Crematorium Seventeen

Sweat rolled down Desmond’s forehead as he began to reset cremation chamber four, preparing it for its task for the eighth time today. It was nothing more than one of six industrial furnaces converted to help rid the city of criminal elements. Desmond ran one of many Crematoriums set up in such a fashion, his facility was responsible for dealing with wall hoppers caught in his district. The soldiers that protected the cities borders rounded them up as they tried to exit or enter the city walls without clearance, and Desmond processed, then disposed of the remains after the soldiers were done with them.

Most were just people trying to illegally enter the city, some were opportunists trying to gather illegal scavenge from the bones of the world that once was, then there were the runners, ones who were willing to trade the safety of the New World Regime’s protection for the chance of a better life amongst the wastelands outside the city walls. These he sympathized with the most, had his wife and daughter not died during the great war he probably would make the attempt to get them out of the iron fist of the NWR as well.

He had been given his post after his return from the war, he had been injured in battle and was considered unfit to continue service with the military. Despite his growing contempt for his position, he had no motivation to strive for better without his family, although from time to time he did find himself thinking about setting out and finding himself a new life in the wastelands. When these thoughts popped into his head however, he reminded himself it was better to deal with the devil he knew the one that he didn’t. Quickly convincing himself to stay put.

It had been seven years since he had been outside the city walls, but often heard stories from the soldiers about the horrors that took place. The great war had left the world in ruins, everything on the east coast north of Virginia was gone, bombed into uninhabitable rubble by the NWR towards the end of the war. The west coast was even worse, having been nuked into oblivion in 2036 shortly after the beginning of the war when China, one of the few super powers not to join the NWR, made a nearly successful attempt at invasion, making anywhere west of Utah a death sentence to anyone who dared try to go there.

This is what led the NWR to consolidate their resources and form the capital that now spanned over ninety percent of what once was the state of Michigan, his district was the outskirts of what once was Detroit, leaving the rest of the world expendable in the regime’s eyes. It had been nearly a decade since Desmond had heard any word about any lands overseas, and as for the rest of North America the war had left things in a state of decay. Rumors often circulated about a free city in Jacksonville Florida, but with the constant surveillance people were under by the NWR many who spoke of this settlement ended up in a facility much like the one Desmond ran.

Frequently he found himself curious about the place, often times assuming many of the runners he had to dispose of were probably trying to make their way to it. If the rumors were true the place had nearly a million inhabitants, which paled in comparison to the over sixteen million inhabitants of the NWR’s city, however it was supposedly a free city. He found this hard to imagine with the tyrannical rule of the NWR on top of the constant stories he heard from soldiers ranging from raiders, cannibals, and blood cults who sacrificed people to ancient gods. It was hard to believe there was any sort of civilized place outside the walls of the city.

He couldn’t help but think about the place as he prepared yet another body for cremation chamber four, an older man caught sneaking back into the city with illegal salvage. He had already processed his belongings, which would be turned in for redistribution, and was moving him to the loading rack when the door swung open behind him causing him to jump. Two soldiers pushed a gurney in with yet another body to be disposed of.

“Gotcha another runner for the fire, took her down with one shot.” a young soldier name Brett boasted like a proud hunter who bagged a trophy kill, as he rolled the body into the corner.

“She was going out alone?” Desmond asked, doing his best to conceal his disgust. He always found it hard to stomach how proud the soldiers were of killing unarmed civilians.

“No,” the other soldier responded, he was an older soldier by the name of Marcus that Desmond new well. “She was making her way out with a group, but most were already over the wall by the time we spotted them. She was passing her daughter down when Brett bagged her.”

“And everyone else got away?” questioned Desmond.

“Wasn’t any since in wasting the ammo on them”, Marcus answered “Even if they make it past the southern watch towers, they’ll most likely die in the waste.”

“Yeah, you gotta point” he said while deep down hoping that Marcus was wrong. “Well, I guess let me sign for her so you guys can get back at it.”

Desmond signed the receiving paperwork, took his copy for processing, and bid the soldiers farewell. He was glad to be rid of them, regardless of his time with the military the presence of the soldiers always put him on edge. Once they were gone, he returned to his work of getting the older gentlemen loaded in for cremation, he was a larger man and Desmond felt his age as he moved him from the gurney to the loading rack. After having securing him inside and firing up the chamber he turned to his new arrival to begin her processing.

The woman couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, he thought as he removed the sheet that covered her and got a good look at her. Despite the numerous signs of the rough life all but the most important who lived in the city knew, he could see she was beautiful. For a moment she made him think of his wife, she too had been beautiful before the war took her away. After fighting back his emotions he began processing as he always did by checking her pockets for any belongings but found nothing more than a pack of matches, a ration ticket, and a drawing undoubtedly drawn by her daughter. He placed all but the latter in the bin for redistribution then began to remove her clothing, as he removed her blouse, he was surprised to see a silver necklace around her neck. Usually anything of value was taken by the soldiers before the bodies were brought in for processing, surely, they didn’t see this, or it would have never made it here.

He placed the clothing into the bin then came back to remove the necklace from her neck for closer examination. It was a beautifully designed heart shaped locket with the inscription, “My Life and Loves” engraved into the back of it. He opened it to find a photo of a young man, and a small girl no older than ten years old inside. His eyes played tricks on him momentarily as he looked at the little girl, all he could see was the face of his daughter. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about her for the first time in years, had it not been for the buzzer on chamber number five going off signaling that it’s burn cycle was complete he would have been lost in his emotions. He closed the locket and without even thinking about it put it in his pocket.

After a few seconds to regain his composer, he began resetting chamber five for the young lady laying on the gurney. Once the chamber was set, he wheeled the gurney to the loading rack then as delicately as he could, moved the young woman onto the rack. He brushed her hair from her face after setting her down, taking a moment to imagine who she really was, this woman who gave her life in an attempt to find a better life for her family. He quickly turned away as tears began to fill his eyes, he saw the drawing sitting across the room on the table where he had left it and went to retrieve it. He returned to the young woman lying on the rack and placed the drawing on her chest covering it with her hands before loading her into the chamber.

After firing up the chamber he grabbed the gurney she had been brought in on and began to roll it back towards the receiving bay. As he walked, he thought to himself about how brave the young woman must have been and hoped with everything inside of him that her family would make it to safety. He knew this was unlikely but couldn’t help but hope the woman’s sacrifice would not be in vain. At the end of the hall, he came to the door which led outside to the receiving bay pushing it open with the gurney and stepping out into the cool night air. He rolled the gurney into the corner with the rest then turned to look out over the city. His view was filled with a skyline of concrete as buildings stretched as far as he could see, here and there lights beamed from them like the eyes of giant motionless sentries looking down on the city with disgust at what it had become.

He caught himself struggling to focus as he went to return for another gurney, for the first time since he had taken this position, he was feeling ashamed of the choices he had made, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would no longer be able bring himself to do this job anymore. It was at this moment that he realized he had forgotten all about the locket he had been carrying with him. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it as he walked down the hall. It was at this moment he knew he must get out of the city; he wasn’t sure how he would do it, or if he would make it at all for that matter but he knew that he needed to go. He returned the locket to his pocket and thought to himself about what he would do once he was out of the city, who knows maybe he would track down the woman’s husband and daughter to learn what had happened to them. He hoped that he would, and if he did, he would learn about the woman he just put to rest. Until then though he would have to deal with the devil he knew, and hope that he was able to get out of the city soon. He walked by into the crematorium and looked around with sigh then got back to work.