Operation Last Ditch Effort

Chapter 1.2: Little Black Pill

The red headed man limped as they made their way into the living room where Megan waited with tears filling her eyes. She covered her mouth trying to hold back sobs she desperately wished to release. A shiver went down her spine when the man with black hair touched her arm.

"Ma'am could you bring some water?"

His black hair, over gelled, made him look like a cheap plastic doll. The man's face look liked it had been through a meat grinder, with his once angular nose now smooshed and curved to right. His eyes seemed to notice everything but never showed emotion. His only human like action was the habit of constantly clicking his pen, which grated on Megan's nerves. His arm moved away from Megan and a slight smile edged at the corners of his mouth.

Who smiles at a time like this. Sick man. Megan thought to herself.

Megan left to the kitchen where she searched the white cabinets for a glass. The pale green and blue tile was spotless, glinting in the morning sunlight from the small window above the kitchen sink. Finding John's favorite glass that had a small chip on the blue tinged lip, she moved towards the sink.

As she filled the glass with water she thought to herself, I wish we had more time. More days to create new memories. It's not fair that I have to say goodbye for now, but at least I'll have this cup. The memories it carries.

The water spilled over the brim of the cup causing Megan to come out of her trance. Cutting the water off she poured some of the water out so that the cup was only about half full. She came back into the living room with her hand shaking as she held out the cup towards John.

The black-haired man spoke, "Do you understand Sir?"

John nodded his head and the red-headed man, handed John a small black pill. John took the glass of water from his wife's shaky hand and sat down in his old recliner. It creaked under his weight and the green material sagged.

John held the pill in his hand pausing as his thoughts spun, I'm not ready. Will she really be ok? I didn't wash the dishes or take the trash out last night. I have to pee. Why now? I don't want to leave. I have more to do. I wanted to write that book. Travel to Paris. There wasn't enough time. It's for the greater good, right? It's the only way.

He placed the pill in his mouth and took a sip of water. Megan knelt next to him, weeping, her hair falling into her eyes. John kissed her hand telling her that he loved her. He took in a breath, his hand went limp, his eyes closed and his body was still. Megan wept over him as the two men brought a stretcher to the chair. The men asked Megan politely to back away as they began to lift John onto the stretcher. The red headed man placed a white linen sheet over the body and as they began to roll the stretcher away the grieving wife followed them to the door. Neighbors looked on at the unfolding scene with their heads hung low. Seeing Megan's distraught features, a neighbor came to comfort her, holding her as the men moved towards the waiting ambulance. Megan's heart-wrenching sobs cut through the silence of the morning air. The men put the stretcher into their ambulance quietly and drove away.

It wasn't an unfamiliar scene to the neighbors who had witnessed the same fate time and time again throughout their own lives. An unfortunate consequence of an overpopulation, pollution, and disease. It was commonplace in the world now, the sterile medical ending of an elderly person's life. The balance had been restored, but the world was still divided. Over time Irvin James' plan was put into action in various countries, including the United States, China, Japan, Germany, Russia, England, and Brazil. Others resisted the change. In the beginning many tried to flee while others made the sacrifice hoping it was for the greater good. Eventually, children were taught from an early age that it was keeping the world safe. Now few resisted believing it was an honorable sacrifice.

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A woman with coarse dark hair leaned against the rusted bumper of the faded green jeep. Her black hair was beginning to show patches of gray and the skin around her eyes was starting to develop crow's feet. She wore a light jacket over her navy-blue top covered in white polka dots To match she sported a pair of faded blue jeans and white sneakers. The sneakers hid their age well looking almost new although they had been worn for years. 

She glanced back looking through the windshield at the two women bickering in the backseat. She shook her head as she turned to face the path ahead where the dirt road twisted behind the towering trees in front of her. The branches filled with bright green leaves swayed slightly in the wind giving off a creaking noise similar to an opening door. She closed her eyes and lifted her head towards the sun which peeked over the trees. She basked for a moment with a small smile forming across her smooth face. Her smile faded quickly as a tear slid down her cheek.

She thought to herself, Don't be stupid Jo.

Her brow furrowed as she shook her head and she hastily brushed the tear away like it was an unwanted disease. Jo reached into the inside of her army green jacket and fished out a dented flask. Checking that the women inside the vehicle were occupied Jo twisted the lid open took a drink. She shoved the flask back into her coat wiping her mouth before walking to the driver side door.

A full-figured woman with green spectacles leaned against the glass with her eyes shut when Jo closed the door. She was trying to ignore the woman next to her who was singing the same chorus repeatedly.

Giving up her plight to be the bigger person she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "June why do have to sing so loudly?"

With her head tilted the other woman replied, "Why can't you appreciate my singing, Norma?"

"Because it's not worth appreciating."

"Hmmphh."

June pouted her lips like a fish and slid down the seat looking like an overgrown child. Her dark curls were tucked behind her oversized ears as she sat with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed, and her face crinkled. Her arms were thin, making her look like a tree sapling next to her rounder companion. Norma sat back relaxed with a smile on her face as Jo sighed.

Sitting up June leaned forward to complain, "Joanie, Norma is being rude to me."

With a ting of sarcasm Jo asked, "How so?"

"She doesn't appreciate my singing."

"Really?" Joanie asked as she rolled her eyes.

June in a childlike manner nodded her head quickly. Joanie only shook her head as she took in a deep breath.

Norma spoke up, "Exactly Joanie, she's such a child."

Shifting her gaze to Norma, June quipped, "What?"

Jo turned in her seat with her mouth open partly giving June a look of disdain.

She paused before responding, "June, you're forty-seven, not seven. I shouldn't have to tell you that this is not something worth bickering about."

"But Joanie."

Jo held her hand up, "But nothing."

A crackling noise cut through a walkie talkie lying in the passenger seat.

A voice cut through. "Male, 65, John Garvey. Transport en route to The Mill. Phase One of Operation Last Ditch Effort underway. You are cleared to preform Operation Savior."

Joanie picked up the walkie and replied, "Ok, copy that. Over and out."

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