Genesis Virus

by Pinto, Daniel

  Humans have transubstantiated into a preternatural progression. That is gallivanting across this nation and the rest of humanity is content to be trapped in a bygone era rather than adapt. I wish not to prolong my life, but to maximize it. I’m not the cog in the machine, I am the watchmaker.

  It is the worst of times and I have my mind’s eye on the best of times. You can’t please everyone, so start with yourself. Every idea worth having has a spectrum of belief and you can never win in everyone’s eyes because winning is a spectrum as well. You have to step through the darkness to get to the light, to get what you want. The only right, people have, is the right to die, everything else is basically white noise. When you die on the moral high ground, I won’t bury you. Violence isn’t always the answer, yet sometimes it’s the only answer. Self-preservation is heroic and choice is an illusion in this regard, all my reactions are predetermined by who I’m supposed to be and I can only be that if I’m alive.

  Perfection is a concept we hide behind in fear of trying or the fear of failing. “Why try if I can never be perfect,” it’s a seductive excuse for committing bad behavior. “I hit my wife, I’m not perfect,” and “I only believe in God when it’s convenient, nobody’s perfect.” My plan may not be a Grenada, a for-sure win. Yet, it focuses on the building blocks for any future, it starts with life, plain and simple. Procreation is the meaning of life for scientists and religious men, for good reason, but they don’t own that idea. Biology is the precursor for any theology and must take precedent. My men need something to live for, and the Breeding Program goes beyond carnal pleasure, it’s about creating a legacy for every man. When a person retires, first goes their health, then comes the funeral. It could be their age or their will to live. Still this happens when they have it all except a job that gives them meaning and a purpose. This Negative Utopia lacks too much, to worry about fucking jobs, but I hope you get my point. Creating families and building something that will be greater than ourselves is not a waste of time, it gives the men something to focus on, at first themselves, and in doing so the utilitarian plan will help the greater good in the long run. We no longer have the luxury of being gay, men and women both must make sacrifices. People might not like it, but they will live long enough to get over it.

  Inequality defines each person, if everyone was a beautiful billionaire who lived forever that happens to also be smart and funny, then these traits that are valued would no longer have meaning. Winners can’t exist without losers, don’t hate me, hate the truth and the human spirit. The quickest way to success is to know how the system works and in my case, the human mind, which I must exploit to save the human body.

  Armed services across the globe had to tear down a person in order to build them back up in their image to succeed in their mission. Why can’t I? Men and women protected their countries because first and foremost they got paid and it was a chance to protect their loved ones. People don’t want to die or waste a chunk of their lives serving people they have nothing in common with. It’s normal to value your life and loved one’s lives over everyone else’s. Keep it straightforward; get compensated to protect loved ones, not save the world, that is my mission.

  No one’s problems are original, however; I can still minimize their emotions or reactions. The women of the past only wanted to be equal with men only in positive aspects; hundreds of millions of men have died in wars throughout time for their families and for the idea of a brighter future. This is women’s chance to help humankind by not killing in a war, like no woman ever has in an American war, but to raise and love their children. Some men, not mankind is responsible for the prosecution of women throughout history and that fact bares no relevance with today’s problems. All I’m asking for is one generation of women to focus on the notion of love, just not with their sexual partners, but for humanity. I know it’s a lot to ask and some women will willingly do it for security and stability that I can offer them, but I need all the women now, not when they’re desperate and dying. Arranged marriage is far older than the concept of love in marriage, which was first created to protect and increase family wealth. Not to romance women and to sweep them off their feet like in the countless love stories that have lied to people, so they can believe in a happy false-truth and perpetuate the myth that marriage is more than a contract. Contracts by their very nature are a tool to get more from the other parties who sign it. We are all slaves of the law, in order that we may be able to be free to live longer lives and keep death waiting.

  The Boss

  Chapter Six

  1

  The rest of group looks for David’s signal as Ava and Lou get ready for battle.

  She says. “What’s going on?”

  Delilah says. “His hands are up.”

  Ava paces around while Lou loads his shotgun inside and out.

  “No cross, no cross, no go.” Everyone shouts that’s looking at David.

  Ava takes the binoculars from Delilah. “Maybe you all missed it.”

  Delilah rolls to her side. “Watch it.”

  Ava looks downcast. “I know David. He didn’t take many weapons because it would make the rescue harder, if you noticed you only heard his gunfire, not theirs and he emptied the gun before surrendering.”

  Lou says. “You don’t know that, there could be more guys with guns somewhere, it’s too risky.”

  Ava says. “If that was true, why did they let David kill some of their men?”

  Lou says. “Because they’re crazy or smart like the new girl said, they probably figured less men, more supplies for themselves. I don’t know and you don’t either. And that’s the point that’s stopping all of us from rushing in there, gung-ho style.”

  Youngblood jogs up to Ava. “I’m coming with you.”

  The Chief stands up from a crouching position in a fit of incredulity, his upper lip wrinkles. “No you’re not.”

  Youngblood says to his Uncle. “With respect, but don’t stand in my way.” The two Indians have a stare down until Cooper steps in between them and leads the Chief to talk in private.

  Lou says to Youngblood. “You’ve made an important decision, my friend. It’s up to you to keep it a smart choice. Easy lives breed weak men, but you haven’t had that luxury, I believe in you, don’t make me look like a dumbass.”

  Youngblood says. “Why am I so scared?” Lou pats Youngblood’s heart. “Because you’re not stupid.”

  Ava walks up to the guys and breaks up the love fest. “When the sun finally goes down I’m going in. Who’s with me?” Not asking for help, but she wants to make sure who’s going to be running around in the dark.

  Lou says. “Ava you can’t go in. I’ll go with him. You’re the only one who knows about the Boss.”

  Ava glances at all of them. “I’m not planning on dying.”

  Ava points her gun at Delilah as she gathers supplies. “I don’t want your blood on my hands, just stay here new girl.”

  Delilah puts her palms up and stops getting ready to leave. “It doesn’t look like that.”

  Youngblood says. “I feel like we should bring some walkies or something. I’ll follow your lead.”

  Ava hands him her handguns with silencers. “Conserve ammo if you can. Lou hands Youngblood the Chief’s blade. “Take it, it’s longer.”

  Four men each hold onto David by a single limb and carry him into the church, past the pews and alter, and into the depths of the unknown.

  2

  Half an hour after his last nephew’s departure, the Chief ruminates in short circles, with a setting sun behind him like a orange halo.

  Cooper says. “On Mars the sunsets are blue.” His unsubtle way of describing the mood of the remaining group. The list of worries goes every second.

  Lou says. “Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Don’t worry he’s a man that can take care of himself.”

  The Chief bends over to pick up Youngblood’s hatchet. He turns and throws into the tree by Lou. “I’m going down there.”


  Unfazed by the axe over his head, Lou only stops eating at the Chief’s words. “All shit…I’m coming too now.” The Chief grabs his weapons looking at Cooper. “You two watch the camp.”

  Lou grabs his new rifle, courtesy of Delilah’s captors, and one of David’s hand knives. The Chief and Lou run in the dark towards Dead Town.

  Delilah and Cooper calmly stare at each other, not knowing if they’re the lucky or the unlucky ones. A small flashlight turned on is lying on the ground between them. She squats down to the cool earth. “Is it fine, if I call you Coop?”

  Cooper says. “Not really, but we have more pressing matters.”

  Delilah says. “You can go down there with your boys.” He’s silent looking for a better flashlight. The darkness outweighs the light around them.

  She says. “And leave me in charge with all of this. Almost everyone is gone, but the distrust is still here.” She lays back on David’s bag as a pillow, her arms crossed behind her head.

  Cooper says. “You owe David, you would never take all he has left and run.”

  Delilah says. “Exactly, I’m a regular Mother Teresa and you’re the next sinless Pope.”

  Cooper says. “Exactly, We’re both the good guys who owe David.” Cooper feels a speech coming on about booking it. But no speech ever comes only peaceful silence and sleep come from Delilah’s perfect face. Unspoken treachery between strangers is not real until witnessed, but suspicion is the opposite, never seen, but realer than God to everyone.

  3

  David rouses back to life in a dark tunnel; he’s being dragged by two men following the Engineer, a paraffin lantern is in his hand leading the way deeper through the darkness and further away from his friends. I hope Ava listens and leaves me, she doesn’t need my help. His stomach churns and he lowers his head like a submissive ape. Wooden beams brace the walls every ten meters like sophisticated drug cartel tunnels into America or a diamond mine constructed by slaves. Both designed to give people what they want. David demanded to come down here alone. If it was a bad decision, he won’t have to live with it too long.

  Only a few sconces with low burning candles are on the walls. Enough to get lost. The glowing orb around the Engineer stops, his aura now black, in the center of an area that has four identical dark tunnels winding away from him. He contemplates which unique hell to take. By swinging the small lantern into each black hole, savoring the anticipation. A cockerel jumps across the men when they choose a turn, the Engineer kicks at it in post-fright. The lost chicken looks like a baby fox with it’s long black tail feathers.

  David sees a man in a room hanging upside down getting beaten with a two-by-four plank of wood, like he’s a slab of meat wrapped in a old dusty carpet. Low moans and high cheers come from the room.

  The two men drop David in the tunnel; one of them ties his hands behind his back him with rope. In another room directly in front of David, which is oddly well lit, is an aquarium as wide as the room, filled with meaty bones. Dermestidae beetles are busily cleaning the flesh off the bones. White pristine bones that have gone through skeletonization are neatly stacked on wooden shelves standing as tall as the room. Bones are organized by type. Top row is for the crowded adult skulls and a few kid skulls with four rows of teeth, which reveals their young age. Next shelve, torso bones. Next shelve, arms and legs. And lastly, feet bones that look like irregular shaped pebbles.

  The Engineer says. “A man’s got to have a hobby. We all look the same without our layers of lies.”

  David continues to stare in dreadful fascination. At least, I won’t become human bone soup. I’ll be part of a collection, a serial killer’s trophy room that gives him an erection when he looks at my perfectly clean body.

  He’s pushed into a small dark room with a table in the corner, a lantern sits in the center of it. David slumps into the solid wall in a dark corner opposite of the only light.

  The Engineer says. “I got it from here, fellas.”

  The Engineer flips David’s knife as he walks from the table, he leans over David, pinches and stretches his ear away from his head, resting the blade on David’s ear. He looks David in the eyes. “You up…Maybe later.” With his other hand, the Engineer shoves a metal retainer into his mouth, capping each tooth with a sliver spike. “My old choppers are not like they used to be.” He now has a slurping quality to his speech.

  The Engineer places David’s knife on the table. “Our worst fears and best pleasures are realized in anticipation.” Vocal chords tighten, yet not a peep comes out of David.

  The Engineer says. “Lets see how long it takes for your friends to get brave.” David looks around the room, not knowing how big it is.

  The Engineer says. “Me and you have the same eyes boy, don’t fool yourself. Who are you trying to murder?” David closes his eyes in disbelief.

  The Engineer’s rough and ashy knuckles wipes his nose. “Awe, I bet you miss your friend, and you think I’m faggy. Straight, gay, normal, or crazy. It all tastes the same, trust me. Everyone sucks on society’s cock.” David looks at a black wall, maybe the exit. Darkness melds with darkness, waiting to swallow up the bubble of weak light. David’s face feels scuffed up worst than the Engineer’s hands look. Thick scar tissue wraps around his hands over and over as if they received years of torture from nuns slapping them with long rulers.

  The Engineer paces around like a man coming down from a manic high. “These tunnels are my maze and I’m its Minotaur. Do you think all those bodies around here on the poles started out as those walking creatures? We needed new management and they couldn’t keep everyone alive with their weak stomachs and couldn’t make sacrifices for the greater good. They were the town’s council; we ate parts of them and then hung what was left. Their chicken hearts had a gummy texture to them like gizzards.” He’s bucking up and breathing in a loud squeal, sounding like an elephant’s trunk in this compact chamber of a room.

  David slouches against the corner, dirt falls down his shirt. He can see earthworms in the walls, by his face as the man turns the lantern brighter.

  The Engineer says. “All who’s left are fleeting footprints in the sand. The world was an empty room for mankind to fill it with its imagination. But I’m guessing no one imagined this New World. This Genesis Virus is a…BITCH. Mankind didn’t know nothing and that’s why it was scared, but never me. I’m a simple man because I only worry about myself with no allusion that I’m a leader for all. This virus has ripped the curtain of allusion and now we get to experience the true human on a huge scale and not only in small incidents that no one cared about.

  David clears his throat. “If life’s a one-man show, with no audience, it becomes boring. And I think you mean illusion, not allusion.”

  The Engineer stands still as if he wants to say something then steps through the darkness, leaving without a word. David slides up and down the dirt wall; he hears what sounds like metal creaking in the next room. Where’s my knife?

  The Engineer glides back in like a ghost with a wooden bucket, “we have a well,” he takes a sip, then takes off his jacket and hat, then dumps the water over himself. “Sometimes the water taste like shit, what are you going to do, beggars can’t be choosers.”

  Drip, drip, drip, the water falls next to David as he stares up in the Engineer’s face. “Why risk your life for a lost cause? You’re not like the rest, are you David, who are you?”

  “A man in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  The Engineer takes stock of David’s body. “That ring of death is our sign, beware, beware of humans. And you still ignored it and walked right into this web of misery.”

  David says. “First you were a Minotaur, now you’re a spider, make up your fucking mind buddy.” He bangs one leg up and down like a gavel. “The minotaur story involves bestiality, are you fucking chickens down here?”

  The Engineer sits in the chair in the dark, holding the hilt of David’s knife on his chest like a wreath held by the departed. “Hmm…I know
you scared the bejesus out of my men, they weren’t always like that, it was something that changed them, but not full blown like the running dead, Lazarus clones, or crazy fuckers. Pick your name, either way they all want to drink your blood and eat your body. Maybe it was the religious rituals, drink the blood of Christ, and eat the body of Christ shtick. Maybe each of them are taking that a little too seriously.”

  It sounds like the Engineer’s crisscrossing knives in each of his hands against each other like a chef sharpening his tools. “But what do I know I dropped out of high school. I’m surviving, that’s more than I can say about the eggheads and know-it-alls. Which are you?”

  David says. “Who cares what I am, I’m only concern with eating and drinking, so I can see tomorrow.”

  The Engineer says. “Ha. Don’t try to play me, I can tell by your face that you never worked a hard day in your fucking life before all this.”

  David says. “It’s just a face, you’re projecting your delusions and jealously onto me.”

  The Engineer says. “Huh? See I was right, you could of been someone important unlike everyone in this Dead Town. Delinquents of the past and now the present. I bet it kills you everyday to be forced to live with the scum of the Earth. It’s ok to admit the truth, we have done worst to survive.”

  David says. “It’s not so bad. My life is different now, not over.”