The Pole Shift

Macka Lines up his Ducks

Macka stood outside the dilapidated house, across the road was a backup squad, in case things had got too hairy. When they saw Macka emerge, they drove off with a slight nod. He wiped at his cheek, it still seeped blood. Mick was a tough man, but a tough man confined to normal men - he would never have been able to best Macka. Momentarily his ego relived the fight, those jabs were good, hard, Mick would win most fights with them alone.  Micks fists twisted, corkscrewed a dozen degrees at the end of their reach, that's what had cut his cheek. Macka smiled as he remembered his return blows, he delivered them from his hips, his left uppercut, the firecracker right. He was unashamedly proud to be lethal.

                The reliving of the fight led to the image of Lett touching Clarky's face. He had not expected that scene, the loss in her. He suspected Lett had not understood her feelings either. He asked Prophet what Lett had whispered, but the AI didn't know, not audible, unseen. Her secret then, and he felt quietly pleased as if her privacy was a ceremony that should be respected.

                Tomorrow was Sunday, He needed to visit the others by midweek. Sean was drunk and unaware that his ex wife had made aggressive plans,  he was too wrapped up in the bow he was making. Macka suspected he would have to help him make it again, then show him how to use it. There was every chance he would need the weapon when the neighbours realised the Shift had arrived. He made some further checks, as he waited for a pick up. Inside it seemed Lett had joined the orgy, he felt some sort of pang, not jealousy for Lett or sexual pleasures, perhaps exclusion, he wasn't sure. He shrugged and waited for an update on Sean.

                  Prophet reported Sean had used a lemon tree for bow wood. At least the wood would was acceptable material, but he had just cut down a food source. Macka rolled his eyes yet again, marvelling at how Sean lived in the split second and did not think ahead. Macka pondered the immense food  horde Sean had stock piled. That wasn't thinking ahead he realised, that was something Sean enjoyed doing whilst he got drunk. Macka checked on Jimmy, he was playing belligerence with his step dad, Macka would see him Monday morning  and impart the news, Jimmy would be wide eyed, his sudden obedience leaving him a victim of indecision. The boy would struggle to decide who went in the pods, but it was a test for his coming manhood, and the hardships should they survive. He was more concerned for Mnem, Prophet reported she had driven to the top of Mt Beckworth. There was a group of people who had made camp up there, not survivalists, fatalists or hedonists. Country people, they were tough. They would take, but they had compassion. Mnem would have to wing it, if she got into to trouble she might have to go it alone. Macka wanted the last day of the Old World to himself, he was going to head up to high places where he knew he would not be bothered by his masters, or by the human sheep of the world. Tarp and Riffle he thought, that's all I will need.

                  Before Macka left, he placed a crystal the size of a pea in an envelope.  It was a console, an implant that interfaced with Prophet, he wrote a note telling Lett to insert it in her earlobe. He put it through the letterbox and briefly heard the sound of sexual exertions. Good luck he thought, glad that he had completed his task with Lett. If she made it she would be a serious human being in the post Pole Shift world.