Disclaimer: I do not claim any ownership of any of T.S. Eliot's poetry, this really is just inspired by and slightly analyzes the content of one of his poems.
Whimper
Surveying the desert around him, Ray furrows his brow and squints against the glare of the setting sun. Large, jagged stones and prickly, green cacti litter the landscape, and cast long shadows on the parched earth of the inhospitable place. This is all that remains for mankind, he thinks. He then looks back at the travelers who follow him, the faintest glimmer of hope flashing in their sullen eyes over the possibility of a new haven nearby.
"Hey," Ace says, "I don't like it anymore than you do, but you know it's safer here than anywhere else. The deserts are the only places we haven't ruined yet."
"I know," Ray says, "Nowhere to escape from the mephitic air and feculent water like the middle of nowhere. But it isn't much better; city air will clog a man's lungs and the water will poison his blood, but a place like this, it'll kill his soul."
Ace smirks. Ray has a tendency toward the poetic, and Ace figures that nature brought him to the Eliot Society, which strives to prevent the horrors of "The Hollow Men" from becoming a cruel prophecy. The society's insignia—straw men hanging in a dead field—covers the men's breast pockets, letting others know they have official business. "Maybe his soul is already dead. That's how the planet ended up in its current putrid state," Ace says.
A woman near the front of their procession gasps at his comment. Ace looks back to see a crucifix on a chain around her neck. He raises his eyebrows at the oddity; religion in 2112 has almost disappeared since people have hollowed out their lives to fill them instead with superficial desires. Pain assaults Ace's heart at the thought, for he once lived as a hollow shell before finding meaning that floats on the wind along with the inconsequential rustling of the dying grass. Now he does not have time to think on the matter; he and Ray have to get the newcomers to their encampment before the sun completely sets, leaving them to wander in the dark.
Ray sees the tent village first, just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a blood red light over the earth. "We're almost there," he says to the travelers, turning around to address them. Even though he knows this cactus land will improve the lives of these people, Ray struggles to suppress his disgust at the thought of children growing up in this barren place, playing amongst the cacti in the desert heat instead of beneath the shade of woodland trees. They would live through warped childhoods filled with prickly pear. He turns to Ace and says, "You know what? I'm not sure this is worth it."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Ace asks without even bothering to look at his companion.
"This. I don't think I see the point anymore. We bring these people out here to save their lives, but this place destroys them anyway. This is the shadow land, and it leaves a man an empty husk. Life is long here, but death is our salvation. Don't you understand, Ace?"
"You're losing your mind, Ray. The heat is getting to you." He unscrews the cap on his canteen. "Here, drink some water. You're dehydrated."
"You know I'm not, Ace," Ray says, pointing to the beads of sweat forming on his face. "You've seen me drink enough to keep sweating. I've just finally begun to see; it's becoming so clear now. This is the way the world ends. Everyone thinks Armageddon will be all fire and brimstone, but this is it. Soullessness has destroyed the world, and now our only hope for escape is death's twilight kingdom. I told you, death is all that remains for empty men. That's what he's saying."
"Who?" Ace asks.
"Eliot. He leaves it choppy and fragmented, but that's what it means, and everyone is empty now. I'm empty," Rays says, his eyes glassy and distant
Ace stares at Ray for a moment, only just noticing that his own feet—along with everyone else's—have stopped moving. "Ray, as soon as we get back to that camp I'm sending you to the medical tent. You've completely lost it. Stop scaring these people," Ace says, gesturing to the small crowd of wide-eyed observers behind them.
"Maybe they need to be scared," Ray says, with a suddenly serene and blank look. "Maybe the only way they can understand is if they are scared. Maybe they'll know then."
"You're raving. You don't know what you're saying anymore," Ace says. He grips Ray's arm and begins to pull him forward, but Ray jerks away.
"No, I've never seen anything more clearly in my life. Only through death can we redeem our empty lives, Ace. There's nothing left for us here." He turns from everyone, walks away, and reaches for something on his belt.
Ace runs to stop him, sure that Ray has pulled out his revolver to act on his insanity. Instead, he watches as Ray's right arm stretches forward and jerks back. Then Ray collapses. As Ace looks down at his former partner, a bubble of blood escapes from Ray's lips with a soft murmur.