The Underground

I hear  the "drip drip " of water drops falling into puddles. I moan at the pain of my splitting headache, and cringe at the acrid smell of a dank... What is this?

"Where am I?" I blurt out weakly.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alive! You were out for 3 days." Softly exclaims a sweet voice and i can feel the warmth of her hand on my shoulder through what's left of my shirt.

"So where am I?" I repeat.

"The tunnels. This is sector 8."

"The tunnels?"

"Yes. We're an underground society hiding from the drones."

My mind is too exhausted to process the significance of that. Don't ants live in tunnels? Aren't drones in Star Wars [science fiction?

"Ow..." I respond to my brain compounding my headache. "Can I just have a glass of water?"

"I would give you a gallon if I could. But water is so rare, it's almost like gold."

"Why is that?"

"The drones shut off the plumbing systems and they poisoned the water that's inside the pipes. So even if we broke the pipes, we woukd die from the water."

"Do you have any water at all?"

"Well, at first we used emergency water supplies that were in independent jugs, drums, and suxh. Some were in city storage, others were in private storage. But when you have thousands of thirsty people in a crowded spot, that ran out quickly."

The girl, I still don't know her name, continued, "Now we have 'water brigades.' They are search parties of about 30 men who search for any spot with clean water: wells, streams, you name it."

"I'm sure that's risky. If these drones are as ruthless as they sound, then they probably kill or capture anyone they catch outside, especially looking for water."

"You catch on quick," she observes as she giggles.

"I guess I recovered some of my wits," I reply with a wry smile. Now that I think about it, I'm glad to have this girl's company. With the outside world in ruins and the underground world being a jam packed dungeon, I realize that having this girl's sweet presence is a diamond in the rough. Now that I've cracked open my eyes and woken up, I notice that in spite of the raggedy clothes, she's attractive, with sparkly white teeth, sea blue eyes, auburun hair, and soft, fair skin.

Yes, she is a lovely face to wake up to. Something tells me this girl can be trusted.

"Well," she said after a pause, snapping me out of my thoughts, "I think I can do something about your thirst.''

She disappears to a room down the hall. She reappears with a small glass bottle.

"Is this water?" I ask

[note to self: she's an orphan. Her parents were killed by drones; she always had a crush on me and I never knew]

She giggles, "Of course it is, silly! But you can imagine it's something else if you want."

"How about champagne?""

"Okay! Cheers."

We both chuckle. I pop open the lid and gulp the  whole thing in almost one swig. It was probably about 8 ounces, but it was refreshing, satisfying and rejuvenating. Then a thought occurs to me...

"Where did you get that water?"

"No, don't worry where it came from."

"Listen... what's your name?"

"Kristy, short for Kristina."

"Well, Kristy, please. I want to know where you got the water. Please don't tell me that was your family's last bottle of water."

"Well, I don't have a family. My parents and little sister were killed in the Extermination."

"That's awful." I'm touched that she is sharing this tragedy with me. This is real. Not just a nightmare. I'm still confused about where the water came from.

"Kristy, be honest. Was that your last ration of water?"

"Well..."

"You can tell me. I won't be mad."

She timidly nods her head.

"May I ask why you're being so nice to me?"

"It's because before the Extermination, you..."

"Sector 8 water brigade REPORT!" booms a voice over the loudspeaker.

"What do we need to do if we want to join the water brigade?" I ask, my mind instantly changing subjects, focusing on survival.

"Report to the common area in five minutes. They'll tell you what to do."

"Okay. Thank you for your generosity. I'm joining them."

[Deleted portion: You'll need this," says Kristy, with a strain of concern in her voice. It's an old six short. "It was my dad's. You'll need it against the drones."

I didn't have the heart to tell her it would probably be like pitting a bb against a tank.]

"Wait," she says. She hesitantly opens her mouth to say something, but instead gives me a rabbit's leg.

"This charm was my dad's."

Touched, I hug her. She hooks me tightly abs embraces me like she might never see me again. What did I do to deserve this sweet treatment? I guess I can ask when I get back.

"Be careful, Aaron."

"I will." How does she know my name? That's another question that'll have to wait.

I pull back the latch and turn left, following the tunnel to the common area. The leader, about 6 feet tall, muscle, with salt and pepper hair (apparently in his 50s), booms to the crowd of men:

"Sector 8! It is our turn to collect the water for the community. Here are the plans for collection."

He takes out a nap and lays it on the table. A red circle surrounds a dot on the map.

"According to our scouts, this area has been unmonitored by the drones for days. We must grab as much water as we can before they return.

"Now that we know where to go, take out the water tanks."

Men scatter and take plastic tanks out of hidden compartments in the ceiling, wall, and floor. Clever.

"Now that you're all organized, you know the drill. You have 15 minutes to say your goodbyes."

I have a feeling as to why they would say their goodbyes. But to make sure, I lean over to a stranger next to me and ask,

"Why do we need to say goodbye?"

He gave me a funny look. "You must be the kid that was knocked out in the infirmary the past couple of days. The incident wipe out your memory, too?"

Oh, my goodness. Why haven't I thought of that until now? I can't remember anything past waking up today.

Chuckling at my bewildered expression, he says,

"Every time a brigade goes out, the drones kill or capture a few."

Being killed I figured. Why capture? I mean, why kill some and capture others? I guess that's a new addition to the long list of questions swirling in my head.

“Don’t forget to say your goodbyes, kiddo,”  says the stranger as he nudges me.

“ Oh, right. Thanks.”  I respond in a daze. Who could I say bye to? I don’t think I have any family. Close friends?

Yes! Kristy. We hardly know each other, but she is the closest thing to a close friend I’ll have. I’ll think about her on the excursion. Her kindness to me is ineffably priceless.

I run back to the infirmary.

She throws her arms around my neck before I even see where she is.

“I thought you’d leave without saying goodbye,”  she whispers softly through a choked-up voice. I’m getting the impression that she knew me before my memory loss.

Touched by her concern for me, I return her embrace. I whisper, “You’re the first one I thought of. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye and thank you.”

She hugs me tighter and I think I hear her whimper softly.

“You just came out of a coma. You need to rest and recover.”

“You just gave me your last bottle of water. I would be ungrateful if I didn’t replenish it.”

After a long pause, she hugs me again and says, “ Be careful.”

“I will.”

One by one we crawl up through what used to be a manhole covering. There are about 30 of us on this excursion When I get out, I see a kid wearing clothes that hang loosely on him, as if they were his dad’s. He must be a young boy because I don’t see any facial hair. My heart goes out to this kid because he must be the last man in his family, perhaps the last person. I walk over to him and say,

“Stick with me, kid. We’ll get you and your family’s water back home safe and sound.”

He timidly nods his head, avoiding eye contact with me. I don’t press for more conversation because I know he’s probably scared and is still grieving over what family he’s lost.

The leader--Mr. Bauers, I heard--signals for everyone to huddle around him.

“Remember, this is the unscouted area,” he said, pointing to the circled spot on the map again. “Go in groups of two. One person to pump water with the filter and into the jug, the other to bring the jug bag to the cart. The cart will be brought underground when full and added to the rations. The runner will take an empty jug back to his partner. Any questions?”

“When do we come back?” I ask.

“Until sunset or until I blow this alarm.”  Mr Bauers flashes his whistle.

“Anyone else? Good. Go in your teams and get water. Good luck.”

It was already clear the kid and I would be partners, so we joined up and headed out in silence.

We arrived at the stream and immediately got to work. After ten minutes of pumping, the jug was full. I gave my silent partner the empty jug. I lugged the full one back to the collection spot and got a replacement jug.

On my way there, I hear a high-pitched yell and a thud. It was too high to be a man’s voice. I dash like lightning to the stream. I see the hauntingly limp body of my partner. If that scream was from him, he must be pre-pubescent. A young man. A kid. Too young for this horror.

With my heart thudding in anxiety, I start to pick him up. As I bend to pick him up, I hear a quiet, fast whistle, and a sharp sting in my neck. The world around me seems to spin and warp. I’m about to vomit and faint. In my fading consciousness, I see robots swiftly running after men screaming in horror and running for their lives.

Those... must... be... the drones...

******************
The next thing I remember is exerting effort to crack open my eyes. Getting knocked out twice is a row takes a lot out of you.

The first thing I see is my bare feet, then my pants, with more holes than I remember. Then I wriggle my hands. I feel my wrists shift slowly in...

What are these? Circular metal. I’m in shackles.

I lean back and bump into someone. A fellow captive? I hear a gasp, as if I just woke this person up.

“Oh, no, they captured you, too?” inquires a panicky voice that sounds like...

“Kristy?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. And that jacket you’re wearing seems real loose.”

“It was my dad’s.”

“Wait, were you my partner in the water brigade?”

“Yes...”  she says timidly.

"Why did you risk your life like that? You could have died!”

"I didn't want to let you out of my sight."

"Kristy, why are you so concered for my safety?"

"Because I... I..."

After hesitating a moment, she rests her head on my shoulder.

"I like you, Aaron."

I shouldn't be shocked by this. I mean, why else would she nurse me, keep me safe, and give me the last of her water? But, for some reason, it never occurred to me that she had a crush on my. Perhaps more than a crush.

To return her sweet gesture, I rest my head on hers, feeling the warmth and enjoying the sweet smell of her hair.

I'm starting to develop feelings for the girl that had the guts to tell me how she feels about me.

"Please don't be mad,"  she pleads.

"Why in the world would I be mad?"

"Because last time I told you, you said flat-out that you didn't like me, that things wouldn't work out between us and that you liked another girl."

My memory was jogging, but I still had a lot of questions. I asked, "Who?"

"Cassy Saunders," she replies somewhat testily. "She was a constructionist--the people who were in favor of the creation funding and expansion of the drone project.

"She had beautiful black hair and hazel eyes. Everyone was in love with her. But I never understood why you were in love with her. You were an ardent preservationist. You wanted to destroy all drones, or at least get them out of the government's hands. You had so many heated arguments about it that I was confused as to why you lvoed her--especially when I told you that I would support you whole-heartedly.

That's it. My memory is coming back. I specifically recall a girl just like her who said, "Wherever you go, I'll go. I trust you." Why was I so blind to this girl's support, wisdom, and beauty?

"Kristy, I am so sorry."

"It's Ok, Aaron,"  as she reaches for my hand awkwardly through the shackles.

"I can't change te past, Kristy, but I will change the future. I needed to reboot my memory to figure it out, but I like you. You have been a sharp, unquestioning, loyal, and beautiful supporter from day one. I want to show you how much I appreciate that," as I squeeze her hand.

"Thank you, Aaron."

She timidly puts another question to me:

"Aaron, are we on a date?"

Now that came out of left field. Despite the fact that we're holding hands and cuddling as best we can, and despite the fact that we like each other, "date" was the last word on my mind. But now that I think about it...

"Well, I guess you could say that. We're alone, chatting, holding hands..."

She giggles.

"And we're laughing, so it's a date!" I affirm.

"Then I give you permission to kiss me when we get out."

"I will definitely take you up on that offer, Kristy." We both chuckle.

We hear a bang down the hallway. We ump up in shock, baffled by the sound.

Moments later, sparks start to fly from the door. They grind and sear through it.

"Please, no. Please, no," Kristy begs.

I feel her hands wrap tightly around mine.

My blood turns to ice and I think of the awful things our captors have in store for us.

The door swings open and pounds against the door.

"Get up!" A voice says. We obey the forceful order. The man behind the voice runs to us and takes out a vial. I grimace as I prepare for... I don't know what.

I hear a sizzle and I feel our shackles slide off. I'm not ready to think it's a good thing.

"We finally found a compound that we can mass-produce to annihilate the drones."

"Mr. Bauers?" I exclaim. "How did you get here?"

"I'll explain later. We have to run out before reinforcements arrive.

We are surprised at how fast he darts out of there, especially given his age. We try to keep up with him.

Along the way, we encounter limp, silver, human-shapped robots with smoke flowing out of bubble-shaped holes. One by one, men with water packs and portable pressure hoses join our race against the clock.

We dash through the rubble and out the hole they blasted in the wall. We expect lasers and darts at any second, but they don't. We make it to the forest and open one of the tree trunks back into the underground.

Mr. Bauers leads us to the debriefing room--right next to the commons area.

"Now, Mr. Jackson, I assume you have questions. Fire away."

Well, he already answeres two questions: 1) what my last name is and 2) whether he knows me.

"How did you find us and how did you get in?"

"The tracking bracelet on your wrist that we require all underground citizens to wear led us to you. Our compound liquified the drones, and dynamite blasted the walls."

"What is the compound?"

"Well, it's simple. It's called azure mort. We like to call it 'blue death.' It's from lilac sap and the poison that the drones put in the water supply. Th eonly problem is how to mass-produce it on a scale large enough to annihilate the drones."

He continues, "We were going to receive a messenger from another sector telling us how to do it, but he never showed up."

That's it! That's the final like in my memory loss.

"I know what happened to the messenger, Mr. Bauers."

"Really?"

"Yes. I was the messenger."

Everyone in the room is speechless.

"Well, what's the secret?"

"Frankly, it's impossible to 'annihilate' the drones as a whole."

"Well, that's encouraging," he responds somewhat sarcastically.

"But, there is one good thing. They are like ants. They don't think on their own. They are prgrammed to do what the 'queen bee' commands them."

"So there is an absurdly intelligent drone that we have to destroy?"

"No. Only one clever and sinister man: Alpheus Jackson."

"You can't be serious. Your father."

I nod my head.

"That's why I know so much. He tried making me a spokesman for his program. I was with him from the start. We built the drones together. At first it was a whimsical experiment. We dubbed it the "Prometheus Project.

"Once we realized they worked, we sold a few models to local police departments as bomb-squad robots. The police loved them because, not only did it keep the cops' lives safe, but also because they were easy to program. Once programmed, they could carry out orders with precision."

"Our prometheus robots were an easy sell to the military. The robots' human-like shape made them ideal decoys. They also loved how they could save lives by fighting our wars with precision and obedience.

"At first they sounded like the warriors of the future. Little did we know what we were setting ourselves up for."

He didn't have to say what. They all knew: The Extermination. The drones' prder to eliminate mankind.

"I could see it, though. I told my dad that if he kept expanding the program--amassing a drone army and doing away with human soldiers--we were setting ourselves up for merciless tyranny.

"When I told him that, he got a look iin his eye that I'd never seen before, He told me to leave his house. He must have been blindly drunk with power.

He said he would summon the drones. I jumped out the window right as they fired on my. I ran into the forest to dodge their fire."

[Kristy was my neighbor.]

"You must been the stranger who stumbled into sector 5," chimed in Mr. Bauers.

"Yes, that was me."

"What were you doing when we found you?"

"Secretly meeting with Cassie Saunders and trying to convince her to join us,"  interjected Kristy , with a tinge of jealousy in her voice.

[Actually, Aaron was probably trying to deliver the plans for mass production]

"That's right," I reply regretfully.  I foolishly attempted to convince her to help us. "The last thing I remember is last shots from the drones, chopping a nearby tree. I jumped but apparently got whacked in the head hard enough to black out my memory."

"My men and I heard the noise when we were collecting water. We ran over, sprayed the compound (I love watching them melt) and dragged you back. So, we have to kill your dad to stop these guys?"

"No!" I respond forcefully. "Just stop him and force him to reprogram."

Mr. Bauers added an interesting comment, "That look in your dad's eye you talked about?"

"Yeah?"

"I've seen it before. It comes from a device implanted at the base of the brain. They put it on disobedient soldiers as an experiment. It made the soldier obey with exactness. That was the precursor to the drone program. Your dad has been programmed. I know the real perpetrator."

"Who?"

"Travis Saunders."

"Cassie Saunders' dad," Kristy chimes in, this time with hurt in her voice.

"Travis and I were army buddies. [deleted: But he was dishonorably discharged for...] I always thought he was joking when he spoke of destroying the world, [deleted: like the old cartoon "Pinky and the Brain."] He wasn't kidding. He invented the 'obedience-implant. He must have put it in your dad's brain and programmed him. Travis is in hiding. He hasn't made himself known because he wants to feed off the chaos caused by people not knowing who's in charge."

He was referring to the drone annihilation of the White House, the Senate, and the House of Representatives.

"I know where Travis' fortress is. We just need the compound and some dynamite."

Synopsis of next part: drones melt, people shot, walls explode.Aaron's father found. He almost kills everyone in the room, but he is pinned down and the implant is removed. He eagerly shows us where Travis is. Mr. Bauers shoots him without another word. Cassie bursts into the room and puts up a surprisingly tough fight. Only Mr. Bauers stops her: he puts her in a headlock and cuffs her (does she have an implant, too?)

We reprogram the robots into becoming service robots.

We appoint father as preseident. Kristy and I get married. We live a difficult but peaceful life above the ground over sector 8. We dedicate ourselves to the reconstruction of our society.

[deleted: idyllic life; dedicate ourselves to our dream careerss: Me, author; she: nurse]