contacted old friends, finding most had chosen a side. John then gathered everyone he could, and led them here, to the Plaza Hotel. He had turned it into a fort, blocking off road access inside the surrounding buildings, then slowly, searching the nearby areas for other survivors. In this, John had been lucky. Many skilled people lived in the area, so many so, that within a month, he had a fully functioning town. About a hundred survivors resided in ‘The Bulwark’ as people had taken to calling it. Within those, John had found military men like himself, a handful of medical trainees, and several engineers. He had wasted no time in getting everything set up.
John rounded the corner, and went through the door leading to the stairs. The elevators had had the power cut, to conserve electricity. John headed up the stairs, through to the un-powered section of the hotel. He found Rick at the top, on his balcony, gazing over the top, with various maps on the table beside him, being weighed down by a laptop. A sniper rifle leaned against the fence enclosing the balcony.
John approached Rick from behind, drawing his pistol, and pointed it towards Ricks head. He kept on walking, closer and closer, trying to not make any sound. John held the gun about a centimetre away from Ricks head and said.
“Gotcha!”
Rick started clapping, and turned around. As he moved towards John, John moved backwards, keeping a safe distance between him and Rick. He knew that the man was fast, and could easily jerk the gun out of his hands and over, into the ant-sized city below.
Rick kept advancing on John, still smiling, his hands forming an L shape next to his body. Suddenly, John felt something poke the back of his neck. He froze. Whatever it was, it stayed there. Rick turned around, keeping Rick in the corner of his eye, but dropped the gun to his side when he saw what had been poking him in the back of the head. John stared down the barrel of the rifle, as if he could wish it away.
“Pressure plate or tripwire?” asked John.
“Hand activated actually. You would have noticed either.” Replied Rick.
Rick and John would constantly have these games, John trying to get Rick before he could net John in one of his home-made traps. They were both getting better, but John had yet to ‘kill’ Rick before he had his head blown off or received a deadly voltage, or, most creatively, been tripped up by squashed cake, then suffocated with a party balloon.
John shook his head.
“Anyways, we need another place to hit.” John said.
“Gimme a sec.” Replied Rick gruffly, moving over to the laptop on the table. He typed for several seconds, then pulled a few of the pieces of paper out from underneath the laptop out. He shuffled into his room, John on his heels.
He walked over to a large that had been pinned to a large table, and pulled out a few pencils and highlighters. He looked at his maps a few more times, typed a few more commands into the laptop, then turned and faced Rick.
“I got a place, we think it has a decent amount of food, and it should have those parts.” Rick said.
“What parts?” John asked, coyly.
“The ones for the generator.” Rick said, one eyebrow raised.
“I have no idea...” John started
“Just let me get this over with.” Rick said, interrupting.
“Fine.”
“Anyways, we saw a couple of Human Liberation Front guys in there a few weeks ago. They weren’t packing much, so my guess is a scouting party. They would’ve left by now, but see if they left anything. A piece of junk to you is a piece of junk I can turn into a nuke, so just bring back anything they left. Unless you are ABSOLUTELY sure it has ABSOLUTELY no value whatsoever.”
“Gotcha”
“Pass us your PAD.”
John took of the leather glove encircling his PAD, and pulled out the touch pad. He passed it to Rick, who took it, and plugged it into his laptop. He stepped back from the laptop, and looked at John.
“So... what’s the happy-haps?” asked Rick.
“The usual. Eating, sleeping, shootin’ at stuff.”
“Daily grind in our empty world. I meant with the ponies.”
“I haven’t heard anything from them.”
“What about the people who want the conversion? What are you gonna do about them?”
John laughed. “You know about that?”
“Of course I do, I don’t live up here for the loneliness.”
John sighed. “I dunno. I don’t want to seem like some kind of tyrant, but, what are they gonna do? Just up and quit on the
human race?”
“We’ve had no chance for decades now, what difference do a few people make?”
“You’ve been there, you know what it’s like, and we can’t be that. Humans have survived everything, including us. This is just a phase, we’ll be back.”
“And then what? We’ll just screw up again. We screwed up the earth too much, it’s not like we can just escape it and travel to the moon.”
“I know, it’s just... we can’t let the last humans left be those HLF bastards, we’re better than that, she has to see that.” John said angrily.
“She has, that’s why she offered us a way out. Humans will live on, but not as humans.”
The laptop beeped, and Rick turned away, pulling the Pad out of his laptop. He handed it to John, who took it with a nod. He headed for the door. As he pulled it open, he heard Rick say from behind him.
“Humans adapt John, it’s what we do. But sometimes, we can’t do it on our own.”