Every Little Thing is Going to be Alright

They said labor shortages caused the world to stop, but can anything like the fall of capitalism be that simple? The sun blazed overhead, baking the dirt path before her as she walked, her thoughts beating against her skull. She envied those who were born after the great fall because they didn't know any different. It was torture for people like her, people who still remembered another way. Getting food and water shouldn't be this difficult, it wasn't always this difficult, the thought stung. She remembered turning on a faucet and water just coming out. She'd never even realized what a miracle it was, to just turn a handle and water comes out. It was clean water that came out. There were no clean water sources anymore, no clean water and no fresh food. I'd sell my soul for a strawberry. She tried to remember the last time she'd had a strawberry. She couldn't recall; it was so long ago she wondered if she even really remembered what they tasted like. She remembered the sensation of biting it and the juice that would fill her mouth as she chewed, it was sweet – she remembered what sweet tasted like, at least she thought she did. She remembered what sweet felt like at least. She grasped at the edge of her memories trying to feel a strawberry.

"Ava, I need your head in the game." It was an urgent and severe whisper from her father as he came up behind her. "You put us all at risk with your daydreaming" his whispered reproach continued.

"I'm in it!" She whispered back. She knew to keep her voice low. They were taking a big risk cutting across Freedom Fighter's territory. It was the quickest route though. The Freedom Fighters had dammed off the largest water supplies. It was the safest place to take water without it being noticed. Stealing water in a world without government always meant possible death.

She watched her father move fluidly in front of her, his feet barely touched the ground in his self-made tire moccasins. He carried a homemade bow across his chest, handmade arrows sticking out from the pocket he'd sewn into his shirt. The yellow cotton stuck to him, darker down his spine and underarms where the fabric was saturated with his sweat. Perpetual summer was their reality now, water sources disappeared daily, and she couldn't remember a year without uncomfortable heat. She watched her father dance skillfully between the massive ruts across the path before them. He never slowed pace, the only advantage they had was the speed their small numbers allowed. His hand came up suddenly, raised to the square solidly, causing herself and the rest of the party to stop. He dropped to the ground pressing his cheek against the dry dirt.

"Horses" he whispered, "several, take cover!" He pointed to a large outcropping of rock on his right before a bend in the road. "Quickly!" he hissed, springing forward to lead the way.

She followed him as gracefully as she could being careful not to disturb the path before them. Leave no tracks, stir up as little dust as possible, always watch where you've been as much as where you're going, and never make a sound. She knew how to move in the world, they'd been existing without leaving a trace for years now. "They won't hunt what they don't know is here." That is what he'd always said to her. Freedom Fighters were the ultimate hunters. They'd promptly killed off all the game animals after they'd overthrown the government which sent the whole ecosystem into a spiral of implosion. If they found you, you had two options - hunt, or be hunted. Her father emptied the bag of excrement he always carried with him on the far side of their path, leading away from the rocks he'd indicated as their hiding spot. She and her younger brother ducked behind the largest of rock pillars just as she heard the first horseman approaching. Her father ducked in behind them, flattening himself on the rock floor to look over at the approaching hoard.

Their horses looked like gaunt ghosts of the animals they'd once been, rode ragged past the point of return for too long to remember any other way. Their ribs showed through the thin blankets used mostly for padding for the rider. Leather was too valuable to sit on, and most had been consumed after the great dust storm that had taken most of the crops. The beasts barely resembled the horses Ava remembered from her childhood. Their eyes bulged from the malnutrition, their skin sagged from the lack of adequate muscle tissue and their manes poked out weirdly from use. She'd seen riders discard handfuls of horsehair while being thrown from their mounts. She winced inwardly remembering the last raid they'd gone on.

"It's human," the front horseman said, he'd dismounted and was poking at the feces her father had hastily placed a few moments before. "A few days old, but a formidable opponent." He fingered the dirt beneath the mound of dung. Her father would have made sure to place it where something else had absorbed the sun's heat, removing leaves or brush of like size. This was a favorite tactic of his, and he often saved healthy poop they happen upon. It wouldn't smell like them; he'd made sure of that. It was meant to confuse their dogs and buy them time.

"It's not well hidden," remarked a particularly ugly fellow on foot.

"Could be a message from Ammon's camp" offered a yellow-toothed, grizzly-bearded buffoon in a badly broken straw hat. "Not many eat that well anymore" he continued, spitting impressively off to the side.

"Oh?" The front horsemen leered back at the group. "What's the message then?"

"Well, it's disrespect and that's all we needs to know" sneered the snaggle-toothed beard. The hoard roared in agreement – hungry to satiate their savage instincts.

"I think it's time to pay Ammon's Camp a visit" yelled the front horsemen! The hoard beat their chests in answer and the air reeked from their stirring. Almost as one, the hoard charged forward down the hill.

"Don't breathe," her father whispered in warning. Ava kept her mouth shut and stopped breathing, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about what was passing beneath her. The more she tried the more vivid the images came into her mind. The end of a Freedom Fighter hoard was the most grotesque. They drug their prisoners behind them – sometimes alive, and sometimes not. It didn't matter, imprisonment meant certain death, but always eventually – never quick. It would be more humane to put an arrow through their heads, but they couldn't risk being known. The only survival was invisibility. She felt her father's hand on the back of her head, it was comforting. "We move in 5" he whispered. One must exit as quickly as they entered, it was another of his survival rules.

Every water supply was heavily protected by armed men, often with actual guns – though ammunition was scarce. The hottest part of the day when the sun beat down brutally was the best option for approach. Neglectful guards would be neglectful, and the best guards would be unfocused. Ava watched her father, his body pressed to the earth, as he counted the guards below. He'd opted for an ariel descent. He would lower her down the far side of the water-filled quarry, the view blocked from most of the guards and if she moved swiftly there would be little time to catch her movement. She'd fill their empty bladders, tug on the rope and he'd pull her up as quickly as she'd gone down. They'd done it 1,000 times, but every time she'd get nervous.

"Just breathe, and keep moving" he counseled, sensing her hesitation as he tied the rope under her arms and across her chest, then looping it through each leg to make a harness. "The timing is perfect, just be quick!" He kissed her forehead as he pressed the empty bladders into her arms. She nodded and he quickly lowered her down the rock face wall.

The temperature dropped, and she tapped against the cool rock face assisting her descent expertly. She moved like a spider and was down at the water's edge in an instant. She glanced up to where the one guard she could see was. He hadn't moved, so she kept to the plan. She dropped to her knees and pinched the bladder open as she quickly filled it, closed it, and secured it in one move. Her heart raced and she tried to focus on the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears. As she filled the second bladder, she noticed something shiny caught in the mossy rock at the water's edge. She tried not to focus on it, distractions equal death she reminded herself. She couldn't ignore the glint just below the surface. She secured the second bladder and reached down to touch the silvery sliver. It was a chain, a small silver chain. She pulled it up and found a locket attached, a small heart with the initials "AJS" scrolled on the face. Her breath caught, Ava Jane Seymore, these were her initials. The weight of the locket felt familiar in her hand. She swallowed the dry bolus in her throat and prepared to open it. Her heart beat faster, suddenly she remembered standing in the same spot before.

Ava blinked, aware of the cool breeze against her skin and her hair tickling her shoulders as it moved free. She stared out over the water – the beautiful, blue, abundant water. Birds soared overhead and she saw people. There were people in the water, and people on the beach. There was a beach! She inhaled deeply and tasted the salty air, it felt crisp and clean. Am I dead she wondered? She stared back down at her hands seeing the locket lying open in them. There was a picture of her mother – she hadn't thought of her mother in so long.

"Ava!" Her mother's melodic voice rung out over the breeze. "Come on, we'll miss our train."

Ava turned to see her mother standing down the beach, her father and brother just behind already walking up the long path. Confused, she ran towards the apparition. She didn't even care if she was hallucinating, it was all so real. She ran into her mother's waiting arms and drank in every sensation. The smell of her linen dress, the warmth of her lips against her forehead, how soft she was in the middle, and how everything always felt alright in her presence. Her mother laughed into her hair.

"What's all this for silly?" Her mother kissed her again and pulled her tight. "You're acting like you've been away for years." Ava looked up into her face. She felt real, and nothing else mattered right then. "Come on, we really do need to go." She smiled down at her, Ava realized what a beauty her mother was – like rain after a drought and sun after a storm. Ava followed; the locket hung between her fingers as she walked up the beach out to the street. The news was on in the cantina as they passed. Ava looked up at the screen to see coverage of an angry mob storming the capital building in Washington. "Freedom Fighters take action" was scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Ava froze, yanking on her mother's hand. "What is it," her mother asked?

"We can't get on that train Momma" she cried!

"Ok Baby" her mother soothed. "It's ok, Baby." She hugged her tight and she knew everything would be ok.