The Animal Man Ch.2

It was April when they came. Men on horsebacks, garbed in full plated steel armor, holstering .45 Caliber rifles, came into town followed by their black plexiglass tank. The black steel and tank moved together like a rolling black cloud. It wasn't completely necessary to ride horses when they could have easily driven their own solar cars, but I assumed they were just showing off their control of nature; the tank was control of us.

They went door to door. We were required to file an audit with the solar tank's computer system and then pay the required tax. They left each house with either people or money; both fit into the large plexiglass beast; it ran as if it fed on humans and paper alone. Since only the elderly could operate the computers well, many were thrown into the tank for processing back at the city.

Thankfully, I had been one of the lucky ones to live with a man by the name of Guss Rogers; at the ripe old age of 60, Guss could tell you stories of the world over, but his wildly wondering eye made it hard to tell if he was --in fact-- talking to you at all. He said that long ago, all people lived together. Of course some people lived in nicer places than others, but there were no lines drawn; people just went to a place called a bank and sold the rest of their lives over to buy a house someone else had built. I really don't know if either now or then was better, but I knew I had to get out.

I had hardly made any income this year. I mostly hunted and fished near the edge of the safe zone for food; most of us did; the tax service didn't understand this. They couldn't calculate self produced necessities, so they tagged it as a suspicious investment. I had seen it tons of times. You'll see someone look at the same red glowing screen on the computer for about 5 minutes hoping the auditors didn't notice, and then the men on horse back would jump from their steeds and push them into the open door of the tank. If you tried to run, they shot you. The tumbling led would rip chunks of flesh from you and either instantly kill you or amputate a limb, killing you slowly.

Two houses away, I could hear the tank's motor start; it was a buzzing that shook the ground as it edged forward to the next house.

I didn't know my neighbors very well. They mostly kept to themselves and always stared out their window whenever I did yard work; it seemed like they were wondering if I was watching them; I just wanted to get it done before the acid rain came.

A humbled figure stepped out of the front door as soon as the auditors knocked. It seemed like he was eagerly waiting for it. My neighbor started talking to the men, explaining something about why he cut so many trees this year. Then his head sunk low and began to whisper something I couldn't make out. The auditors backed up and pulled out the pistols strapped to their chests --the rifles still snug inside the holster of the horses. They walked inside, and after several moments a woman screamed and I heard a shot go off from inside the house. The man's head cocked up and he ran for the rifle on the horse. As he went to pull it out, one of the auditors stepped out of the front of the door and shot him twice in the back.

I looked to Guss with disbelief. He focused his good eye on me. "You've got to go now boy," he walked to the door and closed it. "Go through the back, they found the paper mill in the Upton's basement, and they'll come here next."
"What?" I stammered on my own tongue, and before I knew it, I was backing myself into the wall. "Why? The only thing they can process me for is unregistered hunting."
"Damnit son, what do you think they'll find when they search this house?" He stepped over to me and grabbed my leather shirt.
"The books..."
"Right."
I stepped back from him with a glance that said goodbye and ran out the back door as they set my neighbor's house on ablaze. Behind the house was nothing but thick woods --woods I had been raised to know before Guss took me in after the zone breach of 46.

I ran as fast I could through the barbs and young trees. My legs were beginning to bleed, but I kept running until I felt safe. That feeling didn't occur until I could barely see the smoke hanging like a small cloud in the distance. I had run through the woods up to the side of a mountain. I looked over to see the black cloud grow larger. I felt a sunken feeling of fear that my house was also burned. It was the last thing I had left of my family. It wasn't until then I remembered that my neighbors had a seven month old son. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I still can't believe I ran.