The Last Journey

Dyanna Max stood quietly as they dragged the smooth-skinned woman away.

"No, no, you can’t do this!! Please, I don’t want to diiieee!!!" the woman screamed. But her appeals fell on deaf ears as four mammoth hands gripped her on either side and took her away, pulling her past the ACE Hardware shop and Blue Dairy Ice Cream Parlor to an alley just beyond. The screams continued, then a pop and they stopped abruptly.

Now the examining guard stood before Dyanna. She willed her breath not to quicken, for her eyes not to show her fear. He brusquely pulled her wrists towards him and stared closely as he sized up the extent of her infection. Then he ran a wet finger along her face. It took all of seven minutes before he finally stepped away. She held her breath expectedly. It was common knowledge that a person with only a few scabs still ran the risk of extermination. She was grateful that several more sores had appeared only a couple of days ago.

"OK, you’re cleared," he said finally. Dyanna sighed quietly in relief as he first stamped her forehead with the insignia of a half moon and then waved her out of line with the small Beretta in his hand, turning his attention to the soul behind her. She started on her way.

As she walked unimpeded along the street, she saw similar lines. Some people were being dragged away, terrified expressions on their faces as they begged for their lives, while others received their stamps and were subsequently waved on to freedom. The looks of the released mirrored her own, relief mixed with sorrow. She silently watched a guard stamp yet another one and was briefly reminded of a show she had seen a few years ago on FDA meat inspections. She remembered in particular how the meat inspector stopped the belt at random, picking up pieces to examine, giving a cursory glance to either sides. If the meat passed his quick scrutiny, it received a stamp of approval and was allowed to proceed down the conveyor belt. Those few that didn’t meet his personal standard were thrown to the floor, quickly discarded. The camera shot had slowly panned to the oozing pieces lying on the floor and in her mind now was the searing image of small rivelets of blood running together into one muddy puddle.

She shuddered and kept walking, shoving her scarred hands deep into the pockets of her short jacket to protect them from the bite of an unusually cold May morning. Turning down another street, she heard still more screams. This time from a man. Another piece of dead meat. For that’s what they all were now, even those who were allowed to live. Pieces of meat, barely human. She shuddered again and clamped down on the nagging grief and anguish. She couldn’t afford to indulge in such a waste of emotions. Grief couldn’t give her back what she had lost.

The sound of a semi-automatic pierced the air and the man’s screams stopped. She walked faster, following the path to nowhere, her body moving forward, while her mind moved back in time.

It had been January of this year, 2007, only four months ago, that the rampant virus had swept over nearly every country throughout the world, leaving only a few pockets of civilization undevastated. Approximately 97% of the world’s population had been overwhelmed by the disease, now simply referred to as "TD". TD hadn’t only taken a toll on their bodies, leaving them scabbed and crusting, with layers falling off daily. It had also brought with it havoc and heartache, destroyed lives, and an increasingly growing chasm between the affected and unaffected. Violence and destruction broke out in its wake, prompting a desperate world government to come up with some solution to restore order. A month ago, it did.