Author: Jo Peace
We always learn things too late.
I remember the pine smell, the urgent fear as I hurried to assemble the close-in defense unit before the drones reached our position.
A young voice snaps me back to the present. “Dad, why do you live alone in the mountains? Is it because people tease you about the serious?” That was part of it, for sure – people can get surprisingly mean about things they don’t understand, and surprisingly controlling about things that hurt no one. But also, I needed to stay close to the last functioning “serious”, as they called them. I just got tired of explaining they were much more than just a pile of spare parts. “Dad?” -“Sorry, I got lost in thought.” I take her in a big hug, like when she was little and we all lived in the village. “I missed you so much!”
“It’s very nice of you to visit your dad, Libby. I don’t think I could survive here if you and your mom didn’t visit now and then. What brings you to the area anyways?” -“Oh daddy, house power broke and hubby said his pals found a functioning unit! Since we were close I thought I’d come by.”
Just on cue, her friend Jack comes by. “Hello mister Humpfrey!” His clothes are dirty and oily. I wave, then go in the tent to prepare some tea.
As I am arranging cups on a tray, I hear a commotion outside. “Fireworks!” I rush out and I see tracers glowing in the evening sky, then a ball of fire. I can make out two more drones passing through, towards us. I haven’t seen them so aggressive since…
-“Wait, Libby, where did he find that power source exactly? Not in a CIWZ… right?” There was nothing for miles, family after family had dismantled everything they could find. Except for the one I had been maintaining all this time, our last functioning defense. “Not in a shallow dig by an old pine tree?”
Libby’s face grew red. Jack shrugged. “So what? Those old machines never do anything. They’ve been broken for decades.”
“Yes son, unless someone cares enough to maintain them”, I think. My blood turns cold at the realization of what they have done. That was the last CIWZ, the one I dedicated myself to carefully maintain for decades, sacrificing time with my family. It also meant I couldn’t continue trying to educate the tribe in maintenance and the invisible dangers. I had given it my all, but they were more concerned with their immediate survival needs.
“More fireworks!” Another ball of fire as a second wave breaks through the coastal defenses, ten kilometers east. Nothing remains to block their way, and I’m the only one left who understands what that means. My wife is out in the village, exposed. Libby’s husband is there too, and almost everyone I’ve known in the past decade.
I could run. I could hide. But I realize that even if I survive despite the long odds, my life would be pointless with the rest of the village dead (or the livestock we rely on). They didn’t know they needed me, and I didn’t know I needed them. We always learn things too late. Libby needs her husband, and I need my wife. At least she won’t experience the dread of knowing certain death is flying towards her.
The tray is still in my hands, the drones are maybe two minutes away now, the kids still unaware. Tears blurring my vision I turn to the three kids. “Who wants tea?”