By By any sane measure, sprinting through a murky forest in the early hours of the morning was dangerous. Stealing meaningless trinkets from a local tyrant was even more so. Based on the enthusiasm of the chase, perhaps they weren’t so meaningless to the owner after all.
One psychopath’s trinket was another man’s death sentence if he was caught stealing them. No one had probably said such a thing, but it would certainly apply to a foolish person. Callum, one such foolish person, chanced a frantic glance over his shoulder but failed to detect pursuit. Damp fog and hazy moonlight seemed to give the night an otherworldly and demonic feel; much like the crazed maniac’s henchmen he was running from.
The items themselves had no real meaning to Callum. However, they could easily be carried and might offer some value to the few individuals in this part of the shattered country that could still afford to buy or trade for them. That’s what Callum needed for his family: food, warm blankets and medical supplies.
A tall, bulky figure burst out of the mist ahead like some immovable golem. Before he could react, Callum crashed into the figure and instantly understood the person’s immovability. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
*
Callum woke and shook his head to clear the fog clinging to his mind. Sharp stabs of pain indicated this was a bad idea. He ached…everywhere. There was blood in his mouth and a quick examination with his tongue showed that a tooth was missing.
He was sitting on an old dining chair that was probably once luxurious. Its cushioning had been recklessly ripped away, leaving a stray strip of desiccated leather to dig painfully into his side. Metal bindings dug deeply into his exposed wrists and ankles, greatly restricting his movement.
Before him, a tall, lean man was seated behind a faded desk, making a sandwich of all things. Callum hadn’t been conscious for most of the sandwich’s construction, but he did observe a final, measured application of mayonnaise before a thick slice of bread was placed carefully on top. The man paused a moment and a small smile spread across his cruel features as he considered his creation.
People like Callum, in fact most people now, no longer had the means or luxury for such an endeavour. Food was scarce and the desperate were impatient.
The Mayor looked up and seemed to pierce Callum with a sinister gaze.
“There will be few niceties like sandwiches in the times to come. Best to enjoy the little luxuries now, don’t you think?”
The speaker, known to many as the Mayor because of his sudden rise to rulership amidst the chaos spreading across the country, glanced briefly at Callum before returning his focus to his carefully assembled creation. “Is this why you stole from me? Indulging in a little luxury before the world falls and they become meaningless?”
“A working cigarette lighter is no mere luxury for those of us out there.” Callum indicated toward rough boards nailed across the dilapidated office’s dirty windows. “It’s a valuable necessity…while its usable. We’ll sell it or trade it for what we can get when it runs out of gas. You wouldn’t know about that sort of desperation, would you?”
The Mayor didn’t respond to the overt condemnation, “perhaps you think I should be lenient because the item is valueless to me? No. Everything here is mine: worthless trinkets and priceless artifacts alike. No one steals either from me. Besides, you do not know the sacrifices I have made to rise to such an auspicious position.”
Callum felt hunger gnaw at him as he watched the Mayor take a generous bite from the sandwich.
Wiping his mouth with a faded and monogrammed silk napkin, the Mayor considered his captive. “Not too long from now, the world will complete its descent into chaos. Many will die. Mayhem will consume the unlucky survivors. They will cry out for salvation. Plead for it. They will offer all that remains to them in exchange for that salvation: their pitiful selves. You, I, and a selection of others, will listen safely from behind barbed wire and concrete.”
Callum was incredulous. How could he go from certain death for theft to, what, a lifeline?
“Why me? What do you want for my…salvation?”
The Mayor smiled; a mix of devilry and sincerity. “Everything. All that you have now, and your labour and skills after. You are a rare beast, Callum: smart, technically astute, physically strong and an iron will.”
“Are you kidding? We barely have anything, and we need what little we have just to survive.”
“Perhaps, but why struggle like this? I could save myself the trouble and have you killed right now. I could cast you out, which would be much the same…and I would save a bullet. This crumbling world would consume you and your loved ones, although I suspect you are capable of surviving longer that most.”
The Mayor savoured another bite of sandwich, chewed with visible pleasure then swallowed. “The young, skilled and strong will be needed to rebuild after. You are all these things.”
Callum listened as the horrific sounds of a dying world seemed to reach out and claim his soul. Frenzied shouting, distant gunfire and futile sirens had long since replaced birdsong and the other bright sounds of a thriving world. Nature was receding and humanity was going with it.
“Fine. I’ll do it. Just let me bring my family too. They will be able to help in whatever you have set up.”
The Mayor clapped his hands in glee and took a generous bite from his sandwich. Around a satisfied mouthful, he said, “You’ve made the right choice, my boy, not that you really had any choice, of course. I didn’t get to where I am now by giving others actual freedom.”
The Mayor moved from behind his desk to lean over Callum. For his part Callum tried to keep his demeanour calm but the taller man radiated menace paired with rotten breath.
“By the way, I have already been to your hovel and taken everything. You may see your family again, but perhaps not. It will depend on how enthusiastic you are with your new tasks.”
“You bastard,” growled Callum through gritted teeth. He attempted to leap out of the chair but only managed to stumble and fall sideways, banging his head painfully on bare concrete. A whimper escaped before he could suppress it.
“Don’t injure yourself. You have a lot of work yet to do.”
