Turning off the lights you sit in the dark, hoping the patrol passes you by. Did they really just wipe out one of the gangs in seconds? Were they defending themselves or is the military wiping out everyone left? The patrol reaches your door, and to your horror suddenly stops.
"I got body heat, looks like 1 human," is said by a female voice on the other side of your door. They have thermal imaging? An explosion of cuss words and fear enter your mind along with thoughts of surviving Black Tuesday only to die here?
"UNKNOWN PERSON BEHIND THIS DOOR! OBEY ALL OF THE FOLLOWING INSTRUCTIONS OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN FIRE. YOUR PROTECTION WILL NOT HELP YOU!" the female voice shouts out, quickly followed by the sound of multiple automatic fire-arms being cocked.
"OPEN THE DOOR SLOWLY, PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD, AND STEP FORWARD 3 STEPS. YOU HAVE UNTIL I COUNT TO TEN!"
"I'M COMING OUT! I'M UNARMED!", you shout back without even giving time for the voice to start counting. You have little doubt that they could drop you the moment you gave them an excuse too and you certainly don't want to do. Fortunately it seems like they don't want to kill you either.
"Was that a man's voice?" the voice says in surprise, and as you open the door you discover that all four of the soldiers now aiming automatic weapons at you are women. No great beauty queens, but then again they are all physically fit and who knows what's under the body armor?
"Oh my god," you here one of them say, but as all of them are the ones with the guns you don't react.
"Commander," the leader of these four says into a walkie-talkie, "we found a lone male in the basement, and he looks sane."
"I'll bring the doctor- don't move until I get there," a female voice answers back.
For the next few minutes the air seems thick with electric tension. The four soldiers really don't want to kill you, that much is obvious, but apparently standing orders are to treat men as enemies. Soon the loud sound of a late-30's military career woman resounds through the little hallway. The doctor behind her, the only one not wearing body armor that reminds you of every nerdy girl in college you've ever wanted to nail anyway, begins looking you over analytically while preparing some sort of test kit.
"Well doctor, what do you think?" the late 30's woman, obviously the Commander, asks with authority.
"He should behave long enough to do the tests, here's the blood sampler."
With that the commander steps forward, her soldiers repositioning themselves so they wouldn't kill their leader if they have to kill you. Grabbing an arm you feel a strong prick.
"What's your name boy?"
" "
"Well, you are either the luckiest son-of-a-bitch who ever lived or the sorriest. At ease." she says, removing the needle and showing you the vial full of your blood before giving it to the doctor. The soldiers finally lower their weapons, and it's hard to tell who is more relieved, you or them.
"Want to know why?"
"Sure." you say, unable to stop the smile. She probably would have told you anyway if you had said no but what the hell, you're alive!
"Black Tuesday. Final score: 99.7% of the human race dead. As for the survivors it tended to leave some particularly nasty proteins. We think that of the surviving women about 40% were sterilized and driven insane, another 50% were just sterilized, and most- but not all- of the rest are crazier then June-bugs but can have babies. In men the score is different, men seemed 10 times as likely to survive the virus- however about 999 out 1,000 were sterilized and Section 8."
You nod your head. You don't understand the biology involved but you follow
"This is where you come in," the Commander continues producing a side-arm, "If the doctor says you are sterile and crazy, double-tap back of the head- no hard feelings. If the doctor says you are crazy but your sperm works we hook you up to a machine in one of our trucks, then double-tap to the back of your head. If the doctor says you're sterile but sane we offer you a job. 3 hots and a cot, plus being the only man in our barracks I'm sure you'd be very popular. Feel free to fraternize with the women as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties, and they can't have kids either so you'd have lots to talk about I'm sure. If the doc says your sane and fertile we take you to Camp Hope. It's not a forced breeding camp, everyone there can contribute as little or as much as they like, but you'd be the 5th man in the New USA to live there with coming close to 2,000 women both sane and fertile. The disease killed everyone under 15, we need to shore up our numbers if the human race is going to live."
You hear here finish her little pitch and it gives you lots to think about. You don't consider yourself insane, but then again what crazy person does? Maybe you're just really good at hiding it. It's a lot to take in and suddenly you feel the barrel of the sidearm against the back of your head. When did she get back there? Damn, that pitch distracted you and now you are helpless. The soldiers and the doctor obviously don't like it, but probably have known someone who died because of a virus nutcase.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. If you are a ticking time-bomb I won't have you killing people that aren't. What's the verdict doc?"
"Well Commander, He's. . ." |