The Perfect State: A Fictional Commentary on Humanity and Politics

The Journey: Chapter 7

Great North American Wasteland, 31 January 2048

7.45 AM, Leaving behind the bloodied corpse of the now-dead agent Octavius, Mane and Quent with their families began the longest stretch of the journey so far. With supplies aplenty and the cars at full charge, there was no excuse to not drive until sunset.

Mane was now leading the Convoy and Quent drove behind him. The murder of Octavius on the hill which the water tower as on had been an experience and a half for both of the men particularly Quent upon reflection.

He was driving but his mind was elsewhere. The discovery of Octavius as an agent of the Supreme Elder confirmed what he believed at the back of his mind all along; the Supreme Elder had planned something for them.

The escape from New Oxford was easier than expected, suspiciously so. For a city so heavily guarded almost all the time, it had been incredibly quiet apart from the unfortunate young sentry he had to murder to get out of the city. What if the escape was made easy on purpose but for what for?

The most likely reason would be that the Supreme Elder wanted to plant an agent within New Providence. But why? That question came up repeatedly in his mind. As Mane had observed, the Supreme Elder was old nearly 74 but he wasn't senile or anything of the sort. His mind was as smart as when he first entered the secure location during the dark days of the 'Fall of Man'.

Quent struggled with this question, it started to consume him inside. Trying to get his mind off he started to focus on the long drive ahead across the flat wasteland which had been their home for three days or so. He was still in awe that once 'America's Breadbasket' could turn into such a desolate barren wasteland where even the sky brought death in tiny drops.

Also, he was still struggling with what happened next to the water tower. It wasn't like him to do what he did to Octavius even if he was a spy, He had no idea what came over him at that moment. What dark beast overcame him? Whenever the thought of why his mind went blank like nothing he had ever felt before.

The miles went on and on, a seemingly never-ending monotony of dead fields broken by the occasional relic of the old world. Sunset was at 6.00 P.M or so and it had only been by the clock in the car for three hours. He was not only now stressed, tired and guilt-ridden but bored as fuck. This continued until midday.

Still, they had to drive, they had to get to New Providence but every moment that passed it seemed in his mindless important. The hope which his vision had given him had evaporated away like steam from a boiling kettle leaving him with only an urge to never see another flat field again.

Driving on, He began to think about the old America. Witnessing what he witnessed the last three days, it made for a sober lesson about how a once-great nation could fall into tragedy. When he was a youth, He never thought that the land of the free which he once called home could fall to such base urges.

Memories were dim as it was twenty years ago, Quent was born in 2001 just after the commencement of the War on Terror and his childhood years were dominated by the fallout from it. As a kid, he loved politics. The news channels were on constantly; it was as if he got high off the knowledge that he was informed on current affairs.

2016 was the first election he could remember in earnest, Quent was in high school at the time. The election of the Dictator for Life as he came to be known in the 2020s began the change from the United States to federal democracy to a banana republic. His parents were some of the first to protest the stripping of fundamental rights and the slide into fascism but that came at the greatest cost to the family. Academics were the first to be targeted under the 'Cleansing' as it came to be.

Inspired by the dictators of his time, the Dictator for Life after under circumstances he could not precisely recall became Dictator for Life declared that the country was to be purged of all those who opposed him. The first targets were his most prominent critics; the academics, the press, minorities such as the LGBT Community and members of the now-banned Democratic Party.

Many of his supporters assisted in his call to cleanse the country of dissenting elements. Sights of 'Supporters of the President' dragging out those who were deemed deviant was a common sight in the dark days before the second civil war. Quent had seen a few of his friends suffer the same fate and then he read the now banned book by Dr Pasco.

Angry at what he viewed as the unintelligent mob taking over a nation founded on the ideals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Quent read the book cover to cover intently; his angry mind becoming the most absorbent sponge.

Luckily for him and his family, Dr Pasco who had now established his secure location in the midwest of America invited them to stay in his bunker which had provisions to last out the now seemingly coming human apocalypse. His parents grabbed onto the opportunity with both hands and moved to the bunker travelling by car across America's breadbasket. They had originally lived in Massachusetts as his parents were Professors Emeritus at Harvard.

A week after they arrived, the second civil war began. Quent watched it all from the television in his room at the bunker, safe from all the fighting outside he watched non stop. It began with California's succession from the Union citing the 'tyranny of the Dictator of Life', it was soon joined by; Washington, Oregon and Nevada. Other states wished to join but were quickly put under occupation by the Dictator for Life who declared martial law.

With the majority of the former United States on the East Coast and the New Pacific States of America, the battlegrounds would be in the midwest. The first battle was in Nebraska on the flat land, the battle was bloody with many thousands dying.

The Dictator for Life then in a breach of all international protocols authorised the United States Armed Forces to use chemical weapons upon the troops of the New Pacific States of America's forces. The Dictator for Life had pulled out of any international conventions citing 'Sovereignty'.

The first Sarin attack was reported on the news channel he watched every day on the first day of the second month of the war. Scenes of horror flooded the airways of the dying displaying the symptoms of a Sarin gas attack. For a still-young Quent, it was quite a life-changing experience.

Then one day, the television signal cut out completely without explanation. All communication was lost with the outside world leaving Quent all full of questions. What would be the world be like when they finally emerged outside once more? He could only assume the worst.

When the people finally emerged it was not a pretty sight. Apart from the entrance to the bunker and the fence which surrounded it was a wasteland. At first, it was a struggle but with determination they got agriculture working again. Soon enough a city was being built around the most fertile land in the twenty-mile area which encapsulated the bunker. The city was in his eyes, humanity's last bastion because he assumed everyone else was dead.

He drifted back to the present and a feeling of sadness overcame him. For years he had tried to forget but something about driving through this wasteland reminded him. The only hope was that New Providence could provide a place to thrive, It had to be because he could never believe in the lies again.

Luckily, they began to see some more elevation and some mountains in the distance. It seemed the wasteland was ending quicker than they originally thought it would; he would not miss the wasteland. In fact, He would hate the sight of near-total flatness for miles for the rest of his life.