A meaningful decision - John Pallister (to read list .TXT) 📗

Drake sat in a battered worn chair surrounded by the vile stench of yesterday’s drunken desperation. His eyes were transfixed on the calendar which had held so many memories of a chaotic past. There wasn’t a purpose to his existence having to live through the social and economic collapse of the late 21 century. Families ripped apart, the senseless power struggle between all aspects of class, race, and social status had slowly destroyed the bonds of humanity. Distrust, paranoia was now worse after the expression of freedom had broken down an already corrupt system. Somehow he felt by breaking out of the chains he no longer understood his place or identity anymore and longed for the shackles to be put in place. Maybe institutionalism was the best system after all. A chaotic existence was in place now but the fact of the matter the human race was dying. It was always dying but now it was dying through a long drawn out process of separation. No structure, no law no rules. All he knew was it was best to be a drifter, bringing in other people was dangerous and the half formed gangs with basic structure were nothing more then scavengers. He had never been self centred but his strong sense of survival was achieved by his emotional withdrawal from any form of human relationship or compassion. He was alive and he was the best at doing so. Some had gone in the first wave of attacks not giving up on life but ending their lives because of the grim realisation of having to kill or steal from your closest friends in order to preserve your own life. Loyal groups who stayed together were slowed down and the perceived lucky survivors had to watch their loved ones being killed eventually. Those who bravely protected others were killed in vain knowing their sacrifice wouldn’t in the long term save those they died to protect.
How Drake longed for the touch of a female companion somebody he could cherish hold close and feel what was left of love through physical and emotion bonding.
He refocused his eyes reminding himself to stay sharp. His focus was pure survival everything else would have to be blocked out. The squat of his present location or home he had had to wait for several days was ironically ideal. Untrained desperate and scared groups of people had fought to the death over this hell hole. He knew that that a hell hole was best; God the human race was so materialistic even now. Many of the better slightly less damaged properties were like sieges from small unorganised civilian armies to hold onto these areas. At the end of the day it was futile and the modern civilisation of the 20 and 21 century had stripped the majority of people to be so dependant on a corrupt system, told what to wear, what to eat that the majority of the people now free had no opinion no idea or the ability to think on their own accord. There would probably be some power crazed deluded idiot somewhere trying to hold onto the very few banknotes that were scattered around. Paper notes were useless to survival.
Drake’s days started with uncertainties he figured if he accepted his fate that he would die then he was free from anger or fear to do anything and this illogical mind set had made the pointless seem relevant. Turning off his inner voice he moved towards the bedroom. A broken bed frame with a torn mattress supported his bruised and tired body perfectly as it was his mind that needed peace; his body had taken the steps to preserve life automatically his mind was still battling this concept. A noise woke Drake from a semi state of consciousness; he grabbed a plank of wood and shuffled slowly towards the door. The door rattled again but this time softer. Why on earth would anybody knock on the door calmly? He let his guard down and proceeded to the door.
“Whose there?” He cried.
There was no answer.
“Whose there, goddamit?”
“Does it matter who I am; you open the door and you’ll attack me regardless?” A woman’s voice said
“That’s not true?” He said
“Well open up then.”
“Why I don’t know who you are or what you want?” Drake replied.
“Suit yourself I’ll just be on my way.”
Drake opened the door and the pretty but determined woman pushed her way in.
“Now that wasn’t difficult was it?”
“Now look here lady I don’t know what the hell you want but you’re not welcome here.”
“I know but you let me in rather then allow to me leave so you must want some company.”
“What I want is irrelevant, you’ll slow me down you’ll be a hindrance. “
This woman was very intriguing maybe it was her irrationality but he couldn’t help starting to feel a strange attraction. He smiled at her but quickly dropping his smile into a forced scowl.
“So what do you do in this shit hole?” She laughed.
“It’s not a ‘shit hole’ it’s the best option for survival.”
“How do you work that out you have a weak wall, ripped carpets and you don’t even have any access to any of the amenities, where’s your water supply?”
“Got enough in the bath I filled it up with water when I got here”
“Why not go for the big water supplies?” she said.
“Cos every body thinks that, it will be guarded and it’ll be suicide to attempt it.”
“Yeah but wouldn’t you rather attempt it die trying.”
“Now look here I’ve survived this long by doing the opposite to the obvious.”
“By doing nothing?” She angrily shouted.
“By surviving and if it’s best to do nothing then I’ll survive.”
“Sounds demented to me.” She said.
“How have you survived this long then?” He reacted angrily.
“By just the doing the obvious and not giving into fear if I want water I just walk up to the pumps and take it, I figure if I get killed I get killed and you’ll be surprised that by walking through a group of people heavily armed how many actually shoot.”
“Yeah but at some point your luck will run out and eventually you’ll get killed.” He replied.
“Yeah and at some point you’ll crack with boredom by calculating each move and you’ll blow your own brains out eventually. I’ve seen people like you; the clever most tactical minded individuals who try to weigh things up so the odds are heavily in their favour get caught out by the pure chaotic actions of randomness or get to the point where they prefer to have the choice of choosing their own death, the only thing they’ve got total control over.”
“Well what do you suggest we do?”
“We make love.” She smiled.
“You what? What type of idea is that?”
“Admittedly you’re not the best looking bloke, but you’re a bloke nether the less and I guess from your excuse of your pointless existence you want some companionship too?”
“Now look here you senseless waste of space, I doubt you came here all the way here just to get your leg over, I don’t even like you, now go out that door or I’ll force you to leave.”
“What you going to do kill me, go ahead grab the plank and whack that plank over my waste of space immoral life. The way I look I at I’d rather choose the first option then the later.”
Even though this was against the reasoning for his own survival and maybe even against his own morality he did have desires even if this woman didn’t have the qualities to show him any love or compassion. So the night was filled with Drake and this strange woman holding each other close. In a strange way it made Drake feel alive and maybe that was what the point she was trying to portray. Feeling alive rather then just being alive. He awoke in the morning and found the letter it read
‘You were better then I thought, I don’t want you to look for me, know you, or for you to even care about me. You mean nothing to me, but if you ever see me again then you know I’m yours for the moment.’

Drake had decided to himself that he would head to the monastery. The monastery had kept it’s meaning of refuse but he doubted that it was safe and faithful. It was mainly the only organised group of survival. It had a terrible hierarchy but like he thought institution was the only way. Mankind wasn’t supposed to survive as one, the social creature they are or were. The door was guarded by two sentries, but if you were calm enough and abided by the rules of the self made leaders he would be able to get in.
He went through the intimidation of a full body search and a splashing down almost like prison. Ironically he would survive better in this monastery prison then with the disorganised separatists in the wild.
Drake was taken up the stairs to the main room. To his astonishment the strange woman was there with 5 people strapped to chairs.
Drake shouted.
“What are you doing?”
“I am judge and jury these men have been accused of stealing it’s my job to execute them to keep the peace.”
“You’re even madder then when I first met you.”
She opened a small room where a group of people were eagerly shouting her name.
“They worship me, Drake and you can be my king or a part of it.”
“What’s the matter with you people are you just deluded as this woman, where’s your compassion?”
“Judas, Judas.” They shouted at him.
“See I am a god in their eyes.” The woman shouted
“You can’t rule without compassion.” Drake shouted back
It was then Drake planned his action, apologising to the 5 men And God, he picked up the gun and fired a bullet in each mans head killing them all outright.
There was silence then the crowd shouted
“Murder, murder, murder, murder, murder.”
The shocked women looked at the crowd.
“What shall I do she asked the crowd”
“Blow his brains out.” was the answer.
Drake got down on his knees ready for his execution.
“Do it now, DO IT NOW” He shouted at her
“DO IT NOW, You worthless piece of shit.”

“Drake how can you do this, I told you not to find me, I love you I can’t do it.” The woman replied
“DO IT DO IT” shouted the crowd.
“I can’t” She whispered to Drake
“I can’t do it.”
Then suddenly it clicked to the woman what Drake was doing and why. He was setting an example for compassion.
The woman addressed the crowd.
“No man or woman deserves an execution but justice needs to be done.”
“Drake you are found guilty of 5 executions how do you plead.”
“Guilty, Drake said.”
The crowd shouted their guilty verdict back at him and the blow his brains out chant.
It was then the woman whispered sorry in Drakes ear and thanked him for showing the importance of compassion.
“The charge for murder is exile.”
The crowd looked momentary perplexed but shouted the woman’s name again and again.
“Sorry you can’t be my king” She whispered to Drake.

Drake was exiled from the monastery and as history told he survived to a good age where he had 3 children and the monastery over time became the new law and