by IR Watteau
CHAPTER ONE
Jacob used the plastic trowel in his hand to make a small hole in the hay bale in front of him. Already, the tool was causing a callous to form between his thumb and index finger; but the discomfort went unnoticed. Life in the countryside, and the hardships it entailed, was a pleasure compared to the toil of the city. The city was overcrowded, violent, and corrupt. Last week marked an end to that uncertain existence when Jacob brought his very pregnant wife Emily and their chocolate Labrador Retriever Godiva to the outskirts of the urban brawl. The decision had reaped instant rewards. No longer was there suspicion, repression, or propaganda. That fog had lifted over these lands. For the first time, Jacob could stand in the open air and shout “I will do what I want, when I want!” and not a soul was in ear-shot to turn him over to the police for reckless sedition. Yes, for the first time in his life he was free; and that freedom was a medicine to his mind and body. The black tar he coughed up every morning was now a clear sputum. His skin was no longer an ashy gray but a warm, healthy pink. And the depression he had felt for years was finally sloughing off his soul. Indeed, life in the countryside was different, and Jacob was thankful for every minute of it.
In the opening he had made, Jacob dropped a genetically unmodified tomato seed. He then closed the gap and patted the moist hay bale appreciatively with his hand. With the task completed, Jacob turned his attention to the earth below. There were too many moles in the ground to plant a garden. With Godiva around, their population was in a steady state of decline; but until they were completely gone Jacob couldn’t risk losing any crops—hence, the hay bales. They were moistened and fertilized enough to provide ample nutrients for his fledgling vegetable garden.
Leaning down, Jacob retrieved the shovel he had stuck into the ground. A mole was stirring some dirt just a few feet away. Grabbing the tool like a spear, he lunged forward and brought the tip of the shovel hard into the dirt mound the mole had created. To his surprise, he hit something hard. It brought his shovel to an abrupt halt. Instead of moist earth, there was a hard metallic sensation. Jacob's brow wrinkled with interest. Pulling back the shovel, he knelt down and pressed his fingers deep into the loose dirt. He felt something smooth and solid waiting for him there.
Brushing back his long brown hair with his forearm, which hung in a mess around his head, and whose tangles refused to conform to any sort of style, he returned his hands to the dirt and started pulling away at the soil. It didn’t take Jacob long to remove the top layer. Moments later, he pulled a thick square object free from the earth. It was a metal box. But it wasn’t just any metal box; for it was made of a polished, reflective material Jacob hadn’t seen in years. Studying it intently with his youthful green eyes, he couldn't help but grin when he saw his reflection.
Jacob hadn't seen his reflection in a long time. Items that promoted vanity were strictly prohibited. The reasoning was: people were viruses that could not live in harmony with the other inhabitants of Gaia, so people should be made to be more like animals. Animals did not wear makeup or stare selfishly into mirrors. Thus, the people of the city, in order to save the Earth and humanity from its parasitic nature, will be made to be more like the natural world until such a time as people are able act independently in harmony with Gaia.
Jacob hadn't seen his reflection in a long time. Items that promoted vanity were strictly prohibited. The reasoning was: people were viruses that could not live in harmony with the other inhabitants of Gaia, so people should be made to be more like animals. Animals did not wear makeup or stare selfishly into mirrors. Thus, the people of the city, in order to save the Earth and humanity from its parasitic nature, will be made to be more like the natural world until such a time as people are able act independently in harmony with Gaia.
After taking a minute to stare at the contures of his face, Jacob undid the clasp at the front of the box. The top opened with a hiss. Jacob’s unprepared eyes were struck with disbelief when he saw what awaited him inside the box. It was a handgun. Jacob carefully reached into the container and removed the weapon. Its hefty weight surprised him. So he bounced it a few times in his hand. The gun even had a scope on the top of the barrel. Jacob marveled at the device for several minutes before a voice behind him caught his attention.
“Jake,” he heard his wife say, her voice was cautious... alert.
Emily stood at the entryway to their shack. She wore a gray dress the city had provided. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail.
When Jacob turned to meet her gaze, he noticed she wasn’t looking at him. Rather, she was staring down their driveway to the dirt road that ran alongside their house. A man was approaching on horseback. It was a sentry from the city. The sentry’s job was to inspect the citizens of the city and the countryside. Jacob knew one would eventually come their way; he just hadn’t expected it would be this soon.
Sighing with frustration, Jacob stuffed the handgun into the back of his pants. As the sentry approached, he stepped forward and positioned himself between the horseman and the metal box. The sentry advanced down the driveway in a casual trot before coming to a halt in front of Jacob. When he met Jacob’s uneasy gaze, he smiled amusedly to himself. His eyes then swept toward Jacob’s wife, and a new look filled his eyes—a pleased look.
“You the new inhabitants of this lot?” the sentry queried.
Jacob silently nodded his head.
The sentry returned his attention to Jacob. He shifted haughtily in his saddle.
“Here’s how this works,” he spoke. “I am now your god. Whatever I report back to the city is truth. If I say you’re being seditious, then you’re being seditious. You lose… everything. If I say I want some of your crop, then you give me some of your crop. And, if I say…”
The sentry leaned forward in his seat.
“…that I want your wife, then I get your wife. Otherwise, I take my nightstick here and I beat you to within an inch of your life; because if I say it was an act of self-defense, then it was an act of self-defense. Do you understand how this works?”
Again, Jacob quietly nodded his head.
“Good,” said the sentry. “Now, how about daughters? Do you have any daughters?”
Jacob felt his stomach turn, for he could see where this was going. The man before him was a compassionless devil. Jacob had heard of men like him before, but he had never crossed paths with one. How long had such a person taken advantage of the people of the countryside? How long would he harass Jacob and his growing family? Surely, if Jacob gave him what he wanted this one time he would undoubtedly return for more, and more, and more… until there was nothing left to take.
Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Adrenaline surged into his bloodstream, turning it to ice. And yet, with the untested handgun resting in the back of his workpants, he felt no fear. There was only fight or flight, and Jacob wanted to fight. He wanted to destroy this evil thing in front of him.
