Fading Memories

Garrett Flynn, after surviving unfathomable odds and living a miraculous life for 87 years, was dying. As he lay in bed, covered by his tattered, sweat soaked flannel nightshirt, breathing noisily, he slowly gazed around the room, barely able to discern the figures surrounding him. The beeping of the monitors in the sterilized room were the only discernable sounds beyond his labored breathing. His disheveled appearance, dried split lips, whiskered face, and unwashed white hair contrasted sharply with the starched linen pillowcase and the antiseptic environment he was in at the military hospital.

He was one of the last survivors from the old generation, those who remembered what the world was like before the cataclysm. He would tell stories about what earth was like, for him as a young teen before the tragic events of that day, to anyone interested in the unusual events preceding the roiling and twisting of the planet. According to him, and from stories recounted by others who were lucky enough to survive, following the shifting of the earth on its axis, the sky appeared to roll like a scroll, people, animals, buildings, and mountains were violently shaken, trees were snapped like toothpicks, while parts of the earth opened, greedily swallowing those who were in the wrong place at the right time. Then afterwards, began the incessant barrage of miseries, beginning with hot cinders carried aloft by the howling wind, preceding a firestorm, followed closely by the sound likened to a thousand chariots thundering across the ground or hundreds of lions roaring in unison, as water, released from the confines of the oceans, raced across the face of the earth. Prior to the shaking, and shifting, there was a strange sight in the sky, like a fiery star, with wings, and the sound of singing heard which seemed to come from the sky above. As he lay there in the bed, his mind drifted to an earlier time.

A young Garrett stood near the peak of a hill in the countryside, trying to understand the fiery winged star, and the singing in the air he was witnessing, as his parents, blissfully unaware of the impending catastrophe, were laughing with each other, while laying out a blanket for an evening picnic. Afterwards the family planned to stretch out on the hillside, to watch an annual meteor shower. Garrett looked at his parents, as they finished preparations for the picnic, and started walking toward them. Suddenly, the earth began to shake, and a fissure opened in the hillside near his parents. Scrambling toward them, half on his knees, he saw first his father slide into the crevasse up to his hips, while his father unsuccessfully pushed upwards on Garretts mother, trying to free her from the opening abyss. As Garrett shakily reached the opening, he lay on his stomach, stretching forth his arms for his mother to grab onto. He saw her terrified look as she looked up to the sky, and saw her grasp at her neck, instead of reaching for his outstretched hands. She pulled down hard on the gold chain around her neck, breaking it, while grasping the heart-shaped locket she always wore. She threw it past Garrett onto the grass near his foot. As Garrett lunged toward his parents to try and reach them, the earth opened wider beneath them, swallowing them into its depths. In disbelief, and despair, Garrett wailed a primordial scream into the air, but his scream was muffled by the sounds of the ongoing chaos surrounding him. Looking to the sky, where his mother was staring, he saw the sky rolling past, in a drunken wobbly roll, as the earth shifted on its axis.

Not knowing where to go, or what to do, Garrett began instinctively to try to reach the summit of the hillside, near where he had been earlier. Near the top was a small outcropping of rock, that hung over a granite slab of stone. He made his way to this spot and broke down into tears. As he sat there, shaking from the earth tremors, and his own body trembling, he looked down at his shoes, and caught there, in the laces, was the chain, and heart shaped locket his mother had thrown before she was consumed by the abyss. He took the locket, and held onto it, sobbing himself to sleep.

The increasing wind woke Garrett first. It was a hot stinging breath of putrid air, filled with small embers drifting down through the sky, occasionally having enough energy left to create small patches of scorched grass. The sound of popping and cracking could be heard in the distance, as the embers created fires across the earth. Although Garrett could not see far from where he was, he knew enough that there was no way he could outrun a fire. Looking at some of the small fires slowly igniting from the embers, he took a piece of a burning stick, and began starting small fires in the grass upwind from the stone outcropping. He hoped there would be enough of a burnt perimeter between him and the approaching fire for it to jump his location. Either way, he was too exhausted and traumatized to care. As the evening turned to night, he could see the glow of the approaching fire in the sky above him.

Fire from the trees burning, popping and crackling, became louder, as anything combustible was being consumed by the firestorm. Garrett hunkered down, preparing himself for the fire that was fast approaching. Earlier, having to pee, he did something unthinkable. He stripped off his t-shirt that was under his sweatshirt and relieved himself on it. It stunk to high heaven, soaked with urine, but he was going to have to do something to protect himself from the smoke and fire that was coming. He left the shirt in a rolled-up ball, trying to prevent it from drying out. As the fire drew near to him, he pulled up the edge of his sweatshirt over his eyes, mouth, and nose, and covered that with the soaked shirt, hoping to prevent the smoke and hot air from searing his lungs. Opening his eyes slightly to see what was happening, all he could make out was an intense light from flames swirling around him, then as suddenly as the flames were upon him, they were gone. Slowly pulling the shirt from his face more fully, he peeked, prepared to cover his face in case of a flash of fire erupted again. The fire had passed, although now the wind had changed from a hot putrid wind to one that seemed to be cooler, and smoky scented. The earth was continuing to tremble with aftershocks, but nonetheless Garrett was able to drift into a partial sleep.

Sounds of thundering chariots or the roaring of lions was what he remembered most of the terrible ordeal he went through. Sure, the fire scared him immensely, the earth swallowing his parents was horrific, but nothing caused him to panic more, with the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, than the sound he was hearing now. He had no idea what it was, it sounded as if it was coming from everywhere at once, the ground vibrating because of it. Despite the tremors still reverberating across the globe, the thundering noise was growing louder, and closer. Hiding under the outcropping, in smoke and urine drenched clothing, Garrett waited. Water began to appear in small rivulets across the grass where he sat. Thinking of where this water might be coming from, he realized that since he was on a hilltop, the water must be rushing across the valley below, making the sounds he was hearing. Greedily scooping up the water in his hands, he began to sip it, straining the muck and sticks with his teeth as best he could, just taking in enough to wet his parched lips and tongue. The sounds he was hearing now made sense to him, if it was in fact water rushing across the valley below. If that was the case, and some of the water had reached him near the summit, there was no place for him to return to.

As Garrett’s memory flashed from the past to the present, he was suddenly aware of his surroundings, and lying in a military hospital bed. The figures around him were becoming more discernable now, as he realized the true nature of what was occurring. He could see he was hooked up to an I.V. dripping a fluid into his arm, while his other arm had a needle and tube drawing fluids out.

“Welcome back, Mr. Ambrose.” the attendant said.

“Wait, my name isn’t Garrett?” he asked incredulously.

“Mr. Ambrose, now don’t pretend you don’t know who you are and why you are here.” was the smug response.

He knew of course. He always knew. The government had been doing this to people for decades. They hooked you up to their sinister device, and ran simulations through your subconscious, tricking you into thinking you were someone else, in another place and time. The programs were designed to invoke fear, causing a spike in a person’s adrenaline. Drawing off the fluids and separating adrenochrome from the adrenaline for anti-aging products for the elite class had been going on for years, since the collapse of society and its laws. Now, there were just those in power, and those who were used for harvesting. Garrett, aka Mr. Ambrose was being harvested again.