Time and Again: A Collection of Crazy Chronology
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“This may be our last chance to do this,” said a man’s voice. “Now we must simply focus on survival – we cannot go on with this family tradition.”
“You’re right,” said another male voice. “It’s time to consider your family’s debt paid.”
I opened my eyes and looked around. I appeared to be in a cellar of some sort, lit by candles. I saw two men standing before me, dressed as beggars. They were holding hands.
“Information,” I said, too weary to speak more.
“I’m Steve Dummer,” said the man on the left. “And this is my husband Jeff.”
I blinked.
Didn’t see that coming.
He continued. “It’s May 8th, 2017. Late last year, when we had the coldest winter on record – that’s when the riots started. On TV, they were calling it the New Great Depression. Some call it the Uber-Depression. Others are calling it the end of life as we know it.”
Jeff took over. “It was utter mayhem in the streets. And all those rednecks with their illegal guns – oh, it was simply awful.” He clasped Steve’s hand tighter.
“Kinda wish I had a gun, now, to defend our home” interjected Steve.
“Yeah, well. Anyway,” continued Jeff, “It was getting pretty bad – no food in the stores, no gas for our cars, everyone out of work. And then it happened.”
“What? Tell me,” I said.
Steve spoke again. “The EMP. Oh, that stands for electro-magnetic pulse. It’s a kind of bomb. It was released over several parts of the country at once. Killed everything electronic. No more radio, cars, TV, internet, electrical power. People in hospitals died, everyone went nuts trying to fend for themselves. We’ve been knocked back to the Dark Ages.”
“Heh, you should feel right at home,” said Jeff.
“So,” I said, “you two are married? Perhaps the end is near, for surely the human race will become extinct without reproduction.”
“Um, no,” said Jeff. “You don’t understand.”
“I’m a doctor,” I said dismissively. “I know how babies are made. Tell me more about the world – you say society has suffered a complete break down?”
“Yes,” said Steve. “We’ve returned to horse and buggy days. People are starving. Crime is running rampant. It’s a matter of day to day survival now.”
“Survival?” I bellowed. “SURVIVAL? No, no, no. Not survival. DESTRUCTION! I do not want to see you people collecting scraps of food and killing each other and eating your children! I want to see the end! The very end!”
I buried my head in my hands and started to weep. Perhaps my quest would never be fulfilled. Was there no end to be seen?
“Look,” said Steve. “We revived you because we just can’t keep doing this anymore. Chances are, we’ll be too busy ‘eating children’ to worry about you and your stupid quest. So, you have two choices: you can remain awake and watch the world tear itself apart, or we can put you back under – but there won’t be anybody around to wake you up again. Your choice.”
I growled.
And made a decision.
“Place me back in suspension,” I said. “And hide up my body in a safe place, where I will not be damaged and will not be casually found. Leave clear instructions for revival upon my body. I release the Dummers from their oath. I will simply wait until I am found by someone who understands my need and can fulfill it.”