The Soldier's Locket

The Soldier reached his right hand into his pocket and gave the locket a quick rub, just to make sure it was still there. It wasn’t unusual for a soldier to carry around a trinket or charm for good luck. If anyone else saw it, they’d assume it was just another heart-shaped locket, probably with a picture of a lover or mother on the inside. Even if they held it for a second, they wouldn’t notice anything strange about it. You’d have to really examine the locket to realize it wasn’t actually made of gold.

He stood tall and proud in the middle of the formation, right in the middle of a group of ten fellow soldiers. In the audience before them, hundreds of people stood cheering and clapping. Military officers, politicians, wealthy business titans and celebrities, all so proud of the brave young men on stage. Everyone in the audience looked healthy and well-fed, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, secure in their thoughts that the virus could never possibly get in here. They had all traveled here via their private aircraft or secured cars, and the building had been thoroughly cleaned. Behind them, banquet tables overflowed with fresh fruits and vegetables, warm, savory pastries and delightful, sugary confections, and even meat, real meat, beef and chicken and fish. Dozens of guards stood watch at the entrances, ensuring none of the hungry hordes outside were able to get in. In here, in this oasis, it was easy to forget how bad it was for everyone else.

Within the mass of people, he caught the eye of a man standing near the far-left wall. A short, older gentleman, with a slight belly and thick white hair and beard, he was a prominent hotel executive and a well-known funder of political campaigns. Only those closest to him knew how much he had lost, and how much anger he held inside. While not his building, his business had been one of the main contractors in setting up this ceremony, which gave him intimate knowledge of the event details. Now he stood in the audience, applauding and celebrating those who had fought to protect his money and his luxury, but the smile on his lips didn’t reach up to his eyes. Meeting the Soldier’s eyes, he gave a quick nod of his head, encouraging the Soldier. The Soldier scanned the audience for his other co-conspirators. A junior aide standing behind a cheering Senator, who’d made sure the Soldier’s unit was the one on stage. A server standing at the banquet table, who’d sabotaged the ventilation system. A fellow soldier standing guard at the main entrance, who’d made sure the locket got through security. They all knew what it meant for them to be here, and yet were all here anyways. Their courage gave the Soldier strength.

The cheering and screaming reached a crescendo as a tall, muscular man in an immaculate dress uniform adorned with medals walked onto stage, followed by a retinue of men and women in both similar uniforms and three-piece suits. The General, the man who had stepped up to provide order and justice during the collapse. He was hated by the people outside this building, but beloved by the people he had kept safe. Now here he was, ready to thank the soldiers who had put down the food riots. He smiled and waved at the audience, and then walked towards the line of soldiers standing smartly at attention. He reached out to the first man in line, the captain of the platoon, and shook his hand. He then started moving down the line of soldiers, thanking each one of them and shaking their hands, while his entourage followed behind him, eager to also thank the heroes, or at least be seen thanking them.

Most of the men in this platoon were proud of what they’d done, but for the Soldier with the locket, his thoughts were on his family. His brother, his sister-in-law, his sweet nephews, all of whom had survived the terrible virus, only to starve in resulting chaos while he had been away. His brother had been gunned down like a rabid animal, by a soldier just like him, simply for pleading for food. Meanwhile, as the world collapsed, all the food and clean water and electricity and medicine had been rationed off for the powerful and wealthy. The ones who were supposed to lead and protect those under them, but who in time of need had abandoned their people and hidden away in their bunkers and islands and guarded mansions. The very same people who stood in this hall and cheered. He hated the soldier who had killed his brother, even though he didn’t know him. He wondered, as he always did, how many hated him for all the innocent people he had killed. Well, he thought bitterly, they would soon receive their justice, even if they didn’t know it. But he also knew that everything he had done had been necessary to get him this point, on stage with the General.

As the General shook the hand of the man next to him, the soldier reached into his pocket and opened the locket. The hard steel exterior protected the fragile glass inside, and the red powder the glass contained. The soldier rubbed his index and middle fingers over the powder, then pulled his hand out of his pocket and stretched it out to the General. The General’s ungloved hand clasped his, and the soldier smiled, knowing that only an ounce of the powder would be sufficient for his purpose. The General moved on, and the soldier shook the hands of each of the men and women behind him, careful to make sure his fingers touched their skin.

As the General walked over to the podium to give his speech, the Soldier took a deep breath. It wouldn’t take long for the powder to work. He glanced around the hall again at his accomplices. They had all seen him shaking hands, they all knew there was no stopping what they had put in motion. The server by the banquet table was sneaking a bite of the roasted chicken. The Soldier chuckled a little to himself. No reason not to enjoy some of that delicious food.

The woman standing next to the General, a proper-looking woman in a gray pantsuit, suddenly leaned over and clutched at her chest. The cheers turned almost instantly into screams of horror. Chaos ensued as attendees rushed towards the exits, while doctors and some of the more dutiful officers pushed towards the stage, where the General and half of his staff had started collapsing, while the woman in the pantsuit had gone into a violent seizure. The guards, prepared for the people on the outside, were not ready for the people inside the building trying to escape. Some of them tried to maintain order and keep the attendees inside, others stepped aside to allow the panicked crowds to flee into the streets, while others still abandoned their posts and joined the retreat, knowing they too had now been exposed.

The Soldier, already onstage, was the first to reach the General, who was know lying on the floor. The General was breathing heavily, but still seemed lucid. If he got to treatment, he might even survive. The soldier ripped his white dress gloves off, knowing the cotton that had kept the powder off his skin would only protect him for so long. He knelt beside the General, appearing to anyone else as if he was trying to help his Commander-in-Chief. The General looked up at the Soldier and met his eyes, and the Soldier saw complacency in his eyes, knowing that someone was here to help him. The Soldier, for the first time that evening, let a smile show on his face as he stared back at the General as he whispered what he knew might be his final words.

“And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel. And Darkness, Decay, and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.”

At the words of the great poet, the look in the General’s eyes changed from bravery to, for the first time, fear. And the Soldier, feeling the pains begin to take hold in his chest, sat back and laughed, knowing that for the first time in a long time, rich and poor, strong and weak, full and hungry, they were all in this together.