Chester and the 24-hour Lottery

Two months passed with Chester living beside Spring Lake in perfect harmony with nature. Well, as harmonious as he could be, shooting rabbits and deer with the gun that immobilized prey so he could finish them off while they laid unconscious. He killed humans with his bare hands but when it came to animals was flat out squeamish. Running low on bullets he learned how to set traps since Garth and Deven stopped coming to check up on him while dropping off supplies three weeks after they buried Van in a neat clearing with a beautiful marble headstone Lacy had someone in Neighborhood Saldivar design.

Chester ruminated sitting in front of Van’s grave with the hot springtime sun beating on the top of his head that there were no longer proper names for the neighborhoods. He hoped one day to return to the city but for now, this was the place he needed to be. His friends were moving on, sometimes calling on the Virto-Frames and it felt good knowing they still helped others but were finding happiness for themselves.

After the funeral, Henry pulled Chester aside handing over a small info disc that fit a Virto-Stand and when he asked what was on it and he winked saying, “Your greatest hits. I loaded your time during the lottery and Van’s recordings.”

For ages he stared at the disc sitting on the table by the bed in nervous trepidation, wanting to see Van’s face once more, but afraid his heart would break all over again. Each day became easier being alone, relying on only himself, but he missed Van so much he didn’t realize emotions like these existed because he spent most of his pathetic life closed off.

Then he got over it, spending every evening viewing his time with Van on the Virto-Stand, laughing and wondering how she put up with his surly ass. The adventures they had replaying on the 3D hologram opened his eyes to the realization he’d fallen in love with her the night he stabbed the makeover artist and she’d taken it in stride, only chastising him for not hurting the ones who deserved his wrath.

Their affair had been hypersonic, beyond bloody and chaotic but when he finished the last recording knew Van loved him. It was there in the way she would watch him, smiles only he drew out and how she would affectionately slap his face after kissing his lips. She needed him as much as he did her back then.

He moped after running out of new ways to fill his days until deciding it was time to build a house. Henry brought supplies and together they built the frame for a one-room cabin similar to the one they camped out in on the run. Henry and Lacy fell into a relationship without trying and nobody had seen Racket since the day she slapped Chester with enough hate to burn the world down. He sometimes thought about what she was doing, especially after watching the footage but didn’t dwell on it.

“I’ll return in a week,” Henry said, dropping his tools in the back of the Jeep as the sun began setting on another warm day. Summer was weeks away and Chester looked forward to a dip in the lake after the man left. “Lacy wants to live in a nice house like those in Diamond and I promised we’d pick one out.”

He smirked, “Before you know it, you’ll be married with children. Glad you guys are happy.”

Henry chuckled, “We’re hopeful on the baby front, but I had to dispel notions of mutations because she’s a Construct Babe. Lacy’s perfect and our children will be too.”

Chester cleared his throat from the sudden hollowness in his chest, “Keep telling her that.”

Henry narrowed his eyes, “How are you doing out here? Really?”

He toed the dirt, looking away, “Some days are easier than others. I’ve learned a lot and yet there’s a feeling I shouldn’t be here. Like I’m pretending.”

“Chester, you can always come to stay with us. Any of us. Garth and Deven are at Fort Ozark right now but the Locket’s will welcome you.”

“Why are they at the fort?”

Henry took off his hat, rubbing his shiny head, “There have been random explosions all across the state. It’s a weird pattern and Garth’s making sure no one is in danger. They detain prisoners there.”

“Sounds like sympathizers,” he mused, “I expected more violence to be honest.”

“I suppose citizens just want to get on with life. The city’s teeming with people clearing debris, going back to work and reopening restaurants and shops. Rail-cars are on schedule and it’s wonderful.”

Chester grinned, “It is. It’s everything I hoped for and I’m glad they are rebuilding. Taking charge of their own destiny.”

“Catch you next week Chester, and remember what I said,” Henry slid behind the wheel, “Come see what you helped make possible before it changes so much you won’t be able to tell there was a war.”

Chester watched Henry drive away before stripping to take a refreshing swim. He floated on his back, staring at the perfect blue sky and wondered not for the first time if his mother was doing all right. Lacy volunteered to check on Marla but he didn’t want or need her in his life anymore. It had been an easy decision, but hearing citizens were overhauling Wayfarer City the thought she could suffer after-effects of the drug Spell gave her sometimes plagued his conscience.

He sat on a flat rock near his tent to dry off and stood on shaky legs when an explosion in the south, where The Institute and Saldivar’s old neighborhood was, broke the sound barrier. He covered his mouth in horror as multiple colors of smoke filled the once pristine sky then fell on his bare ass when the ground beneath his feet moved in an earthquake that shook trees and rippled the lake with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs.

“No, no, no!” He chanted, stumbling into his tent to dress, realizing the explosion had come from The Institute.

He took deep breaths to calm down, but his hands shook when pulling at the emergency container Van thought to include. He yanked on a hazmat suit and held the full-faced respirator and go-bag stepping back outside. The wind was not in his favor and dark smoke headed straight for his area.

“Racket!” he growled, knowing this was her fault. The crazy woman couldn’t let go of her past and now condemned everyone in the state and further to dangerous toxins.

Without a vehicle, he had no choice but to run to the Locket farm. By the time he reached it, the people there scurried around like rats trapped in a maze, pointing at the sickly darkening sky. Another explosion rocked his world in the North, where Fort Ozark was located and when he slowly sat up from where he’d fallen in the front yard of the farmhouse, he realized there was no escape.

“Help me!” A young girl he didn’t recognize fell at his feet sobbing, “What’s happening? Why are you wearing that suit? Did you do this?”

In horror he shook his head, looking down at the woman, “No! I have no idea, but I had this suit figuring it’ll become a new fashion statement real quick.” At her wild confused gaze after his lame joke added, “Won’t protect me long. It won’t protect anyone. Not now.”

The girl coughed, the whites of her eyes turning red the more air she sucked in. Chester quickly slipped on the respirator, backing away. Others in the area began coughing, flailing in pain and he choked back tears of uselessness, rushing to where the extra vehicles were parked. He let out a sigh of relief finding a maroon four-wheeler with the keys sticking out of the ignition not knowing how to drive it, but nothing would stop him from leaving.

Chester didn’t know where he was going until heading towards the old mobile park. The sky was a mass of stormy discoloration and he needed to get inside soon. There were other cars on the road and maneuvered around their panicked, erratic driving reaching the trailer ten minutes later.

He stood in front of the place he’d once called home feeling like it was years instead of months since he’s stormed out one fateful night, hating everyone and everything but the green-eyed girl who said she’d meet him in the courtyard. Slowly, he opened the rickety metal door and took in the interior. Marla had cleaned every inch, even replacing the sagging couch with a periwinkle colored settee. He stared at the ugly thing in confusion until someone whispered his name.

“Chester?”

He searched the hallway and there was his mother. She looked good — great in fact. She lost weight, wearing clean clothes with her hair neatly combed. He lifted the mask and gave a watery smile to her wide grin, words caught in his throat at the solace of seeing her well.

“It really is you,” Marla burst into tears, running to throw her arms around his shaking body, “There have been so many explosions! Do you know what’s going on?”

He sniffed and held her at arm’s length, “Someone destroyed The Institute and Fort Ozark. Soon, the air won’t be breathable. I expect the factories are next.”

Marla inhaled sharply, “I’m so sorry I mistreated you. You have no idea what losing your father did to me. I wasn’t prepared to take care of you when you returned and I can’t undo what’s done, but I love you. I’m sober now but that doesn’t change how I treated you, my sweet boy.”

He pulled her in for a hug, noting how frail and small she was, “Shh, It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does.”

“Forgive me,” she begged, staring at him with eyes that were his own muddy brown, “Forgive me, son. I need to hear it before…”

Chester struggled to deny the insinuation but knew what was coming so simply nodded and said the comforting words she needed, then dragged her down to the floor in the hallway where they could hide from the world as long as possible. They wouldn’t survive if the factories blew.

“I’m sorry you lost your girlfriend,” Marla whispered, and he looked at her in surprise, “Garth and Deven paid me a visit weeks ago, telling me how brave but heartbroken you are. You did amazing things during the lottery. I’m so proud of you. I wanted to find you when I learned you were alive, but they said you needed time. Did you love her?”

Chester closed his eyes, “I love her still. I think this is my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“I scorned another woman because I couldn’t see past my pain. She treats everyone badly, and I didn’t realize how she felt about me but it didn’t change my feelings. I think she is the one who organized this. She’s getting revenge for what they did to her as a child.”

Marla placed a reassuring arm around his shoulders, “You are not responsible for the action of others’. I’m living proof. Is there a way to contact her? Make her stop?”

He shook his head, glancing at the pack where his Vid Frames were, “She doesn’t want to be found nor will she stop. I tried mother. I tried to talk her out of this so many times, knowing how selfish she is. Should have killed her when I had the chance.”

“But you care about her, don’t you? You killed people but I know you’d never hurt someone you care for.”

He opened the bag and turned on the Virto-Stand. The stilled clip of the Construct Babes appeared from the day they stormed Allard. “This is Vanyla and Racket. They went through horrors I can only imagine and yes, I care about both women but Van will always be my one true love. She saved my life in more ways than I deserved but Racket wouldn’t wait for me. She doesn’t work that way.”

“They’re beautiful girls and I’m glad you experienced love like that.” Marla sighed, “It’s dark outside.”

Chester looked at the closest window seeing nothing beyond the black soot covering the glass, “I’m sorry too, mother. I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner.”

Marla cried again, so he held her while gazing at the wavering image of Van.

Boooom!

The trailer rocked with the latest explosion, threatening to roll, but to his dazed amazement remained standing. Marla screamed when the windows blew inward and sought to protect her the best he could, feeling scrapes along his backside before the trailer exploded, tearing her out of his arms.

He couldn’t breathe right when his senses came back. Somehow he landed in a corner, unharmed and somewhere in the swirling darkness that was his new world Van’s voice echoed. He heard her steely tone saying what he knew she would do while finding his mother lifeless, a long piece of wood speared through her twisted torso.

The respirator laid intact next to Marla’s body, and he roared at the top of his lungs at the injustice of it all. At the fact he lived while everyone he loved was dead or dying. Chester wanted to lie beside his mother for the unavoidable end but Vanyla voice repeated orders once more in the oppressive darkness.

Blood dripped from cuts on his back and arms and the protective suit hung off his frame in shreds. Chester plucked the breathing mask from the rubble knowing it was a futile attempt but never denied Van anything.

“Get up.” Van said with chilly fortitude, “Don’t look. Get up, Chet.”

* * * * * *

The end