Perfect Irony

A cracked echo of what the world used to be. Chaos reigns. Anarchy rages. If you manage to survive the rubble and savagery, you only have so long until the Delegates find you. An overpowering, totalitarian force cleansing its way through any remains of sanity. Any impurity or imperfection is eviscerated from the remains of Earth’s feeble surface. The few survivors are the strongest and the most valuable. They travel through the night, clinging on to the last scraps of humanity they have left. Fossil fuels were always temporary, but no one listened. Nothing was left, and society was starving and vulnerable to attack, that’s exactly what happened. God’s cruel hand smote down upon the people of Earth and left them with no way to get back up again. The Delegates only enforced the word of the divine tyrant, but there was no turning back now. Some try to save the remnants, but they’re barely worth saving anymore.

Gun drawn; Sergeant Daniel Porter pulls out the broken bit of mirror in his pocket to check around the corner. No sign of danger, only a deserted ghost town of a 7-11. Speaking could get you killed, so he gestures to his troupe to follow behind him. Service stations were generally a gold mine, yet far too dangerous a place to stay. The Delegates weren’t stupid. They knew where to find the leftovers. But Porter and his old police squad are all armed and trained in combat. Not easy pickings.

Moonlight is refracted through broken windows and a smoky haze laces the air with ash and dust. Porter and his men stalk across the road, at least two eyes facing every direction. Steel-toed boots and tactical vests are fine, but no amount of weaponry can sooth a hungry stomach. Porter slides open the door, jackpot. Linoleum isles to get lost in. The neon signs flicker as anything edible is shoved into backpacks. Some even crack a rare smile. Porter can’t relax though. A lifetime of strain and betrayal has his steely, blood-shot eyes always looking for danger. One of his men, Gabe, opens some beef jerky. The Sarge snaps his head around.

“Oi! We eat together. You eat that damn jerky when I say you can and not before, you hear me?” Porter’s gravelly voice booms through the echoey room.

“Sir you’re kidding right? It’s been two days since anyone has eaten. Look around you, who gives a flying fuck when we eat?” Gabe retorts. Porter breathes deeply and runs his calloused hand through his greying hair. A childhood on the streets and decades on the force has taught him how to deal with idiots. He whispers with a timbre so fierce and acute that the entire world halts for a moment.

“Now you better listen carefully because I won’t fucking repeat myself. When all turns to ruins, what do we have left? I’ll tell you… we have our humanity, and our values. When you toss those aside, tell me then, what are we trying to save? We eat together. We travel together. We are not a pack of individuals stumbling around lik-” and he’s cut off by a painful whine from the bathroom. A deathly silence falls, and Porter gives the sign. Eight highly trained men gather around the bathroom door in tactical formation. Glock 22s are drawn out and cocked. Porter puts his hand up and counts down from three. Three, two… one.

Porter snaps the lock and tears apart the rotting door. Eight torches home in on the last thing they expected to see. A girl, maybe five years old. A leftover. Dirty, matted blonde hair with tear-stained cheeks, she screams as loud as her husky, dehydrated throat will allow.

Ezra flies in to cover her mouth. His veiny, claw-like hand doesn’t allow a sound to escape. It may look cruel, but if you want to keep breathing, silence and stealth are vital. She kicks vehemently and scratches at Ezra’s withered arms, but he holds her still. There is no cruelty, not anymore, and you do what you need to survive.

“Sir, what do we do with her?” Ezra hisses through gritted teeth. The troupe look to their commanding officer, expecting a rational plan of attack. But he’s stunned. Porter stares down at the girl, mouth agape and wide eyes resembling that of hers. For the first time in his insensate life, he feels something akin to compassion. The sunken cheekbones of this unnamed girl have broken into Daniel Porter’s stony heart. He’s speechless.

“Sir? Are you okay?” Aaron asks, confused. Porter can do nothing but stammer.

“I… uh… I don’t know.” Porter stares deeply into the girl’s eyes, he’s touched. Porter has only ever lived in isolation. Isolation by choice. Many have tried to break through, but none could find the key that fits. None until now. Suddenly, it all becomes clear, and he has one purpose. She is his one purpose. The stammering and confusion fade away and he realises that he can’t leave this girl behind. Porter slowly lowers to one knee. They see eye to eye. His men are puzzled, and Ezra backs off. The screams cease, and their connection is palpable. Two lost souls, facing reality in solitude. They need each other. “Don’t worry, no one is going to hurt you.” Porter says. Eight cops are a daunting sight for a young girl. “They do what I tell them, so there’s nothing to worry about.” She relaxes slightly. Porter turns around and grabs his leather rucksack. He pulls out a strip of beef jerky and hands it to her. Her arms are barely more than a skeleton and she eats with ravenous vehemence.

“Sir, you’ve got to be kidding me, why the hell does she get to eat?” Gabe blurts out. The gravitas in Daniel Porter’s voice returns as he swiftly stands up and domineers over the poor bloke.

“Look at her you idiot. She’d barely last another six hours like this. She’s coming with us; we can’t leave her here.” A chorus of groans and exasperated sighs go through the group. “If anyone’s got a problem, they better damn well speak up or put a sock in it.” Porter snarls. The room is shocked into obedient silence. He turns and looks at the girl, “Do you have a name?” She shakes her head. “How about we call you E? That sound alright?” the corners of her mouth rise slowly, and she grins. It fits. Porter allows himself to smile as well. “E it is. Alright we better be heading off now, I’m going to carry you with me, that sound good?” Porter says. E nods, and with a swift swipe of his muscular arm, Porter hoists E to his shoulder. He addresses the room, “There’s good bushland just north of here. We’ll find a clearing and make camp for the next few days. Aaron, James, you guys are on water duty this week. There’s a stream not far off here so I want our stocks refilled ASAP. We’ve been here too long already, we move now. Clear?” There’s a chorus of mumbled agreement and grunts as they pick up backpacks ready to go. Except for one self-righteous jackass that decided now was his time to speak up.

“Sir, you’re joking right? You’re going to let this… kid leech off our supplies? What the hell is wrong with you, have you lost your damn mind?” Liam had kept quiet for weeks. A weedy, frail young man with a big mouth. Porter sighs and lowers E to her feet. The tension is electrifying as he saunters towards Liam. But like a whip, his arm flies around to crack Liam on the bridge of the nose. A broken nose was the easy way out. Porter lifts E back up and pulls Liam to his feet,

“Anyone else wanna speak up?” he shouts as he looks around the room, “Didn’t think so. Alright let’s move, we have no time to waste.” Having emptied the corridors, they leave the filthy, decrepit building with supplies... and purpose. The static buzz fades away as they trek deep into the Western Australian bushland. Hours pass until they find a gravelly clearing amongst the undergrowth with a canopy of trees overhead. They fashion make-shift tents from trees and leaves and get a fire burning. There’s no shortage of firewood, the wood is dead and dry. It sits and waits to be cremated.

As the sun rises, Porter and his men fall into deep sleep. The harsh sunlight keeps them warm as they rest, safe from the ever-watching eyes of the Delegates. God has eyes everywhere, so stealth and camouflage is the most important thing in moments of vulnerability. Porter lets Grayson take the first watch. A large bloke, but not too much going on up top. He was one of the most vocal about E. Feelings of unrest and disgruntlement are shared throughout the troupe as no one is happy about E. Some random child just stealing food and supplies, but because Porter likes her, she stays. But no one would question him. He’s respected through a healthy dose of fear. There are no regulations, so he can enforce his word however he wants. And he doesn’t spare feelings. Porter sleeps with one eye open, staring at the girl he couldn’t leave behind. The girl he’ll protect through anything. His own safety is no longer top priority. The sunlight slithers through breaks in the tent to dance upon E’s face. Asleep, she’s untroubled by the crumbling of society, and she dives into a magical, hypnotic world of wonder. This thought eases Daniel Porter, and he succumbs to the crashing waves of sleep.

He dreams. Daniel Porter dreams of a world in peace. He dreams of a world where he can live with E, as his daughter. A world where humanity lives in harmony. As he embraces this dream of Utopia, he hears a creak. He wakes. He spins over to check on E. She’s gone. He shouldn’t’ve slept. He leaps up from his bed of gum leaves and crashes outside. He stumbles around, gathering vision in the blinding light.

“Oi! Where is she!” Porter bellows to the rest of troupe before catching a glimpse of a silhouette sprinting into the bush. Porter takes off in pursuit. The grogginess dissipates as he makes out muffled screams. His legs are a blur as he dodges through Pine trees and Silky oaks. As he gains ground, he makes out a scrawny frame in the fractured light. Porter finally gets close enough and he leaps through the air and tackles the man to the ground. Porter rips skinny arms off E and pins the man down. Liam. The same egotistical prick who was most vocal about E in the first place. A broken jaw and a fractured rib are the first companions to his broken nose. E looks on in horror as Porter lays down blow after blow. He screams and punches with the severity of a battering ram. There’s barely anything left of Liam Jones when Porter’s arms can physically take no more. A disfigured concoction of a human body. Porter grabs E and hugs her tight. She can’t speak, and her eyes are glued to the corpse. Blood drips down Daniel Porter’s cheeks and stain into his shirt. But no deeper than the stain on his soul. His soul devoted to protecting this girl. He gazes deep into her eyes. For the first time, a tear slides down his face and falls to earth. He knows he can’t go back to his troupe. He can only survive with her… and her alone. His values become jaded and foggy, but his thoughts are clear as day. He runs. Till the end of time. With her in his arms, he knows that he is always safe. The best one can hope for anymore is humanity, and a purpose. That’s all Daniel Porter needs.