Prometheus Dystopian Trilogy Box Set

Chapter 1-3

For the first time, I saw this border so close. Before, I’d only flown above, observing it from the safe distance of a plane, wondering what horrors lay beyond—a wild wasteland, geographically divided into Areas. Everybody who left for the Areas and decided to live outside the Global Order would be delivered into poverty and ancient laws. My mind was flooded with the pictures I regularly saw on the news of chaos, crime, and death that ruled this terrible place.

The car approached the border, and I slowed down involuntarily. We were about to cross to the Neutral Zone that lay between London and Liverpool. Maybe the drones roaming it might see me, maybe I still stood a chance to get out of here alive.

In the rear-view mirror I saw one of the youngest boys taking out a device that looked like a black metal stick. He unfolded it and prolonged it into an antenna, then pressed a button. Nothing happened except that it emitted a soft, high-pitched tone. The border came closer. What was this device for?

“As soon as we pass the border, you push the gas pedal, understood?” my captor commanded, and stung me with the weapon. I nodded.

The metal pillars seemed to grow like menacing signs, warning not to drive any further. Was this really happening? The whole ride seemed like a dream, too far away from my reality. Last night’s party seemed so far away. I thought about the raw pleasures of that night, the alcohol, the dancing, the beautiful woman I came home with. I allowed my mind to drift into how she had felt, the taste of her skin and her lips. My head buzzed. If there ever was a next time, I should drink less. A vain resolution. I yearned for the calmness and solitude of my apartment, the dark marble floor that reflected the dim lights, the hot black coffee. But the nightmare was not ending yet.

A red exclamation mark flickered before my eyes, warning me that I approached a danger area. The closer we came, the faster it flickered, tensing my nerves. I could not switch it off by blinking.

As we approached two of the glittering monsters, the invisible wall lit up for a split of a second, and opened up before us like a curtain. The device interrupted the signal. I stared in unbelief, mesmerized by the view while we drove right under the curtain and it gently closed behind us. If the terrorists possessed of such a thing, they could easily cross the border back and forth without a chip. But a signal interruption could not go unnoticed, could it?

The boy folded the device in a hurry.

“Drive!” the passenger yelled at me. I pushed the metal, and the Tesla accelerated to a speed I had never the opportunity to drive before. We flew through the streets of the Neutral Area that looked like no-man’s-land. My lenses became non existent. No warning signs. My brain received no wireless connection. We were off the grid now, in a place of nothingness.

My captors kept looking back and forth. They feared that a drone would detect them, following the interruption signal from the border. That’s why they needed to get as far away as possible. We rushed by broken-down houses and ruins of a city that once stood here. Some people dressed in rags stood at the side of the street, warming their hands in the fires they made by the houses. But we drove too fast for me to see more. The Neutral Areas were said to be roamed by criminals and burglars, psychopaths who sought to escape judgment.

“Stop,” the front passenger suddenly uttered.

I glanced at him.

“Stop!” he yelled, and I hit the brakes. He signaled with his head to the left, a former driveway that had become overgrown with moss and trees. I hesitantly drove in while the Tesla was scratched by the branches.

So this was it. I was of no use anymore, was I?

As I dismounted, the shape of the borders broke the horizon in the distance. This was all my fault, it occurred to me. If I just had passed by Trafalgar Square, driven to the hospital as I was supposed to, I wouldn’t be here.

Two guns stared at me as I walked around the car. As I walked, I made another decision. I would kill those bastards or die trying. For all I knew, they were responsible for this terror attack. It was my duty to at least try, if today was my last day, anyway. So I tore my thoughts away from the fear of imminent death and concentrated them on the attack. I closed my eyes and forced my mind into ecstasis. Fall down into the well of darkness, stop thinking, and just follow the instincts that guide you. That’s what they told us in Special Forces Training. It had been years ago, but I’ve been using the technique as a doctor ever since. As I began to fall into ecstasis, time slowed. I predicted my captors’ steps, sensed their movements behind me. Another breath. Now.

I turned around with full speed to use the moment of surprise, estimating bullets to fly at me any second. But they didn’t, and it took me off guard. Why would they not shoot me? I attacked the one closest to me, the boy with the gun, smashing my fist into his belly and then his head. Those movements came naturally, I had rehearsed them night and day in military training. He staggered back, trying to stay conscious. But no shot came. Instead, seeing that I would overwhelm him, he threw his weapon away so I would not use it. It was my only chance. But now, the wardrobe-man came running at me. My anger rose, and I started to hit the boy hard. He went down. As the bearded man approached, I attacked, but it was in vain. He overwhelmed me with ease, threw me to the ground. The metal stick hit my head, and the world turned black.

I remember thinking in those last seconds that life was a funny thing. Ironic, at the best. The whole day, I was trying to save other people’s lives. By the end of that same day, I would be the one who died. I was not completely wrong then, I guess. To a certain extent, they took my life this day.