Aaron Christopher
The Unknown Survivor
It couldn't have been a nicer day. The
sun was bright and full as it hung above the heads of this rather bland
and boring city. A strong wind carried various articles of trash
safely across this empty street. It was a very peaceful day. Of
course the thought was crossing his mind about what could make this day
any better. He knew what could make this day worse for a lot of people.
He knew all to well. And that moment was coming. Coming very
soon.
He sipped his coffee down a bit and set the
cup on the table. Peering out of the window again, he made a private
bet on which would make it across the street first, the candy wrapper or
the shard of newspaper. The mother and child eating nosily behind
him was beginning to get on his nerves. The child kept making a buzzing
sound with her lips, spraying syrup and pancake bits all over the table.
The mother had laughed initially at this action, so of course the
child assumed she was a laugh riot and began to practice the art of repetition.
And the mothers scolding was failing to have any impact. What
if he just turned around and slapped the kid? That was a very tempting
idea. He'd let them get away with it though. It seemed
rather trivial to him at the moment. There were much bigger fish
to fry.
He finished his coffee with a power gulp
and tipped the waitress generously. He liked the waitress. He
had often dreamed of having a wife that looked very similar to her. She
had a nice figure. Not too exciting, but she wasn't the Goodyear
blimp either. A little on the plain side, but that smile is what
got him. She just seemed to light up the diner every time she showed
off that group of white neon lights in her mouth. This woman would
take care of him for the rest of his life if they got married. He
knew he wouldn't even think about beating her. His father had always
beat his mom. Every time his dad would strike her, he could feel
the pain. And it really hurt him when his Dan would pick him up and use
him to beat his mother. Yep, this girl would make a fine wife. Of
course that was all rather pointless to think about now. It was time
to get to work. Without a word to anyone he exited the diner.
An ordinary day would have been nice. However
Clancy would have no such luck. That morning he stepped out of the
cardboard box he called home. The smell of his own breath had managed
to crawl up into his nose and awaken him again. Although he really
didn't mind. He needed to get up. It was Tuesday. The
roar of the mammoth trucks could already be heard in the distance.
Clancy smacked his lips as he contemplated
what might be in store for him at breakfast. Edging his way around the
corner of his fairly untidy alleyway he spotted one of the massive trucks
he hated with a passion. It had a good lead on him this morning,
but that wasn't too much of a problem for him. Clancy sprinted toward
the truck with every ounce of his strength. Finally overtaking it,
he continued past it looking for a good place to start.
He spotted his first target on 23rd street.
It was a decent sized can right next to the local bar and grill.
The best cans are the ones without any rust on the bottom. That
let in too much moisture. This can was plastic so it made it all the more
worth while. This sucker could preserve food better than tupperware.
Clancy lofted himself into the air with a graceful jump. The feeling
of weightlessness filled his body for a split second. And then he
landed with a satisfying crunch in the dead center of the garbage can.
Sifting through the filth, Clancy found some
corn on the cob and some practically untouched baby back ribs. This
was an excellent start to his day. Most of time he'd go without breakfast,
it was definitely starting out as a good day. Clancy pulled himself
out of the can along with his cherished findings. Without pausing
he quickly devoured his meal. This took all of two minutes. That
was fifteen seconds under his old record time. Now with breakfast
finished it was time to look for lunch. However Clancy was feeling
rather exotic today; this influenced him to go down town. Of course
it is dangerous down town.. But that's the whole fun of it. Besides
that, the food always tastes better when you really have to work for it.
Clancy took a deep breath and started his long walk to the promised
land.
As he crawled into his moving truck he looked
back one last time at the diner and the waitress he would probably day
dream about for months. With a pump of the gas, a punch of the clutch,
and flick of the wrist the engine coughed to life and kicked him out of
his sentimental mood. He pulled out of the parking lot avoiding all
the chunks of glass from broken bottles as he studied the complex road
map. It wouldn't be until an hour after he left the diner that he
would reach his destination.
Traffic was terribly heavy. And it
didn't make it any easier driving this truck. The thing drove like
an oil tanker. The idea came to him that perhaps a semi would have
been better to haul this stuff. It could have held a lot more and
people would give him more room on these cramped highways. Then again
a semi would be a bit more conspicuous. The whole thing was worthless
to debate anyway. He was driving a truck with the acceleration of
a three toed sloth and that was the way it was gonna be.
He began to reflect on his fond memories
of the military. There were very few of them. His favorite day had
to be when he purposely launched a practice mortar shell directly at the
generals headquarters. They had never caught him for that. To
this day he wasn't sure why they hadn't. It didn't really surprise
him, he just didn't know why. The army hadn't been very good to him.
It seemed like they tried to make him go nuts. The idea
of insanity was fairly easy to fight off at first. But after most
of your unit loses it, you might as well go with the flow. Now two
years later he would still lie awake some nights with the sound of his
drill Sergeant's voice ringing in his ears. "Boy! You couldn't
find your butt with both hands!" or "Private, you couldn't hit
your butt with a scoop shovel" or "Son, you couldn't hit a bull
in the butt with a banjo.". His drill Sergeant had seemed to
have a thing about butts. At first it was the rumor that the Sergeant
was gay. That idea was thrown out when they met his wife. You
could find her butt pretty easy. This discovery invented a new theory
for the Sergeant's infatuation with the butt. No one would ask the
Sergeant about it of course
A few thoughts of his family began
to trickle into his mind as he changed lanes to get off the main highway.
Only his sister had shown any love for him. And she was long
dead now. Perhaps she could see him now. He knew she would understand
why he was about to do this thing. She really understood him. It
helped that she was deaf and mute. The honk of a small car's horn
from behind snapped him out of his trance. He quickly hit the gas
as he realized he was stopped at a green light. The plan he had formulated
went over and over in his mind. It wasn't the sanest of plans. He
could back out now of it, if he wanted to. Maybe go back to the diner
and have a conversation with that waitress. It was beginning to sound
a whole lot more
appealing to him at the moment. He shook it off. That was his
emotions talking. He tended not to follow his emotions, mostly because
they never seemed to know exactly what to do about things. It
was time to get focused.
Clancy dodged and weaved through heavy traffic
as he briskly jogged toward the down town area. In the distance he
could see the buildings that marked his main target. Those buildings
and the ones all around them normally have the most succulent and relatively
unspoiled food in them. And not only that they throw out the most
food as well. "Dinner is served," Clancy thought
to himself happily. He cautiously made his way down to the closest
buildings and began his search. The first set of cans had very little
in them from the day before. Most of the food in them was two to three
days old. The red meat was as hard as a rock and the white meat was
developing a severe case of maggots. It all was a bit too rotten
for even Clancy. Moving on he spotted a building that harbored a huge dumpster.
With a closer inspection however he found that the dumpster had a
very large and heavy lid covering it. Trying to get in there would
be more work than it was worth. It wasn't until the sixth building
he investigated did he spot his dinner.
It was one of the large buildings in the
area but nowhere near the size of the giant ones. The size of the building
doesn't matter though, it's what you smell. And he smelled something
awfully good. As he rounded the corner though he was hit by a powerful
smell that made his stomach tighten and do flip flops. He could still
smell the odor of his future lunch but he was curious to find what this
horrific smell was emanating from. After some primo detective work
Clancy uncovered the source of the smell. A large yellow truck was
parked in front of the building that was going to supply his lunch. And
it was very apparent that this is what was causing such a terrible smell.
Satisfied with his findings Clancy walked back to the side alley
to find his lunch.
There wasn't much time. Everything
had to be perfect. This was what he had been planning for, for months.
He would not let this opportunity slip by him. He had done
that way too many times in his life. He was engaged once. Well
he wished he was engaged to her anyway. She never knew. And
he never asked. It was something he was always kicking himself over.
That and the time he killed half his platoon during a war game because
he accidentally used live ammo. That sort of bothered him off and
on as well.
He double checked the timer and the connection
between the detonator. The wiring wasn't too complicated but you
can never play it too safe. It was all set. Without a moment's
hesitation he started the countdown. Now all he had to do was stand
way back and watch the show. As he climbed out of the doomed truck
he began to wonder if he would really be able to get away with this. He
knew he had a knack for not getting caught, but this was bigger than anything
he had ever done. The idea of being caught was beginning to unsettle
him. No turning back now. It was done. And there was
no way he would try and stop it now. That was one thing he learned
well in the military. Never return to an activated bomb. Especially
one this big. This was going to be very big.
Clancy had found the can that was the holder
of his meal and had began to dig inside of it
vigorously. The nourishment he was so desperately working for was
almost at the bottom of the can, obviously it had been buried by someone
to avoid alley cats from digging in it. And so he had to slide further
and further into the can. It was then that he heard it. A thunderous
noise that shook the heavens. The noise startled him, making him
jump and so he fell all the way into the can. Just as he hit the
bottom, the can rattled from impact. And then the can was moving.
At first Clancy thought the can had just fallen over and rolled,
but when he peered toward the open end of the can he howled in fear at
what he saw. He was flying. He could see almost the entire
city as he soared across the sky line. And directly below him he
could see a huge fireball engulfing the very building he had been sitting
beside just a second before. The front of the building just vanished.
Where a solid concrete mass had stood was now more of a massive doll
house. With a lot of left over building blocks. He could see
people already running around frantically. It all happened so fast.
And Clancy thanked himself for never working for the government.
He would rather eat out of a garbage can than push a pencil in an
office building that will one day blow up. Blow... up...UP! Clancy
had a reality check as he remembered where he was.
The can was starting to accelerate
as it descended from its original flight path. Turbulence began to shake
the can as the velocity of its decision increased. Faster and faster
Clancy and his can fell, destined to become sidewalk art. Clancy
thought of his mother. Then of his first toy. His whole life
flashed before his eyes. Secretly he wished he had an edit button
for some parts and perhaps an instant replay for others. He missed
his old home. The one with the fuzzy and unmadded carpet. The
recliner that everyone agreed was his. It couldn't have been a better
life. Three square meals a day. And there was love. Lots
and lots of love. It surrounded him then. It felt like it would
never let go. And then it did. Just like that. It faded
away with one swift stroke. A tear came to Clancy's eye. He could
remember each face that once hugged him and accepted him for who he was.
And now people would rather stare at the ground then give him an
ounce of attention.
The wind poured over the top of the can making
a deep hollow moaning sound. The can began to spin wildly. Left,
right, up, and down it spun without consideration for its passenger. Out
of fear and motion sickness Clancy threw up. The baby back ribs didn't
look quite as good the second time through, but Clancy vowed to eat them
again if he indeed survived this. Still hurtling through the sky
the contents of the can slowly started to rise out. Clancy frantically
pushed against the sides of the can to hold him with in. Silence.
This moment of quiet was almost enough to drive him mad. He
whimpered with fear to disrupt the terrifying silence. With a prayer
Clancy braced himself for impact.
The sound of splashing water filled his ears
and then his lungs. He began to swim through the blessed waters that
had spared him. As he swam he choked up the water in his lungs, all
the way to shore. Clancy pulled himself out and looked back toward
the center of the pond just in time to see the garbage can submerge. With
the thrill of being alive filling his heart he gave out a quiet sigh. Looking
fondly out toward where the can had been in the pond he thought of the
breakfast and lunch he had lost. Even though his baby back ribs and
mystery meat were now at the bottom of this pond, Clancy couldn't be happier.
It was an adventure he'd never forget. Of course he would never
tell anyone of this wonderful tale. No one would listen to him anyway.
They'd just send him to the local pound. Clancy knew what happens
at the
pound.
He only watched the blast for a few seconds.
Then he casually walked away from the scene, praying no one
saw him around that truck. Oklahoma City had felt his vegeance against
the U.S. and he was feeling pretty darn good about that. It was a
moment he would never forget. He wondered if someday he would wish he could.
It was foolish to think that way though. Why rain on his own
parade? It was time to ceelbrate, but the first thing to do was find
a car. And that would probably be the hardest part of this whole
thing. As he strolled along, gradually making his way out of the
center of town he could hear sirens and screams way off in the distance
behind him. And he knew that he was responsible for all of it. He
had done it. And the militia had him to thank. He would not
forget to mention his sister in his acceptance speech when he recieved
the honarary anarchy award at their next meeting.
As the sounds of screaming and sirens faded
away in the distance, he found himself in the middle of a rather peaceful
park. Trees spread out and up beyond the sky. And the green
grass waved gently in a breeze that was left over from the mornings wind.
It really was a perfect day. And in the center of the park
there was a duck pond. He had never seen so many mallards in one
spot in his life. This would have to go on his list of things he
would kick himself for the rest of his life. He had forgotten rule
number one. Never leave home without your high powered repeating
rifle. Roast duck sounded rather good at the moment.
Neeling down by the pond he examined the
other water fowl that filled the crystal clear pond. Some swans,
a couple geese, the mallards, and a dog. He took another look. Sure
enough a dog was swiming to shore. "Now I wonder how exactly
he managed to get out in the middle of that," he thought as he chuckled
to himself. That weren't no bird dog, and it sure ain't no black
lab. It was pretty baffling why exactly a dog would just jump in
to a pond without good reson. It wasn't even hot. The dog turned
and looked back to the center of the pond after it had pulled itself ashore.
It stared out there for a long time. Then with an eruption
of flying water and hair it shook itself off.
This dog was something he wanted. For
some reason his heart went out to the animal. It looked so lonely. And
a bit mangey. He could take it home with him. He needed another dog
around the place. You can never have enough dogs. It
would more than likely get along with DeWayne, his pitbull. DeWayne
had always been friendly to him. He walked over to the soaked dog
and leaned down on one knee.
"Come here pooch. I won't hurt
yah. Come on now. I'll give you some real food." He
smiled as the dog turned and began taking interust in him.
Clancy was in shock. This was the first
human being to even so much as talk to him in over three years. (Dog years.)
It looked like a nice man. Clean cut, handsome, probably very organized.
And he kept repeating a word that Clancy had never passed up in his
life. "Food." The man kept repeating the word as if he
had an unlimited supply of it. It was too good to be true. However
Clancy knew that these opportunities are few and far between, so he threw
caution aside and romped over to the man. The man picked him up and
held him close, even though he was wet. Clancy could feel the love
in the man's embrace. He could feel it so well that it scared him.
Clancy struggled to break free but the man
held tight saying, "It's ok, It's ok.". He began to wonder
if this man had been unable to show much love to anyone in his life.
That would at least explain the death grip hug. It was obvious
he cared for Clancy deeply, for what reason he didn't exactly know. This
didn't bother him very much since it meant that if this man did truly love
him, he would feed him all the more.
He knew he had found his soul mate. This
dog was not like DeWayne at all. This one was special. It understood
him. He would never let it out of his sight again. Heaven help
him if he ever did. For suddenly this dog was all that he was. And
all that he was to become.
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