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by Caffy
Rated: · Other · Sci-fi · #942012
a dim look into the future...
Just a Pleasant Walk
Written by Paul Cacchione

John Miller was walking down his dead street. In fact, his whole town was dead and no one was in sight and this was how it always was. The whole planet was dead with no one around to walk and enjoy it. All the people were inside, always inside. No one was ever outside . John Miller couldn’t take into account how it happened

A man came to power and turned the United States’ usual political party of democrat or republican to a dictatorship. It was long and hard road but the man did what others thought to be impossible to be done. He did it. This man’s name was Charlie Barret. Charlie Barret got a little power hungry, in fact for a while it seemed insatiable. His greed seemed eternal. Soon in the year of two thousand and five it did come to an climax when he actually dominated all seven continents and he managed and controlled them all. For a long time he couldn’t control and enforce law until he assembled an army full the worlds best and brightest soldiers. They infiltrated the world slowly and stealthily.
The unit was identified as the Hoshal , they were notorious for pitiless castigation and unpractical sadism. Their first rule was unquestioned loyalty to their leader, Charlie Barret and their second rule was ruthless aggression against all rebels and resisters. The usual ending scenario was the disappearance of those kind of rebellious prisoner of freedom
The Hoshal had devastated and shattered many cities, the people and their lives. The world was in ruins and was slowly going rock bottom, but like a snowball going down a hill, it just grew and generated. Some citizens and people lost their manners and good natured background and started to gather in groups and rebel against the local authority. Charlie Barret had to think of something immediately to not only reign the people and their people lives , but also make them content.
By the year two thousand and six Charlie Barret with the aid of a scientist named Erwin Banek had made a device to do all of what Charlie Barret had expected, it gave a new bane to a worn-torn world.
Charlie Barret called the contraption the Pathfinder. The Pathfinder was a bed, with a strange looking set of tanks. One of the tubes was very larger than the other with a tube connected by a needle. The other tube had a hose attached to it. The small tube was marked PROVISIONS. This was used to feed the occupant of the Pathfinder with food supplements to their body being undisturbed. The central explanation that they stayed ceaseless was because the occupant was being sedated at all times by a needle via the other tube filled with a gas. This was marked FANTASY. That was a gas that had both subdued and gave the occupant the world at there finger tips. Somehow whatever the occupant had contemplated and brood over would come true, but it was just a dream. The occupant of the Pathfinder had whatever they wanted but it was a hallucination, and a counterfeited realism.
Charlie Barret had introduced the machine to one country at a time and soon the people were either fascinated and spellbound by the Pathfinder and evaluate the newly discovered machine. The most conquered place was South America. The whole entire population gathered to view Charlie Barret and the Pathfinder. He stood upon a podium with microphone booming his voice to thousands and thousands collected in the area. As Charlie Barret when on public tours talking about his machine Erwin worked relentlessly on making more Pathfinders. Charlie Barret spoke deceit and fraud , “ You and your family or friends will all be elated to be a part of the Pathfinder. You have happiness and world at your fingertips. The sky is the limit and so your imagination is the only law. Just think of it you’ll never have to feel sad or out of place. The world you’ve always vied for is now yours solely. ” Charley Barret always smiled when he finished his speech because he knew he had gotten their approval. Now the Pathfinder was in almost every home and soon Mr. Barret had made it a law for ever individual, no matter the age to have a Pathfinder.
Everything Charlie Barret had said was true, it gave you whatever you wanted. The only catch was that it was a dream. It was a fake life, just a delusion. Many people didn’t care to sacrifice their lives to have total and inclusive happiness. While the sedated people dreamed away a smoke and mirrors life he Hoshal replaced the tanks on a regular basis to keep the people of the world sleeping. Once a while a few people would escape, some where allowed to be interrupted from Pathfinder to keep the Human race going. The ones who weren’t designated to be withdrawn and did flee were branded as Radicals.

John Miller was a radical. The Hoshal had scanned the city regularly when they replaced tanks and they looked for radicals. John Miller had been a radical for seven months now. He didn’t want to go and live a life that was only a sham. Secondly, if John Miller was in control of the Pathfinder he would have no idea what would happen around him when he was sedated.
At night John Miller went for walks in, it was always dark. That way he could hide if a Hoshal may have found him he could hide and be stay concealed when they sprinted to apprehend John Miller. John Miller had taken a big risk by doing this because now Charley Barret came up with idea of using paddy wagons to capture the radicals, and put in the Pathfinder.
John Miller walked down the silent street. He wore a black over coat and a black hat, something that a member of a mafia would wear, black pants and black loafers. He was thirty six and never hated something as much as the pathfinder. With the Pathfinder in control all things didn’t really exist like money, cars and all sorts of regular entertainment .His shoes clicked on the road as he walked. The swishing of his pants seemed to echo in the air. Leaves blew across the street as a tumble weed went through a ghost town in the old west.
A blinding cone of light had materialized from a paddy wagon and John Miller had been captured in it. Now he was caught as a radical and he may have to go back to being in the jail he dreaded the most, the Pathfinder.
A tall and build black man named Jason Valentine had stepped out with a tiny partner that looked like baby child. The partner’s name was Michael Mephidos.
Jason Valentine pointed the extremely blinding light at John Miller. His strong eyes were now tortured by this unexaggerated , and inane light. “Excuse me sir, you are in direct violation of code twenty-seven section 8. What are you doing ? “
John Miller knew he wouldn’t weasel his way out of this predicament, “ Just a pleasant walk.” John Miller had said as his breath became visible as he spoke and breathed.
Jason Valentine looked at him for a split second, just measuring up John Miller, “ I’m sorry sir, but your gonna have to come with me and Officer Mephidos.”
John Miller didn’t want to go back, and tried to run. He didn’t get any more far than two sprint before Valentine grabbed him and with the support of Mephidos dragged John Miller to the back of the wagon. John Miller was kicking and screaming like a little kid in a candy store. They threw him in the back with some girl. The girl looked like a radical just by her dress code. She wore a black dress with black tights with black boots.
John Miller was hurled in the paddy wagon by the Hoshal soldiers, Valentine and Mephidos and all he was trying to do was enjoy a pleasant walk.
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