Aya

Power is an illusion, a form of currency necessarily developed to create order among people. It's instinctive. Originally, it was food and shelter. Then it evolved into goods and services. Eventually, it developed into money and that was a hit for a long time. Now, money is a memory, a cherished memory and we rely on those memories to keep us sane. In a world created by man after the world created by God was deconstructed, tangible memories retain that power. International Humanitarian Law was a good theory, and all were willing to abide until they weren't anymore. Life changed so quickly that no one knew what to do.

North Korea immunized its people before releasing biological warfare on the world. It was released into the air and called Aya. It means ‘ouch’ in Korean. A derogatory expression for the extent of the pain it caused. It killed our elderly, our children, our sick, injured and immunocompromised. It had adverse side effects on otherwise healthy people who lose their sight, went partially or completely brain dead and stopped responding to stimuli. Our government was lost, our elder doctors were killed and the funding to develop a cure was null and void. All we had were ourselves and the people we love. In a frightening circumstance of uncertainty and without leaders pulling the strings, everything fell apart. Without warning, life as we knew it didn't exist anymore.

My older sister, Jamie, and I had to loot our local shopping centre while my younger brother, Troy, and my father watched the house. My mother had broken her foot so she was affected and couldn't get out of bed. There wasn’t any medicine left by that point and she died that night. It was terrifying. What killed her was in the air we were breathing, and I lost the person I'd seek comfort from the most. Although I would kill to have her back, I am relieved to know that she doesn't have to experience the world as it is now.

Jamie and I fought with our neighbors for food and sanitary items, and eventually for foods like bottles of sauce and bags of sugar, anything that could contain sustenance. It was the first time I comprehended that this was a free for all situation and we would never return from this as a society or as individuals. To prioritize your family over that of other families is a desperate feeling I didn't know I was capable of.

That was so many years ago now, I would have been around 15 at the time. Although I don't know how old I am now, I think at least in my early twenties. I can see it in my face. Perhaps, it’s that every time I leave the house, I am fighting for survival and that's aging me. Never leave the house alone or without reason. We buried mum in the backyard, and we topped her grave with all the flower seeds we owned. I sit beside her grave every day, that’s where hear the familiar earache of a megaphone coming from the utility that drives past every day.

"Attention simple people. We have food, we have medicine, and we have what you really need. Be a man, challenge us and if you win, you can take all that you desire". They shout.

I wish they would mix it up a bit, I rehearse their lines in my head as they say it. The script of the selfish, obnoxious post-human abominations. A group of people who steal from homes, kill, kidnap and consume the people who get in the way. It’s a strategic means of reserving supplies for bartering and tempting people to approach them while remaining nourished. The leader is always in the tray of the white utility they drive around, Brad. He awaits a challenger while proudly dangling a pendant from his neck. From a distance, it looks like a large heart-shaped locket, but it’s a dehydrated piece of the liver torn from our prime minister after he died, sewed together with a piece of liver from the first man he ever killed. A testimony of indiscriminatory and unrelenting power and he tells his story to everyone willing to listen. The story progressed into absolving anyone who was able to kill him and collect it from him as they will have demonstrated superior power and would take his place. All who try, have failed. All who fail, get consumed.

If I held the power of that necklace, I wouldn't hold back giving all the supplies to anyone who needed it. Although we avoid this gang, training for a potential encounter gives me and Troy a sense of purpose. In a twisted kind of way, I'm grateful for it. Back in pre-Aya, my brother and I practiced Muay Thai in a club, for the past ten or so years, we spar on each other to warm up and cool down from strength training. We joke that we are strong enough to defeat Brad as we flex in the mirror but neither of us has the courage to respond to his daily summons.

Covered in bruises, we don’t go easy on each other to practice mental and physical endurance of pain during a real conflict. During a sparring session, we hear the front door open, and Jamie walks through the door crying. We run to her, and I grab her shoulders.

“What were you doing outside alone?!” I yell. I am furious. We could have lost her.

“I wasn’t alone!” She yells in my face, the most hysterical I’ve ever seen her.

“What?” I ask. She doesn’t respond and cries into her hands. I realise what she is failing to say. “Don’t fuck around! Where’s dad?” I push past her, and out the front door to find him. I see the infamous white utility with brad sitting in his tray. Before I even realise what is happening, my legs are running towards the utility with a speed I’ve never experienced before.

“Wait!” I yell. “I challenge you!” Brad hears me and slowly hits the rear glass of the cab twice and the car slows to a halt. My heart feels like it’s beating up my throat and I could vomit it at any moment.

“Where’s dad?” I ask as he jumps out onto the road heading towards me.

“You mean this guy?” He scoffs and looks at the curb down the street where dad was laying. They hit him. I start running to him, but Brad quickly sprints towards me slamming the back of my head with his fist. I hit the gravel hard and fast on my face. He jumps on top of me and looks at me with hungry eyes and without a second thought, I shove both of my thumbs as deep as I could into his eye sockets. He screams and pulls himself back holding his hands over his eyes. I stand up, balance myself and kick him as hard as I could in the side of the head. He drops to the ground, I quickly straddle him, “It's me or him” I whisper, and I reinsert my fingers into his eye sockets and stab as deep as I could. He grabs my wrists and I lean back and kick him in the face over and over until he stops moving. I look up at the utility and his men are watching me. I feel like I am going to pass out, so I fall to the ground beside Brad. I look at the body in front of me. I lift his head with one hand and drag his necklace off him. This is my chance.

I pull the knife out of his holster and cut open his abdomen. I separated his warm, wet organs with my hands. I don’t know what I’m looking for but I’m hoping I will recognise it when I see it. I have an image in my mind of what a liver looks like. “Ah” found it. I pulled out his liver and sliced off the end piece. I have one chance here. I stand up, show them the piece of liver walk towards the utility and climb in the back of the truck. This is my chance to get the supplies. Food for all my neighbors, and medicine to help dad. I didn't speak, worried my voice would tremble. With unbreaking eye contact, I gesture towards the body, and then the tray I’m standing in. His men jumped out of their trance and went to their former leader. Uncoordinatedly, they pick up a limb each and all drag his body to the back of the utility. I sit down and watch his bleeding dead body pile unnaturally into the tray with me. His head rolls towards me but his empty eyes couldn’t see me. They silently got in the car. What now?! Where’s my brother? There! I panic. I wave for him to join me.

“Come!” I mouth, but he shakes his head and rushes to dad's side. Dad, right. I need to get him medicine.

My heart is racing, I can hear them talking amongst themselves, dear god. I just need to hold onto my knife and do what I can to survive. After some time of disassociation, we arrive at the grocery superstore a ten-minute drive away from my home. I know this place well. We walk in and it’s fully stocked. I wonder how many people they killed to keep it safe.

I get out of the utility, and I walk into the supermarket. The men seem calm. I am exhausted and my legs are wobbling beneath me. Ready to collapse, I try to act fine and walk to the stationery aisle to find a needle and thread. Although this liver is not yet dehydrated, I must maintain this power. I sloppily stitch his liver to the bottom of the heart-shaped liver pendant, and it now resembles something like a morbid clover. I put it on.

“What do you want?” I hear from behind me. I whip around, it’s one of the men, the driver. He looks down at my pendant and back at me. “You killed my brother.” He spoke. I stayed silent. “They're cooking him." He says, twitching his head to the left. I now notice the light of the fire in my peripherals. I don’t break eye contact. He looks at the knife in my hand. “What are you going to do?” Although the plan was to give up the stock to the public, if I tell the men they will conspire against me.

“Nothing changes,” I said, and I wipe the blood drop I feel traveling down my stomach with the back of my hand and wipe it on my shorts. He joins the rest by the fire, sits on the floor, and keeps his head down. He accepts the handful of meat handed to him and shoves it in his mouth without constraint.

I walk to join the men. They hand me a plate with chunks of burnt meat, undoubtedly from the man I killed. They watch me as I take my first bite. I look at the man who handed me the meat and he smiled. It was welcoming, almost like we had been friends all our lives. Think about it, with these men by my side, I have nothing to fear. I can bring my family here and we can live without worry anymore. We can eat meat again, my sister will gain weight and be healthy, my dad will have the medicine he needs. Troy and I... we will fight for fun, not fear. Maybe, I won’t be so hasty about this. I didn’t think it through before. I’ll hold onto this for a while. I have the power now and I can’t be so whimsical about it. I won’t give away the supplies. It’s the only leverage I have.