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My name is Matt. I'm 27 years old. And my family is going to die.
All I know is that I am 'special' and they
are not. Do I feel bad for them? Yes and no. Yes, because they are going to die. No, because I am going to survive. At
least, that's what I hope.
For the last few months, all I've done is remember. All I can do is remember. I think
about my past and how it's affected everything I do.
I'm the oldest of three - my sister Alana is 12, and my brother
Marty is 8. My parents, Luke and Cynthia, have been married for 28 years, minus six months three years ago.
I was
raised in Timberham. It was a 'city' - if cities have 40,000 people - populated with rednecks, housewives, and teenagers.
We were the biggest town - cities have 100,000+ people, dammit! - for a good four hours. So, every weekend, farmers from
the area invaded the town and spent their hard-earned cash. Everyone else carried on their usual routine - going to the mall
for five hours to buy $5 worth of junk and gossiping at the local coffeeshops. That's it. There were a couple of major industries
in town, mainly agricultural-based, so when the farmers got hit, the town took a bigger hit.
Life had been going
fairly smooth up until the announcement. I had a steady job, a girlfriend, a good relationship with my family, my own house...
I was reasonably happy.
I picked up the paper one day to check out the scores from the night before. I didn't even
notice the headline on the front page until I put it in the recycling box.
DEATH TO ALL
1,000,000 to Survive
- Rest Will Perish
Chosen Ones Unknown
Reasons Unknown
From what I could gather, everyone was going
to die in a mass 'suicide' - really a mass murder - soon. The entire world was going to gather in large buildings and go
peacefully to their death.
There were a few lucky souls - 1,000,000 to be exact - who were selected to survive, but
they were chosen based on some specific trait or quality, but no one knew what exactly. No one knew how they were chosen,
but they were. Most spread what they thought was the knowledge of survival to their family and friends, but I kept what knowledge
I had to myself. If I didn't know how I was chosen, how was I supposed to tell anyone?
I didn't tell anyone close
to me that I was chosen for a long time. I was notified three months before the big day. My parents said they hoped that
one of their children would be chosen. They kept saying that they were old enough and had lived their lives, but I knew that
they hoped they would get the notification.
The news came out and within two weeks, all of the chosen ones got their
messages. Everyone I knew spent hours pouring over mail that they'd received just in case it was disguised as junk mail.
Word eventually spread that the notices would be spread by email.
The day I got my notice, I was fighting with my girlfriend.
"Geez,
Jessie. Just get over it."
"Matt, for the last time, I don't care how tired you are - I want to have a baby. And
the only way we can do that..." Her hand wandered down and down. I hated it when she tried her same-old-shit seduction crap.
"Look,
Jessie. I want one, too. But you have to realize that I'm not making a lot of money right now. Hell, I'm more broke now
than I've ever been in my life." Owning two fledgling restaurants was a dream, but if money grew on trees, I'd be a giraffe.
"Well,
just ask your parents for the cash. They're loaded." Jessie, sweet Jessie, was a stripper - was being the imperitive word.
She's been trying to leave that life behind since I met her, strangely enough, in a strip club. Maybe it's not that strange.
"They
may be loaded, but I already got my share and I'm not going back for seconds. I've been doing that to them my entire life.
No more. I'm a big boy now." I knew that if my parents got wind of Jessie and I trying to have a baby, they would hit the
roof. They, along with Alana and Marty, hated Jessie. They wouldn't talk to me if they know she's around.
"But, Matty..."
Her hand was on my zipper. I hate to say this, but I knew if I didn't do something soon, I'd regret it for a long time.
"No.
Jessie, get off of me and leave me alone for a while. Go shopping. Go get your nails done. Go away for a while."
"Well...
fine. Be that way. Fuck you." She slammed the door on her way out and I laid on my couch for a while before I headed to
my computer.
The email was vague and kind of bizarre. No details, really. Just a basic letter that said I was chosen.
To:
lambboy@hiddentreats.com
From: theone@saved.com
Subject: You have been chosen
Dear Mr. Matthew Pickert,
Congratulations
- you are one of 1,000,000 people to be chosen.
The reasons for chosing you are simple. In recent months, you have
been surveyed by our team of experts and have displayed the essential requirements we have set for this program.
From
this point on, you must not inform anyone you have contact with about your selection. Failure to do so will result in banishment,
legal reprecussions and/or fines.
Someone from our organization will be in touch with you in the coming weeks to inform
you of what arrangements must be made, what items you are allowed to bring, and procedures for transport to the safe-house.
We
wish you and yours the best in the future, Mr. Pickert.
Thank you.
Bill Hanson, President, Saved Inc.
I
felt bad for not telling anyone close to me - my family, friends, people I generally liked - but I figured that if I was 'smart
enough' or 'had the right qualities', and they didn't, they were the ones who were shit out of luck. I remember getting emails
from some friends a few days before the Final Day. They told me that they were going to go hide out in the valley and hope
that the caves there would protect them from whatever would rain from the sky. A few other people I knew just up and killed
themselves. I got a letter from one friend who did that - all he said was 'I'm not waiting around for the unknown. And there's
no way I'm going to be sacrificed by someone else for the betterment of a few. Fuck you all.' Seemed to sum up all of his
feelings quite nicely.
For the week leading up to the Final Day, I spent all my time with my family and friends. My
friends and I went on one last bender for a couple of days, trying to relive our youth. It was fun, but there was always
this feeling of despair and hopelessness hanging over everything.
"Hey, guys. A toast."
"Oh, man. Drew, sit
down and shut up." I was at a local bar with five of my friends I'd managed not to alienate since high school.
"Matt,
why do you always have to be the downer? Geez" Drew was a childhood friend who'd been born into the perfect life - money,
good family, lots of girls, good college, great job. And now, he was bald. Revenge for perfection.
"Sorry, man.
It's just that this would be our what, tenth one tonight?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Ah, nothing. Go ahead."
"To
all you guys. Thanks for being there through thick and thin. Thanks for putting up with the shit. Thanks for keeping secrets.
And, most importantly, thanks for making sure that we all survived."
"Cheers!"
I sat there in silence making
the obligatory raising of the glass, thinking back seven years.
"Matt, oh, shit, sorry. Didn't think."
"No,
it's no problem. It was a long time ago."
"Yeah, man. Sorry." The other guys looked at the table, at their drinks,
at the wall, just to avoid looking at me.
"Whatever. Hey, next round's on me."
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