The Volcano
Some mild back-story is required. I wrote this initially as a stand-alone story for my high school English class that was inspired by Battlestar Galactica and took place on earth. In fact, the main character is named after the creator of BSG. I became interested to see if it would work as a BSG fan fiction and converted the names and information. I had to create some stuff about the planet and religion to aid in the translation. The only things you wouldn't understand before hand would be the Northern Alliance and Fuldimen Axis are two radical military groups who hate a particular state on Leonis. In the original it was Pakistan and Iran. The Western Lands is a state on the other side of the planet. In the original it was China. Feldman and A.D. were originally Seinfeld and Arrested Development. Forgive me if I forgot to convert a phrase or name. The back-story to this piece is that on the colony Leonis the Cylons activated a mega-volcano the day of the attack. Which threw ash into the sky, which clouded the sun and hence sent temperature spiraling down. Just for the sake of curiosity in the original story the story started in a rich neighborhood in L.A. and in my head this takes place in a city similar to L.A. on Leonis. It should be noted that although we can be sure the Cylons destroyed Leonis it is never mentioned on the show how they did it and it is possible no ships from Leonis made it to the fleet. So this does not conflict with canon.
He decided to slowly turn off the TV and enjoy the next moments deep in thought. The TV was no pleasure to those seeking to deny the wide picture. So he quickly headed up the stairs. He glanced down as he jumped the gap in the stairs, from the impact, and spotted the bodies of his children scattered around the basement still clutching their glasses of his wife's "special punch" and his wife ever so carefully placed in her favorite chair, in her dress military uniform, and still holding her Grandparquote s favorite shotgun with her head not so carefully shredded. He could not decide whether to bring down his Feldman or A.D. HDI-DVDs for his happy death so he decided to grab both and decide later when he wasn't standing next to the remnants of his mom's wheelchair. He hoped to fall asleep watching it but knew that would never happen.
As he was jumping the gap he heard a loud rush and a rush of hot air as a piece of shrapnel broke the basement window that peaked above the ground and impaled itself in his son's knee. He entered the computer room to discover that the TV could not function with the excess of steel provided by the explosion. It was probably a Northern Alliance or Fuldimen Axis missile. The news had reported that during their martyr run they had run out of nukes after overdoing themselves with their preferred target and were now quickly using up what was left of regular armaments. It was easy to sacrifice yourself when the stars have conspired to choke your planet with the dust blasted off its surface.
R.D.M. headed into the cold wilderness. He could scarcely see beyond three feet in front of his face. He could no longer see the sun and already the concrete was giving his feet frostbite. It was noon, on Leonis, and his shoes were in his basement. In the hope of finding an HDI-DVD player to begin his "happy" approach to the end he headed to his neighbor's house. He had heard several gunshots from that direction and sincerely hoped to find it "abandoned." Upon entering his neighbor's garage he found his neighbor Professor Bluh whimpering in the corner of his garage holding a revolver. He liked to collect antique weapons and this piece fit the antique qualification quite well. He was clearly far beyond the realm of normal conversation. He had always been a "twitcher" and the hole in the upper part of his cheek clearly showed it. "Why should he stand in a way of his 'happy' death so he can die whimpering in a corner hidden behind his wife's car?" begin to roll around in his brain and in a fit of rage he grabbed the relic of a weapon and nearly shattered his skull. "Lucky bastard, he is going to sleep right threw it." began to join the already abnormal pattern of thought in his brain. Still twitching from the adrenaline he groped around for a light switch and upon finding it unable to ignite the bulb he quickly made haste to his exit. He knew he had a family and, after his experience with the basement, he quickly decided to assume the electricity was out.
He knew his rich neighbor, Mr. Geiger, had some sort of generator he had ripped off from one of his failed fast food restaurants. So he headed in what appeared to be west in hopes of finding his last resting spot still enclosed in the surly bonds of Leonis. For two hours he groped around in the streets as he felt the ground grow colder and colder. Had it not been for the fact that he would most surely die in five or six hours he would have been becoming increasingly more concerned with his feet. Almost out of nowhere he saw a light in the dark tunnel that was this dusty hell. Slowly the angelic symbol he had seen in this white light began to fade and he saw only the sinister red and orange lights issuing from Mr. Geiger's house.
He had found his mystical generator. It appears that Mr. Geiger preferred a much warmer death. He stood next to the flame and warmed himself for what would be a most difficult journey. He had no inkling of where he would go but he had a feeling it would not be a land of unicorns and fairy dust. He heard some mild screaming from inside the house. He suspected that these were not the screams of surprise but the scream of doubt over the path he had chosen. Our dear little R.D.M. was far too cold and far too frustrated to save this idiot so he would live a few more hours unconscious and doped up on morpha. He heard the sounds of sirens resonating through the ash and dust. Not wanting to experience another violent outburst he retreated into the darkness and watched it all unfold. Why did the firemen care? They could still be at home with their families. He did not know why the firemen stayed at their posts nor did he care? So he hastily made his way to the backyard. R.D.M. had reached the half-way point of the fence when he decided that the owner would not care about twenty cubits worth of property damage and slammed straight threw the partially ablaze fence.
On the other side he found a sign reading "Mitch Hurwitz Memorial Highway" slowly burning to nothing from embers that drifted over in the wind. At first he was hesitant to cross the street. But, with the cloud getting denser he realized that he was just as likely to get hit on the side of the road as in the middle of the road. He downed a few shots of country spirits he had pocketed from his grandmother's cabinet and ran straight forward in the darkness.
A round is chambered. The scope is fitted. The church bells will be silenced along with the bell ringer.
A couple seconds into his "death run" he found the cars were in more danger than he was as his head slammed into the cheap window of a Caprican car. He had found the mobs of the poor who could not afford TVs and the idiots who failed to grasp that a cloud of dust blocking the sun was probably not a local condition.
He climbed the tower with his rifle. His name is William and he was a priest. He is angry. With everything he says and does he believes that his old beliefs were wrong and every time he prayed he made the real gods(whoever they are) madder and madder. With his heart he is still the Cylon War veteran who had entered the priesthood after leaving the fight, retired ten years later, and still taught the girl's choir. He flipped on the thermal and set the sight of his old rifle south towards the highway.
R.D.M.'s head was still ringing from the window and the Geminon couple he had startled. Each family in every car was utterly terrified. But there was also hope and even some glee in the more naive people. He wanted to crush this. Blood seeped onto the highway from the houses but these people did not share in this pain nor did they try to subdue the pain. They continued waiting to leave and escape the fate of so many of The Gods' children. His hand was still shaking from the cold but he unloaded his relic of a weapon into the tires of each car he could see. When there were no more bullets he ripped apart the packages he had brought for his happy death and shoved the shards into every single tire in every single car he could possibly find.
On the highway he could see a red glow emanating from the cars with a single spot running down the center with fifteen others following right behind unaware of what the man onlyfive feet ahead of them looked like.
After the adrenaline began to wear down he became keenly aware that there were fifteen angry people following him. At first his mind drifted towards running away and hiding but he quickly determined that if these people could follow him in the darkness then keeping up with slightly overweight forty five year old year old would be no challenge. So with no other choice other than bludgeon himself over the head with an empty revolver he turned around.
The red glow running down the highway appeared to have turned around to face the fifteen. He increased magnification until he could see the nervousness coursing through the man's body.
"I know you're angry with me. But there is no escaping this cloud encompassing us all. We must all stay here and help to make the end better for everyone"
The red glow of the people seemed to be backing off from him although this could be the fact that they can't see him.
"Your families are all dead. But so is mine and if I walked to The Western Lands, well what do you know, I would find they're all going to die too. The only thing that matters is that we all get together to resist this coming depression and unhappiness that plagues us all. First we should all calm down. Let's have a time out. I don't know if you allcan hear mebut I believe this is the international symbol for time-out."
The red ring of fifteen individuals grew larger as each backed off from their imposing stances. The center light turned around and through the sights he could see the sign of the cross in his hand. When Athena fell the scrolls said she burned a cross in the rock. This man must begin this crusade that his conscious mind had decided upon without consulting his heart. He fired.
He fell upon the floor without delay or knowledge of his untimely end.
It was a truly happy death.