Prologue – Tear

 

I pressed my burning forehead against the cool pane of the window and allowed my eyes to adjust to the dark, stormy night that lay beyond my safe ambiance.

The bus rumbled down what once used to be a paved highway, but was now nothing but an overgrown pasture.  I was sitting on the seat just above the wheel so I could feel every bump of the road.  Although the rest of the bus was nearly empty, I could not summon up enough strength to change seats.

My cheeks were a scolding red and I felt a definite fever coming on after having spent so many hours out there in the cold.  The cool glass felt good against my scorched skin and I closed my eyes, trying to catch some much needed shut-eye before I got there.

But I kept seeing his face.

He was young millionaire and technology genius Toby Tassel.  He was also my oldest and dearest friend and the only person in the world I had ever loved and cared a nil about.

And then I knew that I would have to go see him.  He was a good person, having lived too long in poverty to understand greed, and the tragedies that had recently stuck him, he did not deserve.  I didn’t know what good it would be to see him—I wouldn’t be able to help—but my heart told me that it was something I had to do.

It was my duty to try, at least, to save him from himself, even though I wasn’t stupid enough to actually think that it would do any good.

Unpeeling my lifeless eyes, I got up and told the bus driver to stop.  I was getting off here.  He looked at me like I was crazy, but obeyed.  You simply didn’t question government property with prominent friends in this day and age. 

Stepping off the bus, I pulled my hood over my whitened head and began my journey through what I would later learn to be the worst storm in over a century.  That was also the day my Toby Tassel died.

 

Chapter 1 – Toby

 

3 years before

 

I made my way through the scraps of what once used to be the glorious Italian city of Vienna.  It had been exactly five days to this day that I and my best friend Tear Winlock had finally managed to make it over to the States and leave the Wrong Side of the World behind.  Of course, that choice had not come with the choice of leaving the old days of life as well.  So every year, on the anniversary of our departure, Tear and I returned to our home, and the grave of our mentor, to pay our respects to the man who had died trying to get me and Tear out of this mess.

But Tear couldn’t be here today.  She was still back in the States.  And although I was glad that she had the power to put the past behind her like that and make a new life for herself, I sure missed my little white-headed friend…especially today.

As I gazed up into the sunny sky above, so awkward for such a bleak event, I spotted a helicopter hovering up above, the side of which, in big bold red letters, read “Tassel Corp.”

Was it that time already?

I stole a glance at my digital sports watch, a gift from an admirer.  12:45 on the dot.  Good.  I had a meeting with some potential clientele in less than an hour and I couldn’t be late.

The helicopter landed a few feet in front of me, picking up and scattering debris into the clear air.

My red-checkered tie, my lucky tie, whipped at my face.  I held it down and ran for the helicopter.

The crewmembers helped me inside and within seconds we were soaring over Europe…or what was left of it anyways.  When WWIII erupted and the U.S. was forced to deploy its nuclear WMD, it did not accurately calculate the damage, leaving the whole east side in shambles…except for a few survivors.

But I didn’t want to concentrate on the damage that had been done upon the once-glorious European cities that were so enriched with history.

Instead I decided to admire the vast terrains that were slowly beginning to creep back green over the barren landscapes.  Papers that I would need to look over for this business merger were constantly being shoved my way, but I decided to ignore them and simply enjoy the bittersweet view.

 

* * *

I sat in an upstairs office in a dark warehouse.  The sun crept in through the cracks in the vertical window shades, casting light on my swollen face and making me feel as though I was in a prison cell.

The door creaked open and I looked up to see my potential business associates stroll in, escorted by some of my own security personnel.

“Gentlemen,” I scooted forward and put my fingertips together as they were seated, “you know who I am and I know who you are, so obviously there’s no need for formal introductions.  So let’s get down to business.  I believe that England is the sole nation that is fast recovering from the nuclear assaults done by the U.S.  We should start rebuilding it so that when we have to rebuild the rest of the world, we already have some experience in such projects.  I propose to build an experimental town in the moors of England, secluded from the destruction of the rest of the world.  The town would come full with stores, a school, public utilities, the works.  We would see how the inhabitants would react to their new environment, and if it was a good and healthy reaction, then the reconstruction of the rest of the Wrong Side of the World could begin.”  And now for the selling line.  “All I need from you gentlemen is funding.  I could do the rest.”

The two business associates, one balding, one with an overabundance of hair, exchanged glances.

I scooted even closer, with no intention of giving them their “space.”

“Mr. Tassel,” the one with the hair addressed me rather awkwardly, “we are a little concerned that we’re your only potential investors.  This is a pretty big project to undertake.”

I scowled.  “You’re my only investors because you’re the only ones I’ve asked so far.  And what’s this really going to cost you?  Three million bucks…especially with the place I picked out.  That’s like pocket change for your company.  And what’s to gain?  A fast revival of the Old World, a balance of trade, and you two emerging as heroes since you allowed this whole thing to initiate.”

The two men exchanged looks…but they were no longer looks of uncertainty and disapproval.

“All right!” exclaimed the balding man as loud that I nearly jumped in my seat.  “Let’s do it!”