Future in Heart

The colonization of Mars was supposed to advance the efforts of humankind. Instead, a plague of wrath infected Earth, decimating it. Society’s richest of the rich had always reigned supreme above the rest of us peasants. Even they didn’t see the turmoil they cast upon our planet in their insidious race to become the best.

As I gazed upon the barren land, once flourished with a sea of flowers, I can’t help but reminisce. I may not remember the bombings, but I remember the screams from my neighbors. I never understood how I managed to live and they died. It’s messed up that I’m being the one forced to tell this tale. Wouldn’t you hate to be the one talking about the aftermath of an apocalypse when your parents were the ones responsible?

We may not have been part of the affluent that set us on this path, but you know what they say: “Money can buy anything”; including one scientist and one mathematician that had a shared wealth of knowledge at their disposal. So much so that… well… they managed to draw up the foundations of our eventual doom. Thanks, mom and dad. Do I sound bitter?

While the two of you sat back on Mars and viewed the destruction you caused, I got left behind! Much appreciated that you left your only daughter on Earth with nothing but the clothes on my back and a heart-shaped locket that you both told me repeatedly to NEVER lose.

Naturally, I lost the damn thing. I didn’t know why you wanted me to protect it so much.

Until I found out what was in it.

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“Rosalie Sanders?” the guard had called out for me.

I responded with “Present” as if I was back in school.

School… simpler days, really. I feel bad knowing future generations won’t be as educated.

The guard was scrawny. He protected our poorly-gated community, but you could tell he was a refugee just like us. Come to think of it: unless you lived on Mars, everyone was a refugee at this point. Even what was left of the government here on Earth. They held no real power. It all came from Mars.

“What did you manage to collect today?” he asked.

“Not much. I found a lake with some fish, but I was unable to catch a lot of them. I can probably go back at some point.”

“Unnecessary. There’s been a development. Vincent wishes to speak with you.”

Vincent was our grand leader for the community of… 40 people? Give or take. He was a big man. I’m assuming he always was because for him to have a massive body in this day and age? That would involve him eating everything in sight.

I ignored my fellow community members as I walked over to his hut. I can’t say I was friends with them. I can’t even begin to write down half of their names or what they looked like. We all collectively did our part to keep us all going and then… that was it. The days kept repeating. Wake up, do some tasks, come back if needed, sleep, and repeat.

Vincent’s hut was the nicest out of everyone else’s. Most of us had to share space, but Vincent got to be alone. Perks of being a leader, I guess. When I entered, there was an unbearable stench every time. I think it was his natural odor. That’s something that most apocalypse stories leave out: no one is producing any more deodorant.

The odd part about that day… Vincent had a visitor. A man, who had no right to be dressed so well in a suit, was standing next to Vincent. For comparison: I was wearing the same raggedy blue jeans and a purple tank top that I did most days. Occasional handwashing here and there cleaned them, yet this guy was in a SUIT! That will always annoy me. There was no longer a need to be wearing a suit, you pompous pri-… I’ll stop writing now. Moving on.

His name was unimportant. It started with a ‘J’, so I’ll refer to him as ‘Jay’.

Vincent said to me, “Rosalie… This is Jay. Jay’s here because he worked with your parents. He’s been looking for you.”

At first, my mind was in a state of shock, but it turned to anger. If he was dressed that way, and he knew my parents, he was probably from Mars.

And I’ll always remember the first words he said to me: “Where’s the locket?”

He was straight to the point. His beautifully crafted face and stupid suit indicated that he didn’t belong here on Earth with the rest of us schmucks. We suffer, unbathed in disgusting clothes, damn near malnourished to the point where some of us are walking skeletons, and he’s here… looking like a piece of candy. Thinking back on it, I may have had a crush on him.

If you’re reading this, don’t get too attached. Jay dies. Spoiler alert.

“I don’t know. I lost it before the bombs went off.”

“Then your life is in danger.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Not here. Let’s go.”

I’m paraphrasing everything, of course. I think Vincent tried pitching in because he didn’t want me to leave the community, but there wasn’t much he could do except placing an order that prevented me from coming back. Then the guard would kill me. And that would suck. But that’s society now: partially primitive and barbaric if you had no money. Not much different before the bombings.

Jay led me out of the community and we crossed by the lake where I caught the fish. I wondered how Jay got to the community without being seen. Shame I never got to ask him.

As we walked further and further away, he asked questions about me: my age, what I did before the bombings, and when the last time I saw my parents was. I answered with 20, unemployed, and I hadn’t seen them since I was 12.

I asked a more important question: “Why did you say my life is in danger?”

His answer disturbed me: “You’re a loose end.”

He proceeded to tell me a story about how the residents of Mars – which, by the way, if you haven’t put two-and-two together, Jay did live on Mars – found out about my existence. Which was highly problematic.

The snobby rich populace inhabiting Mars supposedly executed my parents, yet Jay believed that wasn’t the case. They “killed” them to cover up their tracks that they bought them out to help create a literal nuclear interplanetary war. And in the locket, written in a secret numerical code on the pictures of my parents, was proof of all of this.

I thought that none of this would matter though. Anyone left on Earth already blamed those living on Mars for everything that happened. There had to be something more. I couldn’t remember where the locket went though.

The next thing I knew, we had been walking for so long, we entered what we back at the community called “The Dead Forest” and you’ll never guess why it was called that. Yup, it’s because it was literally dead trees. The environment was thoroughly destroyed by the bombs, and it’s a surprise more wasn’t lost.

I felt uneasy. Like someone or something was watching us from a distance.

I was right.

A thunderous sound pierced the air and then I saw Jay hit the ground. A hole the size of a baseball was now present, scorched in his back. Then I heard a humming noise coming from his carcass. Before I could react, a green light radiated out of Jay and hit me.

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When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in “The Dead Forest” or anywhere I had ever seen before. I was in some sort of room, with white walls and a light gray door. I’m telling this story a lot calmer than I was at the time, probably because I’ve been able to reflect on it, but believe me: the little girl dwelling inside was frightened beyond words.

The door opened and a woman with long blonde hair wearing a suit like Jay’s walked in. She had a pin attached to the jacket that read “Mars Exodus Project” which intrigued me.

She never gave me her name.

All she said was “Find the locket and return to Mars. The fate of both worlds depends on it.”

Then that green light again, out of her hand no less.

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Upon opening my eyes that time, I was somewhere new once again. Outside and it was bright from the sun. That didn’t matter though because I was surrounded by Earth’s government officials and about six or seven uniformed soldiers, all aiming their guns at me.

I heard a familiar voice tell the soldiers to put their guns down.

It was Jay. Complete with the hole in his chest.

I said that Jay dies, but I never said when.

“Rosalie. I don’t know what you were told on Mars. But you need to find the locket and bring it to me.”

“That’s an odd request for someone who should be dead.”

“Androids do not feel pain. I am only here to set things right. A civil war is going to break out on Mars, so we need that locket.”

How many times did I say I don’t remember where it went? Why can’t I just live my post-apocalyptic life in peace?