Tipping the Scale

The cool, solid sensation is reassuring as it rests upon my breast bone. It’s weight mirrors the heavy burden that settled into my heart almost 2 years ago, the day everything changed. Now, every heart beat feels as if it is pumping lead into my veins, dragging me down deeper and deeper.

Eventually I will succumb to the weight of it all.

For now though, I half-consciously fiddle with the smooth lobes that round out the top of my pendant, a heart shaped locket that has not left it’s resting place tucked against my sternum since the overthrow. It is the only thing I have left from before. The only reminder that there is anything more to life than pure survival.

I have a decision to make, either way death is probably inevitable. But I am a survivor and I will hold on for as long as it takes, whatever it takes.

5 years ago a group of scientists had, what we all considered to be, a monumental breakthrough. They discovered a way to enhance the brains of non-human mammals, changing them in such a way that their brain function began to resemble a human being’s. The human world was in awe, we praised and applauded their work. Who of us could have foreseen the consequences?

I mean really, who could have known?

Who could have guessed that by affirming their work, it would encourage these scientific geniuses to develop different and easier ways to induce this genetic modification within the animal kingdom. They developed a way to pump the chemicals through air ventilation and exchange systems located within zoos, sanctuaries, testing labs, farms and anywhere else animals existed within the human landscape. It even proved effective when released into the atmosphere in a concentrated area for a few weeks at a time.

At first the changes witnessed seemed innocent and exciting. The animals kept for entertainment in zoos and parks were most visible to the general population, and they began to communicate much more effectively with the visiting humans and their human caretakers. Through gestures, facial expressions and even some attempts at forming words (most anatomically incapable of sounding out full sentences), animals in every facet of human society began to effectively communicate what it was they wanted.

And what did they want?

What does anyone kept in a cage for another’s entertainment want? Or an individual who is born just to be slaughtered for their flesh?

Freedom.

Freedom from captivity, Freedom from violence, freedom from us.

Most did not give them what they wanted. Humans have always been greedy creatures.

In our heart of hearts we always knew that was what they wanted anyways. This new revelation changed nothing. There was more money to be made.

We underestimated them, the human-like non-humans. Our species has always had a superiority complex, and it was our downfall.

Are you surprised?

Somehow we still thought we could control these beings, even after we had given them our brain. We forgot that it is the brain that makes the human being unique, the thing that gives us our edge and allows us to dominate. We don’t have super speed, we can’t fly or swing from trees. We cannot climb walls with ease, see in the dark, or effectively camouflage ourselves in an instant. We do not have the ability to sniff out our prey, or possess claws long and sharp enough to cleave a person open from top to tail. We puzzle, we create, we plan in advance.

And now, so do they.

They had the tactical advantage. Animals never receded from nature, they exist within it. Even our companion and “food” animals understood the natural world more fully than we did- and in nature if you are truly part of it, a universal language exists. They can understand each other even if they are not of the same species.

Together, all across the world, they hatched a plan. And then they put it into action.

They decided it was time for the human’s destructive, self-imposed reign to end. So on a dark, moonless night just less than two years ago, they came.

They entered our towns and cities and from there our homes. Using their own specialized genetically-endowed weapons they massacred the vast majority of us. Some of us were lucky, we had protectors. Animal friends and companions that cared enough to keep us alive, and were cunning and powerful enough to do so. It was also whispered that there were certain groups of humans that they did not touch. Groups and tribes who had maintained their link to nature and deeply honored her and her inhabitants.

A few months ago I lost my protector. She was a giant sow that previously resided on my small family farm in what used to be Alberta, Canada. When she was a baby she escaped her enclosure and found herself on the edge of the woods at night, surrounded by a group of hungry coyotes that often skulked around my family’s place. I happened to be outside that evening attempting to fix a faulty hinge on one of the barn doors when she unleashed a terrified squeal. I sprinted in her direction as I created the most obnoxious cacophony I possibly could. I found her trembling on the forest’s precipice, scared but alone. From then on we were inseparable. I convinced my family to keep her as a companion, and she went with me everywhere she possibly could. Even jaunting beside me into the nearest town on my errand runs. She grew up to be gigantic and powerful and possessed a bit of a temper when things didn’t go her way. After she was exposed to the neuro-enhancing drugs, she began to take a more refined approach when using her size, strength and temper to her advantage. She understood her power and what that meant for everyone else- if she wanted to she could almost effortlessly pluck your limp, lifeless body from out of a fast running river and carry you miles home or pulverize your body with little to no exertion. I’ve witnessed both, I was lucky enough to be on her good side. She died fighting for my life against the predator who has been stalking me since she lost.

Winter is well on its way here, my food sources are dwindling for this reason and another, someone is intentionally hastening the depletion of my resources; encouraging me to venture further from my safe zone- The area I have come to know like the back of my hand.

So, this is the decision I must make: Do I remain here in the small cavernous space I discovered within the rocky folds of the mountain I found myself dwelling on- Only venturing out to gather the sparse resources left that I need to survive? My only hope of survival relying on a desperate notion that an unaffected creature might venture into my realm, large enough that their body might nourish me through the long season.

Or do I attempt to make my way further into the mountains? My Protector had learned to listen before she died, though she and her ancestors were raised in man-made conditions outside of nature, her spirit remained deeply connected. It did not take her long to learn to hear the whispers dance through the leaves and branches of giant oaks and wispy willows or tap, creak and clap through the root systems of the forest. She told me before she died that there was talk of human civilization existing deep within the mountain range. She had a general idea of where they may be, and we had planned to set out together. It was on one of our last preparatory journeys out to gather supplies that we were ambushed by a gigantic humanoid Grizzly. It was a hard battle and though my friend did significant damage herself, it was too late. Before the end came she cried at me to run. There was nothing I could do, I had grown complacent and carried no weapons on me- so I ran. I never saw her again.

My head screams at me that it is too dangerous to make the trek. Many of the animals affected by the drug are still lusting for vengeance. A bear attack these days is more than just the eradication of a threat, it is revenge taken in the name of nature’s destruction. My heart tells me it is the only option. I may be safer from violence in the cave, but I will die of starvation by the end of the winter. At least by attempting to find the humans I will be actively seeking out survival. I will be doing something to ensure I make it out of this. Even if I don’t.

I know what my decision is before I even allow myself to admit it. I must make the journey, and I must do it now, or I will freeze to death on the pass. I have been preparing for this outcome, in the event that my courage fortifies, or simply that time no longer allows fear to dictate my actions. This is the moment I find myself in. Fight for survival or die doing nothing-I choose to fight.

I have a large pack that I scavenged from a town nestled into the edge of the mountains soon after the event. From that same town I brought back a large parka, winter boots and a small wardrobe. My pack is filled with dried fruits and nuts-my remaining stores, as well as a small sharp knife that I keep tucked away into the side pocket of my pack, within easy reach.

I step into the daylight, take in this place that I have made my home since the world changed, whisper a soft thank you into the busy quiet of the surrounding forest. And then I begin. One step at a time I make my way further up the mountain, acutely aware that I may be being followed by the giant that murdered my companion. I have journeyed up this mountain before, it takes half a day to reach the peak, but once you do you have no choice but to appreciate the beauty of this terrible world. It overlooks a jewel-blue glacial lake and there is an overhang that makes you feel like you could spread your wings and soar into the universe, winging away from this reality. To the left of the overhang is my path, but I cannot help but to take a moment to step onto it and spread my wings. Sometimes I think I might just do it. I don’t. I lower my arms and turn to make my way back towards the trail, and he is there, watching.

My leaden blood turns to ice in my veins, weighing me down even further. I will not escape this. He sees me freeze and lets out a wild, deafening roar. He runs furiously in my direction, there is nothing I can do but stand and accept my fate. My little knife would be as much of a defense as a mosquito bite, I don’t even attempt to reach for it. I close my eyes and wait for the end. I can feel the bear’s hot breath on my face and still it does not come. I open my eyes to see him towering over me, eyes locked on mine and filled with hate. Slowly one giant bear paw, studded with glistening, needle-sharp claws makes its way towards my throat- he’s enjoying this. He can smell my fear and he wallows in it. A single claw traces the skin of my throat and then with a single deft motion he finishes it, and bounds away.

I drop to my knees, hands clutching my heart. The locket is gone- The last vestige of my life before.

He removed my heart, and with it,

the weight of the world.