Dystopia

 -Chapter 1-

"Hello! Is anyone there?," I yelled, as I pounded on the large metal door, like an officer of the law demanding an answer.

It's been over five years now since there was any actual law enforcement. I stood in the hot sand, embracing the scorching feeling on my feet, for it meant I was still alive. I beat on the metal door again, hard enough that it hurt my fist this time. "I have gasoline for trade!" After a long moment I heard footsteps from behind the door getting closer. My heart beat began to quicken and the hairs on my arms raised in unison, telling my brain that danger lurked behind the door. The vultures above me in the sky circled over the fenced in community as I stood at the gate, hoping to trade the gasoline I brought. I stared up at the vultures for a second, as they flew in front of the burning sun, catching glimpses of their tattered feathers. Did they know something I didn't, I thought to myself?

   "What do you want!" Came a gruntled voice from behind the metal door.

   "I need food! I have gasoline for trade." I answered with disparity in my voice. The man started to quietly talk to another person behind the door. I couldn't understand what they were saying. All I could do was pray that they needed my gasoline.

   The man yelled back, "We don't want your gas, we have plenty! Now beat it before we release the dogs!" The man began to walk away and his footsteps got quieter. I had to say something. I was going on my fifth day without food. My brothers at home were going on three days. We needed the gasoline for our generator, but we needed food now more than ever.

   "It's pure! It's the best gasoline around! It's not watered down, I promise!" The footsteps stopped suddenly. I heard the two voices talking again, more faint this time. I could only hope they were reconsidering. The footsteps started again, getting closer and then my prayers were answered.

   "Ok, we will let you in to trade for thirty minutes, then you're to leave without any trouble. And if you're lying about that gasoline, you will find out what we do to liars, and our guard dogs will not be so hungry today!"

   Suddenly I heard locks being undone and chains falling to the ground. I heard a metal bar grind against the door as it was slid out of it's holding place. The hinges creaked loudly as the door slowly crept open inward. I caught the eye of the disgruntled man as I stepped into the doorway.

   "Thank you so much! I will not cause any trouble." The man eyed me with a contentious look, as to read me like a book. No wonder he was the guard. His dirty face was rough, with a faded gray beard, chiseled jawline and curly, matted hair. His canvas vest and leather chaps gave him a look of authority.

   "The food market is down there to the left." He pointed toward the west where a crowd was gathered. There were people yelling over each other and pushing to get in line. I headed toward the crowd with the gas can clinched in my hands. I put my left hand on the necklace that hung around my neck and slipped it under my collar so no one could grab it and run. The heart shaped locket was a gift from my mother. It contained the last known picture of my father. I vowed to keep it safe until I could hand it down to my own child, Lord willing I could have the opportunity to find a wife some day.

   "I won't let you down mom," I whispered to myself as I got closer to the booth where I could see fruits and vegetables displayed on the tables. As I approached the man behind the tables, the crowd stopped talking and everyone looked at me, whispering to each other and pointing at me nonchalantly.

   "How can I help you young man?" Said the raggedy old man behind the table.

   "I wish to trade this gasoline for some food," I muttered as I set down the gasoline on the table next to the man. He popped the cap and took a long whiff of the gasoline as his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and glared at me.

   "You wouldn't be trying to trade watered down gasoline now would you?"

   "No sir," I answered back as I shook my head no, "this is pure gasoline, I promise." My heart began to pound as the man stood quietly, looking at me like a judge upon his throne, thinking of slamming down his gavel.

   "Hmmm, pure gasoline you say." He began to rub his chin as he gazed over the fruits and veggies. "I'll give you three pounds of fruit and three pounds of veggies for your gasoline. Take it, or leave it"

   "I need more food than that sir. I have brothers at home and my mother is sick, she needs enough food to get better so we can travel to the great commune."

   I heard people start to whisper to each other when I spoke of the great commune. I put my hands back on the gas can to protect it. "Give me double that and you have a deal!" I said with authority in my voice. The old man looked at me and saw my necklace shimmering in the sun.

   "Hand over that necklace too and you have a deal!" He smirked as he continued to rub his chin. I couldn't do that, this was a family heirloom.

   "I'm sorry sir, but this necklace was a gift. It's not for trade" I grabbed the heart shaped locket and held it in my hand. "Please sir, can you give me perhaps ten pounds of food for the gasoline?" I sounded so desperate, but these were desperate times indeed. I tried to give the man a look of sorrow in my eyes, and I know it pierced his heart. He dropped his hands down from rubbing his chin and sighed.

   "Ok... If it's pure gasoline like you say it is, then I suppose I could give up ten pounds for it. But I want the gas can as well." I nodded back at him in agreement. "Here, take this basket and collect what you need. Meet me here at the scale behind me when you're ready." I sighed in relief. I took my hands off of the gasoline container and the locket and grabbed the basket. I gathered up some tomatoes, cucumbers and apples. Mom loves apples. My brothers like cucumbers and I am a sucker for tomatoes myself.

   I walked over to the scale where the old man was waiting for me. I handed him the basket and smiled at him. He was too busy rubber necking back and forth from the crowd to the scale to notice me smiling. He was glaring at the crowd, anticipating someone to snatch and run with an apple or something from the tables.

   "You just can't trust people these days. Everyday someone tries their hands at stealing from me! Well not today!," He said while he worked the scale and kept gawking back at the crowd. "You're one pound over kid," he said sternly as his eyes finally met mine.

   "I'm sorry sir, I thought it felt under ten pounds. I'm not used to weighing food with my hands."

   His eyes softened as he looked at me, "well, I tell ya what, don't worry about it. I can tell that you're a man on a mission and you're doing a good thing." He put the food in a burlap sack and handed it to me and smiled back at me. "Here ya go kid." Just then his smile faded and he skipped over to the tables as people began to mingle and cut in line after each other all over again.

   I slung the sack over my shoulder and headed back towards the front entrance while observing the other booths that were all set up in a circular fashion. The market, if you could call it that, gave me the feeling of being at a loud, high intensity stock options trading center, with papers flying through the air and people shoving each other to get their trades in before the buzzer goes off. That was a time many years ago and now, after the great culling has started, society has crashed. The government has tried enforcing martial law in bigger cities and riots are an everyday part of life. This little gated community resembled a smaller version of what's happening out in bigger parts of society.

   I continued to walk to the front entrance door when I noticed a man sitting in a chair by the big metal door. He had to be the man that was talking to the guard behind the door when I knocked. He looked sly and sinister, with a cowboy hat and dark hair. He had beady eyes and a pointed nose. When I got close enough to hear them I noticed that they were quietly conversing about me. I stopped before them to muster the courage to ask them to open the big metal door.

   "It looks like you made a deal with old man Marvin at the market I see. He usually has a big heart for younger kids when it comes to trading," Said the sly looking man. He was smirking and looked over at the guard.

   The guard with the matted hair chuckled and joked, "Well, I guess the guard dogs won't get a snack today." They both laughed at each other as the guard opened the gate. I kept my eyes to the ground as I slowly walked out. Before I could look back through the door to take one last glance at the market, the door slammed shut. The chains clanged as the locks were put back on and the metal bar slid sharply across the door back into place. I turned back around and began to walk back to our camp. The scorching sand was hot against my calloused feet. It was about for hours back to the camp.

   As I got about a hundred feet away from the gated community I pulled out the locket that was hiding under my shirt and opened it. I looked at the picture of my father, trying to gaze into his eyes to understand the hardened look on his face. What was on his mind that day during this picture? All I could do was just apply that hardened look to my own face, trying to be tough like my father was. It gave me the feeling that I was strong and brave like him. The locket with his picture in it was my source of hope and courage. It was what kept me going, hoping that he was looking down on me, proud of me that I was living up to his expectations of me.

   "I won't let you down dad," I whispered to myself as I started to enter the wooded trails that led back to camp. All I could do was pray that my mom and brothers were ok. "I'm coming you guys, hold on," I said out loud as if they could hear me. It would be night time by the time I got there. At least my feet wouldn't be so hot by then.