Free Awakening: Parables From The Apocalypse - Dystopian Fiction by Norman Christof

keeps getting stranger and stranger.”
     
    They pulled into the parking lot of the motel and waited.  No one approached the car right away.  They were parked facing the main road, but not much traffic passed by.  Five minutes later, a man in dark pants and a golf shirt approached the car.  Before he got too close, the driver rolled down his window and said,
    “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
    The man kept walking closer and answered in a gravelly voice, “I’ve got a message for Colonel Chaz Sheperd.  Any idea where I can find him?”
    “Yes, sir,” the driver said as he got out of the car and opened the rear door for the man, motioning him inside.
     
    The man took a seat and told the driver to wait outside as he closed the door.  As Chaz and the man shook hands, he said, “My name’s Rabban.  I’m the cultural grievances adviser to the regent, but it looks like today I’m just a messenger.”
    Chaz smiled and remarked, “I thought the regent got all her advice from a fancy computer.  Why would she need you?”
    “My position is somewhat unofficial in nature, but quite necessary.  Let’s just say computers are great at a lot of things, but when it comes down to people problems they need a little extra help.”
    “I see, so you’re a people person.”
    “Something like that.” Rabban smiled back.
    “So what’s the message, Rabban?  What’s so important that you need to meet me in a motel parking lot in the middle of nowhere?”
     
    “There have been some new developments in the mission.”
    Chaz turned and looked out the side window. “Yeah, about that mission.  I’ve been having some second thoughts, and I’m not so sure I’m the right guy for the job.”
    “That would be unfortunate, Colonel.  I’m not sure you’re objectively considering the circumstances.  After you’ve heard what I have to say, you may change your mind.”
    Chaz shrugged.  “Go on.”
    “It would seem there’s a potential lead on your old girlfriend Christa.”
    Chaz rolled his eyes.
    Rabban continued, “One of our body disposal ships disappeared in the Gulf of Mexico.  It missed its appointed delivery in New Orleans, and the search crews haven’t had any luck finding it.  The crews did some digging into satellite surveillance pictures from the area and found some rather disturbing images.”  Rabban passed a folder of pictures to Chaz and continued, “You’ll notice some of the images from a few days ago show four people on deck.  The crew manifest only lists three individuals working that ship.  One human captain, and two zombie workers.  We identified the two zombies on board through bio scanning of the images; the fat guy is the captain.  The fourth person looks like a young girl.  Her face doesn’t match any in our database, but time-phased images of what Christa would look like now match.”
    “There are probably thousands of kids that would match that description.  Why would you even suggest it could be her?”
    “Notice anything in common with all those pictures?”
    Chaz flipped through, giving them all a closer look.  “The girl seems to have no interaction with the rest of the crew.  They all talk or interact with each other, except for the girl.  It’s like they’re totally ignoring her.  Like she’s not even there.  Maybe they don’t like her.”
    Rabban pulled at his bottom lip.  “The guy running that boat is Captain Willie Molinere.  Bit of a hard-luck case.  He’s not fond of people in general, but he does have a rap sheet for harassing young girls.  Usually just waitresses and strippers.  Not likely he’d miss our friend here.  At the very least there should be some pictures of him giving her dirty looks from behind.  Instead, it’s like he doesn’t even know she’s there.”
    Chaz looked more closely at the pictures. “You’re right. She’s standing right next to him.  How can he not see her?  She’s looking at him, but he’s