Fall, Rise, Repeat

by Matthew Schneider

  “Because it’s so...uniform. There will never be a world like that, so it doesn’t make sense to believe in one. I think we must work with what we have.”

  “But dear...don’t you desire to be the ruling class?”

  “A ruler? I am nothing of the sort. I may be a leader, but I am not fit to rule.”

  “It’s a powerful job. Shame you don’t share my vision,” Zav said, continuing to daydream in the reflection of the window. “I...just...imagine having the power to bend will at any given moment...I just picture that a beautiful thing.”

  Jaiyana fidgeted where she stood, staring out the window. She glanced at Zav but quickly turned to face the door out of the room. “Some dreams best be kept in our sleep. I must go, Xavier. I will see you soon.”

  After Jayana left, Zav continued to fantasize about ruling over New America, hoping it might one day become reality. If only there weren’t so many people and things and events getting in the way! What a life it could be if only life was fair to him. But fair to one then fair to none.

  Zav returned to his room a few minutes later. He sat down at the desk and opened up his document from the previous day. He drummed his fingers as he pondered.

  “Day 47. I woke to the sight of the land surrounding the city in a great mix of fire and smoke. Upon meeting Major General Ryker, I learned that he authorized the enemy territory to be firebombed. I can only imagine the extensive casualties. But these setbacks have only inspired me to work harder! Everyday I can believe in a better tomorrow!”

  Zav smiled and leaned back in his chair. What a thoughtful person he was! If just 48 days ago he had been given the task to speak at the intensity and intelligence that he currently was, he couldn’t have done it.

  “But alas, I cannot credit all my dreams and hopes to the world that strives to defeat me. I have some sort of gear deep inside me that continues to crank no matter the time. It forces me to keep working; working in hope that one day I will reach the top. But football coaches – I played football for two years in middle school – will always tell you: don’t be the best, just always get better! But where can you climb when you reach the top of a pyramid? Only Gods can ascend above this…

  “I cannot say that I am anything of the sort. But I do hope that one day I will be able to look down and proudly say to myself, ‘Xavier Starr, you have shown the world that you have the strength to climb so high!’ and, hopefully, there will be an audience to applaud appropriately.

  “But how should anyone interpret this? Why do I share this? Because I want people to think and realize the same thing. If life really is a ladder, then anything less than the top is merely a failure. You cannot climb one peg and give up. Only weakness from that participant; climbing halfway or three quarters is just as unbeneficial...if life’s sole purpose is to ascend this ladder and reach the highest point, then not reaching this is only...a waste of life. Why should an engineer create a masterful computer that does not complete a full task? But this...this! This is where I stutter.

  “If life is a ladder, and each step is a process in life...then what are these steps that we must take that let us climb? It is very simple: the one thing that sets you apart from others on any task – assuming you are still on this hierarchical ladder that I have placed in your mind – is to BE better than others. And if I have seen that life is like the aforementioned metaphors...then that is the task at hand. Be better. Be greater. Make tomorrow today and today the best yet.”

  Zav fell asleep at the desk.

  Chapter 20

  Zav fell off the desk. He landed heavily on the ground in a heap of drool and limbs. He pushed himself against the wall with his arms and blinked until his vision was able to focus on the kitchen in front of him. He yawned and stood up.

  In the kitchen he found one last tea bag. He heated water and slowly submerged the bag into the liquid. He seeped until satisfied with the tea and placed the warmed cup against his lips. His eyes darted around and landed on the uncleaned coffee stain on the carpet.

  “I bwetter cween dat up…” he murmured, careful not to lose any of the tea in his mouth.

  He carried his mug out of his room and walked through the hallway. He inspected each door as he passed to see if it was a janitor’s closet. When he realized he had passed the last door at the end of the hall, he turned around and went back to the elevator.

  He hummed to himself while he waited for the doors to open. He pressed for the ground floor and his humming synced with the gentle elevator music. He was completely relaxed and in a dazed mindset, dreaming still of a magical land where everything was pristine and orderly.

  The doors opened and he stepped out. He paced through the lobby, staying close to one wall.

  He continued to mindlessly wander, searching for a closet, until he suddenly realized he was back in the lobby and the stout lady from the libertarian-left district was standing in front of him.

  Zav blinked at the woman, drinking carefully from his mug with his neck stuck out in front of his body and his back hunched.

  “Starr, you and I need to have a meeting. I have very important propositions and expectations. I promise, you do not want to skip this,” the lady said, folding her arms.

  Zav nodded his head slowly, comprehending everything. “Allow me to finish this drink,” he said. After a few moments, he softly slurped and placed the mug back on the check-in counter. “Where would you like to meet?”

  The lady looked around and pointed to the small conference room opposite of the lobby.

  She marched directly to the conference room, Zav slothing behind her. She swung open the door and held it open for the sloth.

  Zav plopped himself in the closest chair and stared at her.

  “Now,” she began.

  “Do you ever have those naps where you expect to wake up refreshed but you’re just totally wrecked? I’m guessing I didn’t reach the appropriate sleep cycle or something of the sort. But continue,” Zav interrupted.

  The lady clenched her jaw and sat down in the seat in front of her. “You wanted chosen representatives made up of whom the people wanted to lead. I was chosen on behalf of civil and tolerant people. Our district is the only one which is not as awful as the others.”

  Zav drummed his fingers against the table. “Okay, so you just told me your people are a bunch of children. Continue,” he offered.

  “Bastard! We are the only ones not fighting. We are the only people who aren’t running around like fascists or asserting power or disturbing peace. And you complain about one terrorist attack in my district but you are okay with a city being destroyed?”

  “Well that’s definitely an assumption. And the rest of that was complete nonsense. You would like to believe that your district full of legislated and enforced morality offers any sort of freedom whatsoever? The next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you want me to enforce your political ideology across the city!”

  “Well, here’s the thing. There are a lot of people who live here and expect representation. And I am exactly that – but you are not being the centrist that you should be! You’re completely ignorant of anything on the left and just assume the authoritarian power for yourself,” she said.

  “Okay, you’ve complained enough. What do you want me to do?” asked Zav, stroking his chin. He was well awake now.

  “We need you to resign from power. Else, we will have no choice but to take it from you. There are many people who side with me on this, Mr. Starr. I suggest you make the correct decision.”

  Zav leaned forward. He folded his fingers and rested his hands on the table. “You’re threatening a revolution because your tolerant political ideology has proven ineffective? You despise war yet threaten death? You attempt to disrupt power but seek it yourself? You are a puny and misled creature on a broad horizon.”

  The lady leaned forward as well. “Michelle Grant. I promise this name will soon replace Xavier Starr.”

  Zav chuckled. “Too bad liberals aren’t very good at keep
ing their promises.”

  Grant sighed and stood up. “The revolution will give you one final choice.”

  Zav also stood up. He shook his head and closed his eyes to think. “You lefties already caused the destruction of the country. We have constructed a new one from the dust and you try again to destroy it. You were injured. I gave you crutches. You fell again. You seek revenge.”

  “You never—”

  “It’s a metaphor, darling,” Zav said, and swung open the door, marching out of the room and returning to the elevator.

  He stiffened up and reached out for the button but paused just before his finger made contact. He squinted into the reflection of the golden elevator door. He tilted his head so the shadows weren’t in the way, and took a steady breath in.

  His head began to turn, his left shoulder following, pulling his torso around. His peripheral vision caught unexpected movement and he dropped to the floor as a bullet soared over his head and buried itself into the metal elevator door— snippets of the metal flew out and tore at Zav’s suit coat. His head whipped and he stared at the barrel of the pistol aimed at him just two yards away, held by Grant.

  “You fucking imbecile! I’ll kill you!” Zav shouted, pouncing on the lady. Shock filled her and restricted her from pulling the trigger. Only after she felt the impact of Zav slamming into her chest did she react and fire the pistol—at the ceiling, hitting a light, and a shower of glass sprinkled the room.

  Zav gripped her wrist tightly and squeezed the pistol out of her grip. It clattered to the ground and he winced at the high-pitched scraping noise it made.

  “Enough is enough! You must be stopped! You are a madman! A tyrant! An unfit ruler controlling the very souls of the people and leading them to darkness!” screeched Grant.

  Zav leaned over her, drool dripping from his clenched teeth and landing on her face. She cringed as it rolled across her cheek and bordered her eye. “You do not understand, you...dumb bitch,” he began, huffing as he continued to hold her down. “There is no civilization without order! If it were not for me, you would already be dead, yet you have taken the opportunity to make an attempt on my life—”

  “Xavier Starr! Stop!” cried a voice from the front door of the hotel.

  At the main doors stood a small number of soldiers in mismatched uniforms.

  “We stand with Grant on her stampede through your heinous reign. Release her immediately before there’s trouble,” finished the rebel.

  “This is unbelievable. A month into the apocalypse and the single stable society left in this world is threatened by you folks!”

  Grant spit through her teeth and gasped for air. Zav had not realized that his knee was digging into her stomach. “Surrender, Starr. Grant assumes power from here.”

  Zav watched the rebels carefully, inspecting their body language. All of them had partially raised their weapons. Zav tested their eagerness to fire by slithering his hand to his pistol.

  He spoke to distract them: “Is killing me really your only solution? I thought liberals demanded a strong government? Or is that only when it aligns with your crooked ideology?”

  One rebel inched forward and held up his hand. His face was wretched with scars that spoke of previous accidents. “Don’t assume that we’re all aligning with a particular political view here. It’s a very poor decision to assume—”

  Zav snatched at the pistol and aimed it at the man. He pulled the trigger twice and did not wait for the impact of the bullets before he pulled himself off Grant and ran for cover. All within a second, the man felt at his stomach and the rebels began marching forward. So it seemed they were completely refusing to use their weapons.

  But all the commotion had not gone unnoticed; a Continental troop flooded the lobby, their weapons dancing around the scared rebels.

  Zav stood upright and placed the pistol on the table in front of him. “Guards...I ask that you lead these revolutionists out of the building and execute them.” The soldiers and the rebels turned to face Zav with surprise. Zav took a step back. “We cannot afford to let these disgraceful people stand in our way. They just attempted to assassinate the president of the New United States. And as far as a trial—they have been found guilty at the order of my own decision and should be executed at once.”

  The soldiers turned to the rebels. One even looked down at the sitting and bleeding rebel that Zav had the pleasure of injuring. One soldier turned to Zav and shook his head. “It would be immoral to wrongfully kill people with an opposing ideology for the sake that you disagree with them. Should they have barged in here with weapons? No—”

  “But hell! Either I get some active protection, in which case the very people around me will be put in danger, or we get rid of these rebels now—at the least take them out and put them in the wasteland. We must prevent another war at all costs!” Zav shouted, walking around the table and stepping towards the mob.

  The rebels continued to look from the soldiers to Zav frantically. Zav’s facial expression had sunken to displeasure with their disobedience. Grant sat upright and stared at the rebels.

  Suddenly, the rebel in the front charged with her bayonet at Zav. His eyes grew sizably and he threw out his arm, deflecting the barrel of the weapon and grabbing the gun. The rebels bustled and pushed against the soldiers with a sudden burst of motivation to stand against the greater force.

  Zav pulled the gun out of the woman’s hand and kicked her in the hip, sending her flying to the ground and sliding against the somewhat shiny floor. He pointed the rifle at her, then swung it to the rebels. The soldiers had enclosed on them, controlling their motion with weapons aimed at their heads. So it seemed people were okay with killing others when their immediate well-being was threatened but not when his was.

  Zav looked down at the frightened woman. Her short blue hair was displeasing to look at—such an odd color! Not even royal, or azure, or sky, but it was as if someone took an unclean swimming pool and dumped it on her head.

  “I sentence you to death for your crimes against the state,” Zav said. He fired into the woman, the bullets tearing holes through her flesh and pushing her backward.

  The rebels cried out in protest, drawing Zav’s attention. He was surprised to realize he was now completely unphased by committing murder.

  The soldiers had adjusted their stance and reaffirmed dominance, ready to fire their weapons. Zav raised his chin and walked up to the closest rebel. He breathed on the face of the rebel and snarled. “Where did you get these weapons? Is Grant really leading you?”

  “Grant redistributed the weapons. You’d have to ask her—oh! Please spare me! Grant is taking orders from the lady, don’t you realize? Not me—I beg!” the rebel cried out, pressing against Zav.

  Zav stepped back and turned back to the table. He picked up the pistol and shot Grant in the foot. “That is so you will not escape while I clean up the rest of the confusion.” He pointed at the pack of rebels. “Nobody will be inspired by your basic rebellion and there will be no further disruptions.”.

  The soldiers disarmed the rebels and placed their weapons on the ground away from Grant, then headed outside.

  After the soldiers and rebels left the lobby, Zav sat down next to Grant. “You take orders from a superior, yet you tell me that your name will be the one to replace mine? Please explain.”

  Grant leaned over and grabbed Zav by the neck. He did not hesitate to grab the pistol at his side and hit her over the head. She fell back to the floor and stared up at the ceiling.

  “You lived such a short legacy. I think if you were a bit more intelligent you may have been able to outsmart me and your leader. But now you already know what the next question is—”

  “MEH—” gurgled Grant. Her reddened eyes shook as they focused on Zav.

  Zav scooped his arm under her shoulder and propped her against the table. He squatted in front of her and smiled. “Death is upon you. Why keep information from me? The only thing to make this worse is that I make your
death slower and more painful.”

  Grant’s bottom lip quivered. “Hand me the pistol.”

  Zav watched her eyes. He slid the pistol over to her. Grant wrapped her fingers around the handle and lifted it. “It was Jaiyana.” Grant pulled the trigger and fired into her jaw, blood spraying out of her mouth, nose, and eyes like a sprinkler as she was tossed backwards.

  Zav twitched as he stared at the gruesome scene before him—but pondered her words.

  He stood up and turned to the hotel doors. He stopped in his tracks.

  Jaiyana stood in the doorway like a silhouette. “Power is granted, not taken. I will be back. The rebellion grows against you.”

  She closed the door and walked away. Zav stood, dumbstruck, unable to respond. He blinked and watched her fade away in the distance. He felt his knees tremble and his feet grow tired; his shoulders weighed down upon him and his head began to sink. He fled to the elevator and sat down in his room at the computer desk. He leaned back and stared at the colossal amount of text in front of him. He smiled briefly but began to speak as he felt a rush of adrenaline pump through him.

  “The next day. It has begun. Is this the beginning of the end—”

  Seven gunshots echoed outside of the building. They were orderly and defined. Zav paused for a moment to reconsider his thoughts. “Or is this the end of the end? The world has fallen, and the more I stare into the abyss of the darkness outside of this city and the deep hole in my heart, the more I contemplate giving up. I fight in battles over and over and over and over again! Exclamation point! No, two of them!!”

  The text adjusted itself to read: “again!!”

  Zav raised his eyebrows at the intelligent technology. “How long will man endure Hell on Earth and every imaginable pain before God grabs him up and takes him away? But I think I am too far gone for someone like me to go to Heaven...instead, I can only imagine that God will send me to a place of my own—the Devil calls me his brother and gives me my own realm of Hell—they said I was once noble and now twisted.