Book 1
THE BREAKING
PROLOGUE I: BOOSTER SHOT
14:17 LOCAL TIME 31 DEC 2038CE
1H43M UNTIL THE BREAKING
LONG BEACH CA
The overcast, drab, southwestern United States winter afternoon, was only overshadowed, by the shared amount of people walking through the streets of downtown Long Beach Califor-IA. A military-style humvee with the letters JTF printed on the side slowly moved through the press of bodies. People get out of the way with respect when they see the vehicle moving along.
Buildings were still decorated from the holiday season decorations, from Christmas trees that were still in many lobbies, next to Kwanzaa candles, and Hanukkiahs. The diversity of the city was on full display as the New Year's Eve plans were in full swing.
The roads were being blocked off by police, and traffic enforcement, in anticipation of the New Year's Eve parties, and bar hopping. There was a massive gaming convention at the Long Beach Convention Center, and the Humvee drove by with the passenger pointing out the point of interest for the other riders.
The energy was high in the city center next to the convention center, and downtown, but as the Humvee moved further away from the city center, the world started to change quite a bit.
Homeless tents line the sidewalk only a few miles from downtown Long Beach. The homeless people don’t look downtrodden though, on the contrary, most were already celebrating 2039, some even 2040, and all were just enjoying themselves for the most part. Most are in some state of drunkenness.
“There are quite a few local groups, and gangs giving out food, and drinks to them for free private Jones.” The passenger said to the driver as they waited for a lady and her dogs to cross the road. The passenger was a Hispanic man with three stripes on his shoulders marking him as a Sergeant in the JTF. “The community is very tight-knit, and between the local churches, government initiatives, local gangs, and the recent addition of Buddhist monks, no one was going hungry tonight, and hopefully that is a sign of what the new year would bring.” The Sergeant finished briefing his team.
“And with the gangs on a long-term cease-fire, no one was going to die tonight. Right Sergeant Concepción?” A female corporal with her name tag saying Smith said, she had a short haircut, with oversized goggles on as she scanned all of the gang members as they smiled at each other. She got information on all of them through the glasses database. They continued to hand out hot plates of food, cold bottles of water, and sodas to the people in long lines in preparation for the New Year's celebration.
The Humvee continued to drive a few more miles east, a line of disheveled, slightly skittish-looking people, standing waiting in front of an ancient-looking church. It had seen better days. The neighborhood was run down, with graffiti everywhere, but the church. The humvee parked and the three-man team stepped out. Another three-man team walked up to them and started briefing them.
“Sarge what up?” A black sergeant shook Concepción’s hand, his name tag said Knight. “Congrats on the promotion Tony, I see they gave you a green recruit straight out of basic. He looks scared.”
“I have had him for about a week, he is doing better with this mission, right Private Jones?” The Sergeant asked the young pale-skinned nineteen-year-old Jones from the Midwest.
“Always ready Sergeant.” The private Jones answered quickly still in basic training mode.
In front of the church were a few medical buses and tents, set up with huge banners stating ‘GET YOUR BOOSTER SHOT HERE!’ They were posted everywhere in the local area, along with other signs and pictures of people with bloody noses and ears. ‘IF YOU ARE BLEEDING COME TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE’ These were posted everywhere as well.
“It is really late in the game to be withdrawing man, I don’t know, we had to save like five people today, and one we had to...yeah well you know.” Sergeant Knight said sadly as he looked at his own tired fire team.
Concepcion looked at people standing and waiting. The line wrapped around the corner, it moved steadily, and efficiently. As people got closer to the front of the line, everyone seemed friendlier. They were just tired, and bored. Some had VR glasses on similar to Corporal Smith, some were on their phones scrolling through their social media pages looking up the latest Duster cell takedown. Some laugh, some smile, and some look like drones barely making it through their day-to-day suck. Over ninety percent of the people in line have at least one partner with them. Groups of people in the line converse with each other constantly, trying to combat the boredom. Both teams of JTF troops walk down the line greeting everyone as they go, trying to keep everyone engaged.
“Well, hopefully, you will have a nice chill day today. I could use a break.” Sergeant Knight continued as they walked with the other team.
“I have a good feeling about today Sergeant.” Private Jones said.
“Now why did you have to go and say that Private.” Sergeant Concepción said with a groan.
“Privates always tempting fate, somethings never change. But that is being a human right.” Knight elbowed his Corporal who nodded.
“I hate privates, were we that dumb when we were privates battle buddy?” Concepción asked Knight shaking his head at his new soldier.
“I wasn’t, but you were for sure.” Sergeant Knight laughed at Concepción’s facial reaction.
A few dozen people from the teams a man in a dirty, three-day-old suit, standing alone, grabbed his head suddenly. He yelped in surprise and fell to the ground. The people in line next to him noticed him immediately, and quickly backed away, concerned. One lady instantly screamed. “Help him quickly.” Another yelled pointing at him in a panic, voice lost over her stumbling back.
Others quickly echo the call for help. The man who was in obvious pain tried to hold back a scream as his left ear started to bleed a tiny trickle of blood. A few people’s eyes widened.
One young man just broke from the line and ran across the street almost getting hit by a passing car as it tried to swerve out of the way, The young man didn’t even notice, fear evident all over his face. The man didn’t even look back, he just kept running. He wasn’t the only one, over a dozen people bolted when the man started bleeding.
“He’s withdrawing. Help! Over here please, hurry it's progressing fast.” A young goth guy yelled next to him, his normally emo kid visage gone, replaced with a look of hysteria.
“Here.”
“Here!”
“Withdrawl!” More people continued to yell while looking for help.
“Oh my Goodness!” A black woman said covering her mouth and backing up in abject horror.
The bleeding man’s right ear started to bleed as well, and his screams grew more hoarse.
“It's happening too fast, he must have missed a booster or something, JTF hurry!”
The line became a semi-circle around the withdrawing man, with most people having different reactions. The man doesn’t notice any of them however, he is too busy rolling around in brain-melting pain.
“Oh no not again, not like this.” A late teenage girl, who had seen too much of this in her life, broke down, her boyfriend next to her, hugged her helping to support her as best as he could.
“Quick someone help him. Hurry please.” Another pleaded to the people around them as the withdrawing man tried to claw his brains out of his head, thankfully not finding any purchase because of his lack of motor control. His limps seem to have a mind of their own.
“Oh nooo.” The crowd said as this action started. His eyes started to bleed, the whole mood went from panic to somber in an instant as everyone looked at him sadly. The teenager lost the battle with the dam of emotions she was holding back, and started to cry heavy uncontrollable tears. Her boyfriend sat on the sidewalk with her, trying to console her. He broke down knowing what she was going through, what they were all going through.
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“It's too late for him sweetie.” The older black woman said holding back her tears. The man’s nose began to bleed. A drop at first from one nostril, then the other.
“Quickly everyone back up the JTF troops are coming.” An older man said. The crowd looked back at the man, then to the old man shaking their heads all thinking, ‘It's too late for him, unfortunately.’
The three-person tactical team ran up to the commotion. They had left Knight’s team to continue down the line, so they assessed the man very quickly.
Sergeant Conception yelled at the crowd. “Make room, make room people! We are trying to save lives here. You,” He pointed at a young kid who couldn’t get his mobile phone away faster than the others, “Yeah you, stop filming, what the hell is wrong with the people in your generation man, have some damn respect.” The older sergeant said rolling his eyes.
They pushed past the crowd, and he came up short, and wide-eyed.
The sergeant looked at the man on the ground bleeding from his ears, nose, and eyes. “God Damn it!” He yelled and looked at everyone. “Did we just miss it?”
The crowd nodded.
The sergeant shook his head. “He had to have missed two boosters or even three boosters, no way it should have progressed that fast.” He said frustrated.
He calmed himself and fell into leadership mode. “Why do we try to get here as fast as we can Corporal?” He asked academically, but tiredly while the man screamed silent screams of agony rolling on the floor.
The sergeant ignored him, not out of callousness, but out of policy. Lesson had to be taught, and learned. No one should be dying this late in the game. He understood not trusting the government, hell he worked for the government and didn’t trust it. Especially when they make the help mandatory. Any system that does not like to be challenged is a bad system. But people were dying, very public, and gruesome deaths. How could you not believe the pandemic exists?
The Corporal looked on sadly at the man thinking before answering. This type of scene was playing out in every state, in this country, and in every major city throughout the world. Many people waited until it was too late to get their booster shots or make up some excuse why they shouldn’t have to.
The world policy had become ‘If they die, they died.’ It was decided that too many resources were being put into mandates that didn’t work and forced people to choose sides. The world just allowed whole groups of people to overdose, or withdraw, because it was cheaper to clean up a bunch of headless corpses who had all gathered together, than tracking them all down just to fight them, and then clean up their headless corpses anyway. The corporal answered the question after a second. “Because every second counts Sergeant, If just one of his eyes weren’t bleeding, we could have saved his life. But he was particularly fast because he had skipped at least two boosters. If not more.” Everyone nodded around her, including her team leader.
“Correct, I hate this fucking pandemic. It makes men into monsters, and monsters into goddamn heroes.” He sighed exhausted, he turned back to the man on the floor. “Who’s turn is it?” He asked hoping it wasn’t him. This part was easy to do, but hard on the soul.
The new private put his hands up tentatively.
“M-me Sarge...Sergeant.” He said nervously with as much confidence as he could muster. Who could blame him? The next step was just... gut-wrenching.
Their team leader eyed him “You sure Private, absolutely sure? You botched it last time, and almost hurt yourself, I don’t expect a repeat performance.” He looked at him incredulously. They locked eyes.
The private stood taller, not flinching. He took in a full, deep breath. “Sergeant, yes Sergeant! I will not let you down, sergeant.” He yelled this time scaring everyone around him, well, everyone but the man on the ground rolling around in literal mind-numbing pain.
“You’re not doing it for me trooper...” The sergeant visibly deflated after seeing the private’s grim determination. “Alright, do it. Make it quick, we will watch you...” He looked like he wanted to say more, but there was another commotion further up the line, then another.
“We need a hazmat team here.” Sergeant Knight said as they moved to another group.
“Withdrawal, hurry help!” Citizens were trying to get the JTF member's attention.
“Fuck! Let’s move Corporal, do it quickly Private, hurry, and catch up as soon as you can. Don’t lallygag.” He ordered already moving down the line, to help the others as quickly as he could, seconds mattered.
There were two reasons why the JTF were the ones patrolling, and monitoring the booster line. They had the training, and more importantly, the stopgap medicine that could be used to slow down the progression of the withdrawal or Overdose symptoms. But when that failed they were the ones that had to put people out of their mystery before their heads exploded or in rare cases they rampage.
The private walked up to the man who had stopped writhing in pain, just lying in his blood and vomit defeated. The private wrinkled his nose as he slowly started to remove his cyanide pen. The cyanide pen was the only way to prevent anyone who was too far gone to be saved from having the side effect of their head exploding. It was a real problem, and much, more common than humanity had liked to see in the last decade. It was a mercy that humanity as a whole had signed off on after the massive mishaps that had happened early in the pandemic.
Then the disheveled man suddenly sat up straight as if pulled up by a puppeteer. The entire atmosphere around him changed immediately. It was palpable, the crowd all making an unconscious gasp.
“Huh, I feel, I feel alright.” He said more surprised and confused than anything.
“Oh shit!” The old man said, he then without another word turned, and tried to run, but his cane got tied up in his legs. He tripped and fell on his face busting his chin open and bleeding on the ground profusely. He doesn’t stay down too long though, even bleeding badly and all, he hurried to get up and continued to make his awkward exit. He was much more spry than he looked, but being terrified will do that to anyone.
“Better than alright actually,” The withdrawing man continued unaware of the crowd’s reactions. “I thought I was supposed to die. I feel so...powerful.” His eyes began to glow, the blood tears drying up and flaking off as he looked at his hands. The blood on his hands starts to bubble and boil.
Everyone near him covered their ears and fell to the ground, or started to run away from him screaming, as a high-pitched sound started to come from his head like it was a tea kettle that was going to whistle soon.
He looked up at them confused, his head cocking to the side. “What is wrong with you fools? Can’t you see it, they have been lying to us the whole time. I knew it, Look at me I’m fine, I have never taken a booster once in my life. And now... and now I know it was a scam the whole time, watching TV you would think that we become some type of monster if we don’t take the booster. We can survive this. We all can, we can thrive with it...” the man self-righteously stated.
The Private was now fumbling with his sidearm, knowing things had gone south quickly. He was trained for this scenario, but the reality is nothing not even training can prepare you for facing an empowered Duster in the flesh. The holster caught the hammer and fired a round into the private’s foot.
BANG!
“AHHHHH!” The private screamed and fell grabbing his foot. No one paid him any mind though, everyone on the floor had turned back around to look on in horror, at seeing the former withdrawing man’s head start to rapidly expand. The screaming private finally got his sidearm out of the holster through his pain and aimed it at the man, trying to complete his duty. He hesitated at what he saw, and that ultimately cost him his life. The man’s pure white eyes turn on the private with hate, and a red haze flows out of his eyes, ears, and nose. “Put that gun to better use.” The man said in a very different voice, almost demonic. The words resonated with private.
He turned the pistol on himself in his pain-addled state, unable to comprehend why. He began to squeeze the trigger slowly as tears ran down his face, just as the expanding head of the man exploded, spraying blood, eyes, teeth, and brain matter all over the nearest people.
A piece of the man’s skull penetrated the private’s brain, killing him instantly. His gun falls over next to him, right next to the cyanide shot, both unused.
Then the slumping bodies of both fall over next to each other. One headless, the other brainless as it leaked out the back of the private’s head.
The Sergeant jumped over the down crowd as he ran back to the scene. “Fuck!” He screamed loud and sad. “I hate goddamn privates! They are so fucking worthless seriously...” He looked at all of the blood, they lay in a puddle of it. “And I fucking hate this Dust pandemic!” He said angrily. He waved over a group after checking the body of the man and collecting the cyanide shot, and sidearm.
The group was a hazmat team, and they were dressed to match. Their job was supposed to be to clean up the bodies, and the blood, and collect the belongings of dead dusters. Today, they had to clean up the body of one of their own. “Clean them up.” The sergeant ordered, bending over, and taking the private’s dog tags. “Anyone who was hit by his blood needs to be quarantined until a team clears you. “Sergeant Knight can you handle that one for me? Take them to the Tents in the church parking lot.” He looked up at the windows of the church, they were stylish, but worn and covered in metal grates.
“I got you battle. Looks like we will be earning some overtime Troopers.” He said to his team of soldiers.
The sun was starting to burn away the rest of the mid-afternoon marine layer, so the light shining off of the church gave off warm colors for the cold hearts lying in the streets. The crowd got back in line around them as if this type of commotion was commonplace. Unfortunately, it was in the current world they live in.
About two dozen people picked out of the crown all covered in body fluids, and escorted them into the church parking lot.
The blood was washed off the sidewalk into the sewers, by the hazmat team. They are very efficient, cleaning up all of the blood, and brain matter quickly. The line had already moved well passed them by the time they were finished. The people passing by were not even aware of the violence that had occurred a few minutes prior.
Sergeant Concepción stood by the entire time watching the cleaning and body removal. He sighed and shook his head. ‘This is so FUBAR.’ He thought.
“Corporal Smith, make sure Jones’ shit is sent back to his family first thing after the four-day weekend, understood?“ He ordered.
“Yes, Sergeant Conception.” She immediately responded. “I hate this pandemic.” The Corporal echoed her feelings on the matter, eyes glazed over.
“Yeah, hopefully, it's a better new year. But as the man said this is part of being human right?” They both nod slowly.
In the sewers below, the blood mixes with the sewage, and a tiny dark purple glow starts to form. The purple light began to brighten as an eye with concentric circles began to grow around it.
(1H10M until The Breaking)