Steps Toward Civilization Part Two

The Second part of my novella is officially up. Things are gonna start getting kinda weird. Enjoy!


Chapter Eleven: Your Left Foot

The General was thinking. He wasn’t always such a hasty man. The last two deaths that occurred during meetings weren’t premeditated; he’d made the decision on the fly. The disposals were getting sloppier and the men were growing impatient. He had to do something. He hated it, frankly. He desperately needed more time to prepare the next big step. But he needed to keep the men interested, or he would lose them to internal problems. He was troubled enough to walk out of the small back room and into the crowd of mingling new members. A bright-eyed new recruit was standing near the entrance; he looked familiar, when he remembered. He addressed him, and apologized for what had happened several days earlier. It wasn’t long before The General had worked out exactly what to do with his new members, and the restless ones. He had a new PFC by the end of the night. And that Arthur kid was one hell of a shot.

Things were working splendidly. The General, in a fit of ideological brilliance had written out his plan. He stared at it. He had looked over his options and reviewed again and again. What he was doing now seemed to work the best for his final plan. His right hand man was jealous of the new Lieutenant. It would get better soon. He wasn’t about to kill everyone that was uncomfortable about the newest officer in the Faction. After all, shooting everyone that disliked Arthur was like shooting your left foot. He would need the Faction, everyone of them. And Arthur was most important of all. He opened the door following Arthur’s induction and was surprised to see about half a dozen members, some of them weathered veterans, standing, waiting to speak with him.

“We want to hold a conference, to ask questions with out getting our heads blown off,” and your left foot starts to itch.

“Yeah, we want in on what kind of progress we’re making,” and your left foot starts to twitch.

The General sat them down, and placed his gun a good three feet from him on the table.

“There you go. No shooting. What’s wrong?”

“We want to know when we strike next…” one of the younger members said. The General was surprised at how young he was. His whiskers had not even started in yet. And your left foot starts to ache.

“I haven’t even decided yet, truthfully. As of right now we are awaiting the completion of several crucial missions within the intellectual department.” He stayed calm and cool.

“Well that’s all well and good, but what about this Arthur kid? How come he’s so much better than any of us?” and your left foot starts to burn.

“His particular set of skills fits him into the plans we already have set. And I find it inappropriate to speak of him while he isn’t around. For that matter, I believe that his ascension will bring the Faction to a new level. Our progress will skyrocket with the addition of some new blood into the officer’s ranks.” He was staring one right in the eye now, trying to make him cringe.

They seemed quelled enough. They got up to leave and he led them out of the small basement room. He picked up his gun as they left; after all it was in reach to kill them all if he’d had to.

And your left foot doesn’t realize that all that’s changed is the shoe.


Chapter Twelve: Vivid

It was the most vivid dream he had ever had. He was sitting in the classroom, facing the board, and he was up there, teaching for some reason. He could barely tell it was him; a drab black hood covered up most of his eyes and face. But he could tell.

All of a sudden, chaos broke out in the room. An explosion sounded from the back corner of the room, and a slew of horrible black birds flew in through the hole. They clawed and bit at his face, scratching his eyes; his head started to bleed.

He got up and ran out of the room. Flocks of sheep were sitting in the halls, chewing on papers and grazing about. Each one looked normal, but for a bullet hole between each pair of eyes. He was frightened again and ran towards the exit.

He must have mistaken the doors, because he was in the gymnasium, and he swore he saw a giant projection of Hitler giving a speech splattered against the wall. He needed to find someplace, anyplace normal.

He ran back to the classroom, but the hallway ahead of him seemed to stretch into eternity and the damned sheep kept stepping on his toes and crying out when he stepped on theirs. There was now an inch or two of blood pooled on the sagging floor, because the blood from the sheep’s heads poured out so.

He slipped on the ground and the blood splashed up around him. The droplets dropped not, they stayed suspended in the air. He pushed on with his finger and it popped like a bubble. Red now covered his face; it tasted like aluminum foil. He jumped up and turned the knob on the door. It shocked him and he withdrew his hands. He looked into the window, but the blood drops had all exploded now and blocked his view. Very softly, he could hear:

“She’s not a girl who misses much;
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo;
Oh Yeah…”

He struggled with the door again, pulling on the handle as hard as he could. It shocked again, but he kept his grasp.

“I need a fix cause I’m goin’ down;
Down to the bits that I left uptown;
I need a fix cause I’m goin’ down…”

The door burst open. He was still standing in the room with his hood on, writing on the board. He stopped suddenly and dropped the chalk to the floor, without even glancing at the door to see him.


“When I hold you in my arms;
And feel my finger on your trigger;
I know nobody can do me no harm…”

He couldn’t take it any more. He walked up behind the hooded man and shook him. He shook him and yelled.

“Is this you? Is all of this your fault? Answer me!” He shook and shook until the hood fell back. But Mr. N didn’t see his obviously disturbed student, the back of Arthur’s head was not revealed. The melting face of an old lady screamed into his face, and he could smell the death on her teeth. It was so awful and so frightening, but he couldn’t look away…

“Well don’t ya know that happiness is a warm gun, momma?”

It was just too vivid.


Chapter Thirteen: Do you…?

Arthur hadn’t eaten anything for a few days, as he had been hard-pressed to muster up an appetite. His parents weren’t concerned, they assumed that when he snuck out at night he was visiting some friends and, hopefully, eating. In actuality, he had been attending Faction meetings daily; since the “next step” was achieved the frequency had increased. He was just as pleased with the progress as anyone else, but the lack of food was starting to get to him. So was the lack of sleep. As an officer, the meetings began to creep earlier and earlier, into daylight hours often. He was, to be frank, cranky.

“Hey, Arthur!” she said with that bubbly, soft-spoken voice, “Did you have any fun last night? Wild parties, dancing, internet porn…”

“What?”

“I’m trying to wake you up! Geez, you’ve been like a zombie for months. I’m starting to think you’re taking drugs or something.”

“…”

“Well, I was going to see what you were doing this weekend…”

“…why?”

“I’ve been thinking. We’ve been friends since Middle School, always talking or joking, but I…I dunno, maybe I’m just being stupid.”

“No…what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I thought we could catch a movie at the Revival theater, steal a few beers from my parents stash, just have some illegal fun.”

“Only if you promise to put out.”

“What!?”

“Aren’t we still joking?”

She actually laughed. Arthur was pleasantly surprised.

* * *

Arthur walked to her place. As mentioned before, everything in town was too close to bother with owning a car. They walked silently, at first, until she started up.

“So, what have you been doing? You haven’t even been online at night, I never get any texts back from you, you know? What’s more important than me?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was a high ranking member of a radical group of revolutionists set on changing the way the world works?”

She laughed again. It made Arthur smile to tell the truth but still get away with it. They got to the theater to see that it was closed for the evening to observe solidarity for the death of one of the ushers at the hands of a mugger.

“Aww…that’s awful sweet…if someone died at school they wouldn’t close up for five minutes. They’d just throw newspapers over us.”

“You see, this is exactly what my group is trying to stop.”

“That really cracks me up, you know that?”

“Well, that’s why I keep saying it.”

“Soooo…what now? No movie, no nothing?”

“We could do something else, maybe see a new movie?”

“We could go back to my place, those drinks are still waiting for us.”

“Your parents aren’t there? Cuz if they are I wanna live at your house.”

“They’re in Tallahassee. My great uncle died, they took my grandma to the funeral.”

“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s okay, he smelled like canned fish and hair gel. I didn’t get along with him very well.”

Her house was about eight blocks from the old theater. They talked the whole way, like old times. Arthur even laughed once or twice. The suburban fiberglass door swung open to a light filled room.

“You always waste energy when your parents leave town?”

“I’ll have you know, I leave the lights on when I go places. It makes it look like people are still present, so no one tries to rob the place. Ha.”

“How about those drinks?”

“How about something else?”

She kissed him. It was odd at first, they both had their eyes open, and Arthur was a bit bewildered. It showed on his face, and she pulled away.

“Okay, uhm, you can keep making that face, or we can continue this little interlude, huh?”

Arthur grabbed her face and closed his eyes as he kissed her tenderly.

“Arthur…” she said as he pulled away, “do you love me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell me, please, tell me that you love me.”

“I love you…Gwen.”


Chapter 14: True Love

Arthur was in ecstasy. It wasn’t the same, but it was the same feeling. The ends were of the means, but different means. He loved it, as much as he had loved the other. He was in ecstasy, but he had done none.

She laid in his arms now. He held her close, closer than ever. It felt the same, but it wasn’t the same. He told her he loved her. He did, didn’t he?

He did, he must have, or else it wouldn’t have felt like that. Not the same or not so close to the same. Was it the same?

She moved in closer, if it was possible, and a sigh escaped her sleeping mouth. Arthur replied pointlessly with a shallow grunt. He had to have been. Or else, what would it have felt like? Not like that, certainly not. It would have felt like driving a nice car or reading a good book. It wouldn’t have felt like that.

She turned in her restless resting and wrapped her skinny arms around his torso. She snuggled her head in the crook between his head and right shoulder. It would have been like a rollercoaster ride, not like that. It would have been like eating his favorite dessert. Not. Like. That.

Arthur stroked her uncovered back and hugged her close again. He was positive that he loved her. He had said it. Now he was almost sure he had felt it. Because it felt so much like that. So much. So much he felt like crying. That was weird. He was crying a lot lately. His parents had seen a second display after he had returned home at four in the morning. They suggested he visit the school counselor. He made no appointments. And now he was there. She was there too. They were both there, she was sleeping, he held her so close and wanted to cry and smile at the same time. It was so much like that, it hurt, and it made him feel even more like crying.

She opened her eyes once, blinked, and glanced into is eyes. She sighed again, and fell asleep again. He was in love, he thought. It was so much like that, it must have been that. The question in the back of his mind was a constant pinprick, however.

Did he love killing as much as he loved Gwen, or had he just claimed another victim in his eyes?


Chapter Fifteen: Nameless

To everyone that passed by the liquor store that was not all that far from the ice cream parlor and the drugstore, Roger Templeton was a man without identity. Roger had moved into town with his family five years previous, and they settled down nicely. He had two daughters and a beautiful wife. One day, Roger came home and his children were in the bathtub, drowned. His wife was close by, red dripping down her wrists and into the water filled tub. He left for work the day after the funeral and stopped by the liquor store. He bought a bottle of expensive rum, then went next door and bought a whole bottle of cold medicine. He finished them that day, but they didn’t kill him, they just raised his tolerances. He’s been sitting in the alley trying to drink himself to death ever since, and all of his IRA, and Life Insurance, and savings, and investments went into booze and pills. Now he lives in a box and talks like a crazy old fuck. That’s just what happens to people.

He was sitting there that night, babbling away to nobody when he saw the strangest thing he’d seen in years. A young man, couldn’t have been more than 18 or so, was walking down the street toward him. He was holding something in his hand, but other than that, he was naked as a jaybird. His gait was purposeful, and he seemed unashamed of his state. As he got near Roger he stopped, and looked down. He walked right up to him, less than two feet away. He got to his knees, and stared Roger in the eyes.

“What’s your name old soul?”

“What do you care? What’s wrong with you, why are you…?”

“Please, just tell me, sir.”

“I’m Roger son, now answer me a question.”

“What’s that Roger?”

“Why are you naked, and what are you planning to do with that gun?”

“Well I just got laid, and I need to see if this feels the same way.”

“Excuse me?”

And Arthur shot him, right in between the eyes. His aim was true, and Roger’s exit wound launched the back of his skull against the liquor store wall. When Gwen woke up she heard that Arthur was in the shower. She went back to sleep and smiled to herself. She was in love with her best friend, and nothing had gone wrong yet between them.

As for Roger Templeton, no one knew who he was, and there was no one person who could identify his body. He died, nameless.


Chapter 16: Hackey Sack

The General was in his private office in the corner of the dismal, damp little basement. The last meeting had been productive. Final plans had been solidified and there was even a date assigned to the…event. He was in full glory, beaming at the wall. That is when Arthur entered.

“Sir.” He politely stood at a quasi-attention.

“Come in Lieutenant. You seem nervous. Are you anxious for our plans to begin?”

“You might say that sir. I have to admit, I’m definitely more anxious than excited.”

“Nerves are normal. Such a gruesome thing is enough to make someone tense, but these things are necessary, after all. These events we plan, our final idea of the world, they are steps. Baby steps. But still steps.”

“I’m not afraid to kill people, sir.”

The General was less than surprised, he was more pleased than anything. His true plan was unfolding brilliantly.

“You’re fearful of something?”

“The plan. It doesn’t feel like it will work. Our strategy of divide and conquer, it seems primitive and poorly thought out.”

“You have a different suggestion?”

The static between them was thick; the confliction was clearly bouncing between them, like a hackey sack. All it would take was a good kick, and things would go a little wild.

“I think we should maintain a semblance of squads and groups. If we are united, we can better organize.”

“Yes, but we are connected by the radios, we can communicate over the distances.”

“However, if a situation arises, we are individuals, not a true Faction.”

“What situation are you anticipating?”

“I’m merely suggesting…that you have an escort. We must protect our leader. I think that over all other things we must maintain our ideals through you, regardless of who falls.”

The General smiled internally, but looked surprised and flattered outwardly.

“That’s very considerate of our cause. Who would you propose in this “escort” Arthur?”

“Myself, of course. As your primary field lieutenant I see myself as the best man for the job.”

The General stood and patted him on the back.

“Naturally. I accept. If you wish to personally accompany me on this most crucial mission, I accept.”

The General smiled wryly as Arthur left, but he didn’t notice that Arthur was doing the same.


Chapter 17: Eternal

Become.

Become.

Must become him, be the leader.

Make really real steps. No more baby steps.

Take over, be the last one, be the real leader.

killkillkillkillkillkillkillki-

I HAVE to now – it’s all set up for me. I set it up.

Watch – he’ll die, he’s not immortal – I am, I deserve that title.

Blood…I can smell it – looks so good to me…I

He won’t see it coming. He respects me above all the others. Except –

Him. He has to be next – or before?

I will – him first.

I will do it, then I will be eternal.

Yes.

Him, him first.

Arthur will die.


Chapter 18: The Other End of the Gun

Arthur was walking from school to his house, which was just a few blocks down through the bad part of town. He had stopped taking the cautious way home ever since he started carrying his gun around all the time, and he lusted over the idea that he might have to use it. He passed by a dark little corner when a figure suddenly emerged from it.

“Arthur, we have to talk.” It was Ector, but he looked strange. His usual straight and clean look was mangled by stray hairs, sweat drops, and flushness to his face. His eyes were wide and bloodshot.

“Ector…are you alright, you look like hell…”

“I’m fine. Come here.”

Arthur inched in until he was a good foot or two from Ector. He put his hand in his jacket pocket and felt his gun, nonchalantly. Better safe than sorry, he figured.

“So…things are going well between you and the General, huh?”

“I suppose so Ector…we’re getting along, we respect each other, he trusts me.”

“Wonderful. I must tell you Arthur. I didn’t drag you here to talk, but you knew that…”

Ector produced the Desert Eagle from his holster and pointed it at Arthur’s head. The barrel quivered. His pupils dilated and his face got redder.

“How could you respect such a spineless man, Arthur? I tried to help you, you must understand. The Faction is going nowhere under his control. I must wrestle control for myself, and lead us down a more worthwhile path. You surely understand, don’t you?”

Arthur blinked, and in one deft motion, swept Ector’s gun away and ducked onto the ground. The large Desert Eagle hit the ground and discharged into Ector’s foot. He grunted and hit the floor, clutching his bleeding, broken foot.

“I understand Ector. One of us has to die, and one of us gets to kill. Sounds fair, but as long as you don’t mind, I’d like to be on this end of the gun.”

He pulled out the Beretta that The General had gotten him and tightened the suppressor. He unloaded ten shots into Ector’s body, then a final one into his head. He was careful to avoid getting blood on his feet, and stepped around to pick up the Desert Eagle. It was heavy, and when he dropped the clip, he only saw one remaining charge.

The cocky bastard had only loaded enough to kill him and The General once.


Chapter 19: Pride

Arthur put the bloody Desert Eagle at the center of the meeting table that night. Several murmurs started to build, and The General raised his hands to quiet them.

“It would seem that the Lieutenant here has an explanation for why Ector’s weapon is here instead of Ector himself.”

Arthur wove the story of their confrontation, and Ector’s clear madness. He showed the near empty clip to the group, as well as mentioning Ector’s slander of The General. Everyone nodded in agreement that he had done the most appropriate thing. After the meeting, The General pulled him into his private office for more explanation.

“Arthur, do you know why Ector wanted me dead?”

“He mentioned…you taking the Faction nowhere. I guess he thought you were going too slowly.”

“Let me explain my plan to you. You deserve to know. You see, the world has been shaped by the actions of man. The slightest event can change political policy; opinion on anything is easily swayed by four o’clock news. My plan is to make these steps possible. Slowly, but surely, we will take our steps toward civilization. If people see actions such as ours they react, and those reactions are what we seek. Where Ector saw us moving slowly, was where he simply lacked foresight. You see?”

“Of course sir. I do have one question though, if you permit…”

The General waved him on.

“Who will replace Ector as your right hand man? You must have a selection in mind?”

“Well, it sounds like you’re just eager enough for the job. You’re in.”

Arthur smiled as he shook his hand. He was exactly where he wanted to be. He felt nothing but pride as he became the highest Faction member he could ever aspire to be.

Chapter 20: Perfect

Gwen and Arthur had the perfect relationship. They saw each other everyday at school and shared a kiss before classes and afterward. Arthur skipped two Faction meetings a week to spend the night at Gwen’s house. Mysteriously, her parents had made a stop in Memphis, and Arthur’s parents were beyond even noticing his absences.

One night, Arthur awoke at about three in the morning and noticed something outside. The moon was full and the window was open, he welcomed the cool breeze as he realized something. The heat of a warm spring was upon him, and this was the sixth full moon he had seen since the night he was sworn into the Faction. It was the second since the first night he had slept with Gwen.

He was terrified. Time was slipping away like melting ice in a sieve. He had done so much: felt the cold handle of a gun in his hand, stood shoulder to shoulder with the leader of a group of revolutionaries, and killed someone. Oh, he had killed. His throat felt stiff and his eyes became watery as he thought of the face of old Ms. Hannigan, Ector, even that old bum Roger. Suddenly, Gwen was behind him.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard you crying.” She spoke so softly, like she might wake someone.

“I-I’m fine. I just…I’m worried. About something.”

“Well, what is it; I want to help you…”

“Just tell me there’s plenty of time. Tell me I’m not running out of time.”

“Alright, calm down. You have plenty of time. It’s going to be okay.”

Arthur grabbed her, and held her tightly. She snuggled her bare body up to his, and rested her head on his chest. He was trembling, but it slowed. He finally cleared his throat and she looked up at his eyes.

“Are you better? Is everything fine now?”

Arthur looked into her eyes. She really was beautiful, and her look made him feel warmer.

“Of course. Everything’s perfect.”

Naturally, I'm still not done. I'm hoping to finish by the end of the summer, but it just might not happen. Rate me please!