Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Have I disappointed you?” Melissa asked.

  “Oh, no, no, don’t ever think you disappointed me. You’re amazing, in fact, you’re probably one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Have you seen my daddy?”

  Looking shocked, Portia replied, “Your father didn’t come visit you?” A final visitation was allowed during the processing period.

  “Is he okay?” she asked.

  “I’m sure he’s fine, just running late,” Portia lied.

  “They said, I’m leaving after I see you. Do you think he’s mad at me?”

  “No, I’m sure he’s just running late, I’ll ask the guard,” Portia said getting back to her feet and knocking on the door.

  The guard promptly opened the door and asked, “All done?”

  “No. Her father. Why wasn’t he informed? He has visitation rights,” she said.

  The guard looked over Portia’s shoulder and lowered his voice, “He declined.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen people do it before. They’re embarrassed, even ashamed at having someone in their family get banished.”

  “Is daddy coming?” Melissa asked, her voice raised.

  Portia turned around and said, “Ah, I’m not sure. I don’t think he knows. They’re going to go find him.”

  As the guard closed the door he said, “Five more minutes.”

  Portia rushed to Melissa’s side and sat in a chair next to her. “Did they say anything about where they’ll take you?”

  “No.”

  Portia was angry with her father. Over and over she asked herself. How can a parent not see their child off?

  Melissa lowered her head and whimpered.

  Seeing her emotional response, Portia knew everything before was an act. Melissa was scared but she had done her best to put up a front that she was tough. “I’m here with you.”

  “Why won’t he come see me?”

  “Like I said, he doesn’t know, but I know the second he finds out, he’ll be here. He loves you deeply,” she lied again. “Speaking of your daddy, did he ever mention where your mother might be?” Portia asked with hopes that the two could reunite outside the gates.

  “No,” Melissa replied wiping tears from her cheeks.

  “When they put you out, the first thing you do is start asking around, you understand. Someone in those small hamlets outside might know where she is,” Portia said.

  Melissa nodded.

  The door opened. “Time is up,” the guard said.

  Melissa leapt into Portia’s arms. “I’m scared," she said finally expressing her feelings.

  “I know you are sweetheart,” Portia said cradling her.

  “Time is up,” the guard barked in his gruff voice.

  “I need a bit more time,” Portia urged.

  “Time is up!” the guard barked and came into the room in an aggressive manner.

  “Melissa, do as I say, as soon as you get outside the walls, go to the nearest hamlet or village and start asking for your mother.”

  Melissa nodded.

  The guard grabbed Portia by the arm. “Time is up, and Number One wants to see you.”

  Portia’s heart skipped a beat.

  Melissa let go and slid down to her feet. “Goodbye, Teacher Seven.”

  The guard pulled Portia to the door. She turned but couldn’t find the strength to say goodbye so she simply said, “Love you.”

  OUTSIDE OF RANGLEY, COLORADO, COLLECTIVE PROTECTED ZONE

  “Collective Prime, this is Driver Eight, come in over,” Kyle radioed. All he got in return was static. “Collective Prime, this is Driver Eight, come in over.” Still static. “Hmm, maybe I’ll try a relay.” He switched the frequency and keyed the microphone. “Any station this net, this is Driver Eight, come in over.” Again, static.

  Barry walked into the room, an LED lantern in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. Holding up the whiskey, he said proudly, “Look what I found.”

  “See I knew you were good for something,” Kyle joked. “Best we check to see if it’s hot.”

  “I did already,” Barry said.

  “Really. I’m not so sure I can trust you considering how well you did putting up the sheeting.”

  Barry sat down and crossed his legs.

  Outside the winds whipped and howled.

  “That’s some storm. We don’t get ones like this back in Prime,” Barry said removing the cap off the bottle.

  “Can I ask how you tested the whiskey?” Kyle asked.

  “The bottle wasn’t open, but figured it would be safe. However, to be careful, I cleaned a large mixing bowl, pours the whiskey in, ran the Geiger over and it didn’t register. I found a funnel, cleaned it then poured the whiskey back into the bottle.”

  “Thorough, I’m impressed,” Kyle said. “And to answer your thought about storms, Prime is shielded from big storms because of all the tall mountains around it.”

  Barry filled two small glasses with whiskey and handed one to Kyle.

  Kyle looked at it and said, “I can assume the glass is clean?”

  Barry returned his question with a look that said, yes. He put the glass to his lips and sipped, “Not bad.”

  Kyle followed but took a larger gulp, “Yeah, not bad at all.”

  “Where do you think Ten went?” Barry asked.

  Further into the Republic I suspect. Hell, I don’t know. What I do know is you’ll never see him again,” Kyle answered.

  “Too bad, he was a good guy, a trusted driver.”

  “A shit bag.”

  Barry took a long drink and said, “You really don’t know shit do you?”

  “I know enough and I know a shit bag when I see one,” Kyle said swishing the whiskey in his glass.

  After taking another swig, Barry laughed, “When we get back, what are you going to tell my father?”

  “I’ve known your father for a long time as you know, I owe him my life. I’ve never lied to him and I don’t plan on doing it in this instance.”

  “Then you’re going to tell him everything?”

  “As I saw, yes.”

  “And what if he does nothing?” Barry asked.

  “I’ll politely remind him of the laws, the laws he created,” Kyle answered.

  “Wow, you really are a self-righteous guy. You think you know everything because you’ve driven a truck.”

  “I don’t claim to know everything, but I know right and wrong.”

  Barry leaned back, glass in his hand and a big smile on his face. “What is right and wrong? Are you using standards from before The Reboot? That’s a different world. Was it so bad for people say a thousand years ago to marry a twelve-year-old? No, because that’s the way things were then. Was it wrong for people to sell slaves back then too? Again, the answer is no, that’s just the ways things were. Your problem Driver Eight, is you’re putting the morals of a dead time onto the present. You haven’t evolved or progressed. This is a new world now with new rules. You either adapt or die.”

  “I don’t care if it was today or ten thousand years ago. Children are children and going around having sex with them is against the laws of nature, period.”

  “The laws of nature? Please don’t bore me with your antiquated political beliefs and talk about laws of nature, natural rights, blah, blah, blah” Barry mocked.

  “What do you know about natural rights?” Kyle asked.

  “Do you think I got taught the same dribble as everyone else? My father let me have access to a vast library. I’ve read every book on governmental systems and political theory. He wanted me to know what we were fighting against. He has been preparing me to rule in his stead as soon as he thinks I’m ready.”

  Kyle took a long drink. He could feel the liquor hitting him.

  “Your other problem Driver Eight, is you’re an idealist. I’ve heard about this code you created for the drivers years ago. My f
ather went along with it only because he likes you. For some reason he’s come to believe you’re a team player, but I see through you. You’re not. You exude individualism. It’s seeps out your pours. You’ve been on the road too long. You somehow have lost sight but let me remind you. You’re not a person, you’re a tool and when you’ve driven your last mile, we’ll find another tool to replace you. You’re nothing. So, go ahead, talk high and mighty but know that I’ll be pissing on your grave and fucking your wife after you die.”

  “What did you say?” Kyle barked.

  Feeling cocky, Barry leaned closer to Kyle and said, “I’ll be fucking your wife.”

  Kyle dropped his glass, and snatched Barry by the throat. He squeezed hard, pulled him close and said, “Say it again.”

  Barry choked and clawed at Kyle’s clenched hand.

  Not done threatening him, Kyle removed his Hoback knife and placed it on Barry’s tender cheek. “I should filet you open. Cut you like the fucking pig you are and tell your father the Generates got you. It would be so easy and know what, he’d believe me because he trusts me.”

  Barry’s face turned bright red and he tried to utter a word but couldn’t.

  Frustrated, Kyle pushed him away.

  Choking and coughing, Barry curled up on the floor. “I fucking hate you.”

  Kyle stood, picking up the bottle on his way up and took a long drink. “You’re nothing but a soft fat and lazy slug. You might have read every book ever written but you’ll never be a decent human being.” Kyle tipped the bottle upside down and poured the contents on Barry. When the bottle was empty, he smashed it against the wall and said, “If you ever say anything about my wife again, I will kill you.”

  COLLECTIVE PRIME

  Portia came to the executive mansion but this time she was led to a small parlor downstairs and told to wait. She sat pensively looking around at all the items hanging on the walls or sitting on the tables and shelves. The room was more a museum than a parlor. Everywhere she looked she saw what must have been priceless works of art and memorabilia from before The Reboot. Kyle wasn’t one to bring items like this back, but he told her some drivers did. Clearly, they all found a home here. In an adjacent room she could hear Number One talking.

  “Add an additional team to guard the wind and solar farms to the north and east and make sure they have roving patrols along the conduit. I don’t care where you have to pull them from, just do it. We can’t have anyone sabotaging our power generation. Before I let you go is it true our crop yield this harvest will be thirty-three percent higher? Glad to hear, that will make for a joyous harvest festival and get back to me on how the construction of the second brewery is going as well as the hop harvest. Thank you, bye.”

  She sat up and clasped her hands on her lap awaiting his entrance.

  “Portia, Portia, Portia,” Number One said walking into the room.

  She snapped her head to see him and Bravo One walking in. She jumped to her feet and said, “Number One, sir, if you let me explain.”

  He turned to Bravo One and said, “Could you give us some privacy?”

  Bravo One nodded and left but not before giving Portia a sour look.

  Portia noticed right away that Number One looked worse than he did yesterday. His skin seemed almost translucent and a light film of sweat clung to it. Again, he was wearing a turtleneck sweater. “If you’ll permit me to explain.”

  He walked and took a seat opposite her in a winged back chair. “Please, sit.”

  She did as he said.

  “I’m sure you’ve guessed that you’re here instead of jail because of me,” he said lightly patting his crossed leg.

  “Yes, I assumed.”

  “You have embarrassed me, I want you to know. Just yesterday I’m praising you as a model resident and today you’re acting like a wild woman and breaking all protocol.”

  “I’m sorry, I just freaked out. This little girl, she…” Portia paused to get her thoughts straight. “She means the world to me. I can’t have a child and she lost her mother so….”

  Interrupting her, he finished what he guessed was her thought. “So took on the motherly role for this child. I understand this quaint and nostalgic feeling but Portia, the children of The Collective don’t really have parents. Our family is bigger than that, it’s the community. In fact, I’ll be passing a law soon that will have all children given out to the best equipped residents of The Collective. Just because someone can produce a child doesn’t mean they’re the best suited to raise them. I have struggled with this for a very long time and was going to announce it yesterday but because of those three traitors I changed my mind. I’m planning on holding a gathering next week to announce this. Now this takes me to you. I’ve been watching you for some time. I think you could be a great overseer of a new infant, you hold all the qualities and your husband is a hero. This is primarily why I brought you forward. I wanted everyone to see this model resident then see you become the first resident to oversee the next newborn. It was a perfect plan, then today happened. You’ve put me in a difficult spot, you really have.”

  It took everything for her not to throw up. She knew his mannerisms and tone and it sounded as if he was about to declare her death sentence at any moment. His calm demeanor fooled many to think he wouldn’t do something barbaric but then would shock them with the opposite.

  “What should I do with you?” he asked.

  “I could wear the Cloth of Dishonor,” she offered reluctantly. This was a punishment meant for minor infractions where the guilty would wear black and emblazoned on the chest and back was a large letter D. The residents of The Collective could openly mock and ridicule them. The punishment lasted for thirty calendar days and had the desired effect of reforming those who had committed the crimes. If it was just her, she’d not be too concerned, but what it would do to Kyle is what she worried about. Seeing her humiliated on a daily basis could push him to a breaking point.

  “No, no, I couldn’t do that to Driver Eight’s wife. You see my dear, I have few options here. As the person responsible for enforcing the laws I should have you banished for what you did, but I fear the repercussions from the people would be too much. They love your husband, a lot. He’s become quite the celebrity here,” he said with a smile.

  “Then what?”

  “There is another way, it’s a bit, um, unorthodox.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I don’t want to embarrass or dishonor Kyle. I’d also like to know if this could remain quiet. I don’t want him to know. He works so hard, he sacrifices so much for…us all,” she said, catching herself before she said, me.

  “We might be able to make an arrangement.”

  Fearing he could do any number of horrible things she pressed him for what this unorthodox scheme was. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I’ll get back to you with that, but for now, just stay out of trouble,” he warned.

  “Why?”

  “Are you asking why I would treat you differently?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I find you to be special. I know it flies counter to the teachings that we’re all equal. But I sense something great in you, Portia,” he answered and stood. He walked over to her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “Now go, I’ll call for you when I’ve made up my mind.”

  “The girl? Is she gone? Banished?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Those are difficult decisions but they must be made. We can’t run the risk of having an outbreak. Do you remember fifteen years ago when that deadly virus ran through the town? I’m sure you do. We can’t risk that happening again.”

  “I understand,” she said half lying.

  “Now go,” he urged before stepping away and coughing loudly. The cough progressed to the point he needed to hold himself up.

  She went to him, “Are you okay?”

  He rebuffed her, “No, leave me. I have a bad chest cold. Leave. Now.”r />
  Bravo One opened the door and marched in, a small bag in her left hand. She gave Portia a hard stare and barked, “You heard him, leave!”

  Speechless she headed for the door.

  “Oh, Portia, one more thing,” he said wiping his mouth with a tissue. “Your husband, have you heard from him?”

  She stopped and replied, “No, I haven’t spoken to him.”

  “He radioed in. Said he was outside of Grand Junction. I thought he might have contacted you.”

  “No, he didn’t contact me,” she answered. Hearing Kyle was maybe a day and a half away filled her with joy. After everything that happened she wanted him home more than ever.

  “Do me a favor, if he contacts you, I recommend not mentioning the incident at the infirmary. Don’t stress him. And, please let me know too.”

  The request was odd. Why would he need to know if Kyle contacted her? She asked herself.

  “Have a good day, we’ll be in touch,” he said.

  CHAPTER 4

  OUTSIDE OF RANGLEY, COLORADO, COLLECTIVE PROTECTED ZONE

  After the incident with Barry, Kyle slept with one eye open. The story of being killed by Generates could be used for him just as easily if Barry saw fit to take him out. Prime was a little over a day’s drive away and he knew that time would seem like an eternity.

  Curious as to the conditions outside, Kyle peeled back the edge of the sheeting on the front bay windows and peered out to find a gray overcast day, but no signs of any storm. The ground was covered in a thin layer of snow giving the rolling hills a serene and majestic looked but Kyle knew it could be deceiving as there was a high probability the ground was littered with radioactive material.

  Barry emerged from the shadows behind him. In his hand he held a satellite phone.

  “Where did you get that?” Kyle asked thinking it ironic that just the other day Tommy had mentioned sat phones.

  “Do you have to ask? I’m the Number Two. Can I go outside? I need to make a call,” Barry said.

  “You saw me trying to radio and you didn’t say you had a phone?”