The Crash Box Set, page 23
part #1 of EMP Crash Series
“I'm glad you asked. In the old world we celebrated mediocrity, and I, for one, was tired of it. We had to pander to people and always think of those who might get upset. Instead of giving people first place we gave every participation trophies. Excellence was being bred out of us, creating a society of automatons who didn't know how to think or feel for themselves. You must have seen it, with the way everyone was so connected to their devices, as if they were life support machines. You had people texting and typing to each other instead of talking. Relationships became remotely communicating with someone rather than being with the actual person. Everything became easily had with one click of a button. There was no effort in life anymore, no struggle, and this was all designed so we wouldn't see what was happening right in front of our faces. The government was doing this so we wouldn't challenge them. It happened so surreptitiously that we didn't recognize it, but before we knew it we had lost our drive, and our ambition. We were ruled by the corporations, used as sacks of cash for them to live the high life, and we all were forgotten.
“I'm telling you, whoever caused this EMP did us a favor because it gave us a chance to awaken and open our eyes. We don't have to be slaves to the machine anymore. We can live as we were meant to, to be free, and we finally can start celebrating our achievements again. I want this place to be the new outpost of the new humanity. I want to have the best of the best, and begin a new race of people where we don't settle for being average or mediocre, where merely taking part isn't enough. I want everyone to try their best in everything, to seize each day as an opportunity to improve themselves, whether it's nourishing their souls or their mind or their bodies. I don't want us to be held back by those who sought to shackle us. I want us to take humanity to the next level. Think of the strides we could make if a new human race was built on these ideals. Nobody ever would settle for being less than the sum of their parts--”
“And what would happen if somebody didn't want to push themselves, or couldn't reach the heights expected of them? What if somebody was average?” Grace said, interrupting Mr. Smith's speech. He seemed shocked anyone would dare interrupt him before he finished saying his piece, and he blinked slowly at Grace before his mouth widened into a thin smile.
“There will be a place for everyone in this society, but only the few who excel will be exalted. The rest shall be there to serve and perform the menial tasks needed for society to function.”
Grace stared at him and, unlike Mack, she was unable to keep her anger in check. “You're talking about slavery, aren't you?! You talk about this as though it's some brand-new idea, but it's ancient. It's been done before. It didn't work then, and it's not going to work now. You're nothing more than a monster, and I'm not going to stand by and let you judge who is exalted is and who isn't. Who are you to judge that?” she said, and spat on her food.
She wasn't finished. She picked up her plate and smashed it on the floor, then picked up her glass of wine, from which she had not taken a sip, and threw it against the wall. The dark red liquid looked like blood as it slowly dripped down the wall of the hut. With a frenzied look in her eyes Grace dug through the food left on the table, feeling the juice of the meat soak against her fingers, and picked up a sharp fragment.
“I've a good mind to kill you right now,” she growled, pointing the weapon at Mr. Smith, who simply sighed and dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin once again. Seconds later three guards burst in and pointed guns at Grace.
“Don't worry, men. There's no cause for alarm here. This child simply was throwing a tantrum,” Mr. Smith began, which only caused Grace to get angrier.
“Please escort our guests back to their accommodations. Although I will be speaking more with Mack, so return for him later.”
“Are you sure you don't want one of us to stay?” the youngest of the guards asked.
“Thank you for your concern, but that will not be necessary. Mack is smarter than his young companions.” Mack had to watch as Grace, Luis, and Saul all were escorted roughly out of the hut, leaving him alone with Mr. Smith.
“She's a rather passionate young woman,” Mr. Smith said, continuing to eat as though nothing had happened.
Mack glanced down at the floor. He wondered how rare that wine was. There were people outside who would have killed for the food that now was resting on the floor, yet Mr. Smith treated it as though it was nothing.
“And she has a point,” Mack replied.
“What you're doing sounds eerily similar to, say, Hitler's idea of the Aryan super race, or Nietzsche's ideal of the ubermensch.”
“Their ideologies were borne from a hatred of humanity. I simply want to cultivate the best parts of it and bring those to the fore. This is an idea that has been around since the ancient Greeks. You quote Hitler and Nietzsche, I counter with Plato and the idea of the philosopher king, a man who was raised to be better than anyone else, who was well-educated and would lead by example. You talk about the ubermensch and I give you Superman, an alien who brought all the good elements of humanity together. The compassion, the sense of justice, and of truth.
“I only want to improve the human race, and there is a place for everyone. Your friend misinterpreted my words. Everyone can try improving themselves. I don't believe anyone is born with a limited potential. We all are masters of our own destiny. If we fight with everything we have we can excel at least in one thing, but if we are lazy and settle for being average that is when the human race suffers. That is the attitude that cannot be indulged.”
“And is that the kind of world you're trying to set up here?”
“Trying is the operative word there, Mack,” Mr. Smith said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
It was the first time he had shown Mack some sign of vulnerability, and Mack wouldn't have been surprised if this all was an act. But for the time being he would play along.
“I am somewhat limited with the resources at my disposal. Unfortunately, I have not come across too many people who would fit the idea of excellence. I have had to make compromises to keep this place running and build it up so I can welcome new people. I want you to be one of those people, Mack, and your friends, too, if they are willing to accept the new order of things.”
“And what of Saul?”
“Saul is free to make his own choice,” Mr. Smith said, sipping his wine. Mack wasn't sure how to take his answer.
“You can't blame me if I'm a little skeptical. After all, you have kept us prisoner.”
“A sign of the times we live in, I'm afraid. Your little group has proven to be quite resourceful and I wanted to make sure you weren't going to escape before I brought you here.”
“You know, it's kinda sad that somebody attacked our nation and managed to disrupt our way of life, and instead of Americans working together to find out who did it and to retaliate, we end up fighting among ourselves.”
“You're working under a false premise there, Mack. There is no America anymore. We're all out for ourselves, but we can build something better than America.”
“I refuse to believe that. I love this country, and I know it still beats in the hearts of the people.”
“Believe what you will, but it doesn't change the state of the world. You think of everyone as Americans, but you need to remember they're people first. They're not just going to change their nature overnight. There is a place for you here, Mack. I'd like you to be a part of this, and to lead by example.
“There's nothing else for you in this world, only the pain and suffering of being reminded of what used to be. Let go of your attachment to the world that has gone and embrace the new. Bend your knee to me and I will give you shelter, food, and a place to live. What's more, I will give you a purpose. We can create a legacy for ourselves, Mack. We can be the people who usher in a new era for humanity.”
Mack mimicked Mr. Smith by dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He gave the impression of a man who was considering the offer, but Mack was not going to change his mind. He was a patriot, and he was not about to let go of the world just yet, not when Anna was out there, not when there were still enemies of freedom.
“You speak well, Mr. Smith, but all you have are words. If you want to build a place, then you must start from the beginning. Right now, you're ruling by fear and intimidation. You're nothing more than a petty bully, and I hate bullies. Do you think you can steal, threaten, and cheat your way to paradise? It doesn't work like that. You believe in something, and I respect that, but that doesn't mean you can go around treating people the way you have been. So, if that's all, I think I'll be getting back to my friends.” Mack stood up. Mr. Smith leaned back in his chair and placed his hands in his lap.
“I'm very disappointed in you, Mack. I thought this was going to turn out very differently.” With that he called in the guard and Mack was taken away.
Chapter 12
When Mack returned to the tent he found Luis, Grace, and Saul sitting in silence. Saul had his back turned to the others, while Grace still was trembling with anger.
“What happened?” Luis asked when he saw Mack return. Mack waited for the guard to leave before he replied, and then told them all what Mr. Smith had said.
“He's a monster,” Grace said in a small voice.
“Yes, he is, but what set you off so much in there? Did you really think you were going to be able to kill him?” Mack asked.
“I don't know. It was just the way he was talking about people as if they were just things to measure excellence. He talked about freedom, but what he offered was anything but. It sounded more like everyone would be under pressure always to outdo each other. How could anyone actually have a friend in such a competitive world? I don't think I actually was going to kill him. I just...I just wanted to do something. I know we need to try playing it cool, but I've just been going so crazy here. I hated the way he just was sitting there with that stupid look on his face, like nothing mattered. I guess I just wanted him to be scared,” she said with an apologetic look on her face.
“I understand, but from now on we're going to have to be smart about this. We can't be making any rash decisions. If we're going to get out of here we're going to need a plan, and we're also going to need to trust each other. Saul, do you have something to say to us?” Mack folded his arms, his eyes falling upon Saul, who was sitting in the corner.
“I got nothing,” the big man replied.
“That's not good enough,” Mack said. Saul grunted. This time it was Luis who showed an outburst of anger.
“Really? You have nothing? After we saved your life? After we invited you to come along with us? After we saved your ass from being killed when you went against Mack's instructions to leave that guard alone? We're only in here because of you and now it turns out you've been lying this whole time! And you don't have anything to say? I knew we couldn't trust you from the moment we met you,” he said, but even that wasn't enough to inspire a reaction from Saul.
“Saul, talk to me. Why didn't you tell us the truth? Why didn't you tell us he was your brother?” Mack asked.
“Would you? You saw what he's like. Would you want to be associated with him?”
“No, but I'd be honest with the people who had helped me. So, what's his story? Was he always like this?”
Saul shook his head. “Not really, not to this extent anyway. He was always different, always had his head in a book or reading about some old emperor or king. He always was bullied at school. I had to watch out for him. He hated me, though, hated all of us. As soon as he could get out of the house he took his chance and I never saw him again, not until I got a letter from him saying he wanted to reconnect. So I came up here, along with that job I was telling you about, and I met him a few times. I barely recognized him at first. I was surprised to see he actually had friends, the same kind of people who used to bully him. I guess all his life he was looking for their acceptance. As it turned out he always had resented me, and he thought I was the reason he was unpopular.”
“Why would he think that?” Mack asked.
“Because I beat up the bullies for him. He thought if I just had left them alone they would have let him hang out with them. Then he got his wish, but there was always this undercurrent with him. I never got the feeling he ever truly was a part of that group; it was more like he had been hanging around for so long they started just tolerating him. Then this all happened and he changed. It was like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. He rallied the men and gave them orders at a time when they all were panicking. I went along with it because he was always smarter than me. So I figured if anyone knew how to make it through this thing, he would. Then he started talking this rhetoric of his and I put up with it, but it got worse and worse. The rest happened like I said it did. But if I had told you he was my brother you never would have trusted me.”
“Maybe so, but you should have given us the chance,” Mack said, and that was all he wanted to say on the matter because they had other things to worry about.
Even though Mack had refused Mr. Smith's offer to be a part of the community, they were still a drain on resources while they stayed there. So they were forced into labor to pay their way. It was that or die, as Mr. Smith wasn't about to let them leave. They were split up into different areas and sent to work every day with guards watching over them. Unlike when other groups were brought into camp, none of them were trusted with guard duty. Mr. Smith knew it would be too dangerous to allow them access to weapons. So they were forced into more menial tasks, such as gathering and chopping wood for the fire, building huts, and tending to the horses. Their roles here were similar to the tasks they had performed on Willie's farm, but with a much different focus. They weren't done voluntarily, and none of them felt as though they could relax.
As the days went by they all gazed longingly out toward the forest and envied the people who could come and go as they pleased. Yet, everywhere they looked, there were plenty of people with guns who looked all too ready to fire at the slightest provocation. Mack made it clear to the rest of them they had to keep their heads down and not draw any attention to themselves while they gathered information and formulated a plan. During their working hours, each of them made contact with other prisoners, and they all had their own story to tell.
However, Saul was the person who was treated the worst out of all of them. He was given solitary tasks and was made to walk all around camp so people could get a good look at him. He was famous, as he was one of the few people who had stood up to Mr. Smith, but now he was being displayed as an example. The people could see that even if someone was taken away from the camp to die it still was not a guarantee of relief. Mack could see it in the people's eyes as they saw Saul walking around camp; their hope was diminishing and it didn’t help that there hadn't been much left in the first place.
Mack’s task was tending to the horses, which involved cleaning up their waste, and he was sure he hadn't been given this job by accident. The man with no name continually came by to taunt Mack, and it was fortunate Mack was a master of self-control, or else he would have buried the man's face in the pile of crap. Mack worked alongside a man of similar age, although he looked much older than Mack after the rigors of working at the camp. Upon speaking to him Mack learned his name was Chris, and the first thing Mack asked was how long he had been in the camp.
“I don't even know anymore, but it feels like a lifetime. I was one of the first ones here. It was your friend Saul who asked me to join. Said that they were building a new settlement, one where people would be welcome and safe. Didn't sound too bad to me, not after I'd been trying to figure out just what had had happened. I'd been at home, sitting by myself, when suddenly the lights went out. Tried to change a fuse, but nothing was working and I knew something bad had happened. I didn't know the first thing about survival in this type of world, so I was glad when they came along, but now I think I'd rather take my chances out there.”
“Has Mr. Smith told you about his plans for the world?” Mack asked.
Chris snorted. “Oh yeah, he's told me everything. He barely can keep quiet about it. He's deluded, though. I think he sees something else, he must. We're treated no better than cattle here, and if he wants to build a world, then I don't want to live in it.”
“Have you tried to escape?”
“Not me personally, no, but others have. There's just no way. They have the guns. They have the vehicles. They always have eyes on everything. And when somebody does try to escape they do horrible things to the body.” As he said this he blanched and his eyes fell to the floor.
“Such as?” Mack pressed, and waited patiently for Chris to answer, which he did after some time.
“There was one man...I never knew his name. We didn't get acquainted. But he reminded me of you. He was taken to dinner as well. He was here with his family. He kept saying how he was going to escape, how this wasn't the life he wanted. He was warned not to try, but he wouldn't listen. One day he did try. He sneaked into the armory and grabbed a gun. Even managed to kill a couple of guards before they shot him in the arm.
“We all thought he was lucky to be alive but what happened next was far worse. They dragged him out in the middle of the day, in front of his wife and child, and tied a rope around each of his limbs. Then they put the rope around the necks of the horses. They made his family...made us all watch as they whipped the horses and made them run. They pulled him apart. It rained blood, and all the while Mr. Smith stood there watching, like he actually enjoyed it,” Chris said, his voice strained and the emotion plain on his face. He smoothed a hand across the horses' rump.
