The Making of Power and Chaos
Staring boredly upwards, Martin followed a crack forming from where the wall met the ceiling and stretched into the middle towards the light bulb. Drumming his fingers on the bed, he wondered how long he would have to stay in this bland room. With its bland walls, bland complexion, door closed to the chaos beyond. He'd been told he was lucky. Unique. One of the rare cases where children were infected by the same virus killing off the populations of the world. The children who contracted it merely became ill for a short time, symptoms no worse than a bad case of the cold. But the hospitals, doctors, experts prodded him with needles and ran endless tests in hopes of procuring a cure from him, one of the few who perhaps held the answers.
In the days he'd had to lay there in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines and boredly staring into the bland unknown he'd had time to ponder on the power he held. Something inside him made him different. Made him important, special. The adults needed him; though their search seemed fruitless, they didn't give up, because they needed to hope that that something about him that fought the virus could give them the answer to prevent the chaos destroying the world.
Martin hadn't ever been needed before. He was always the forgotten one, the quiet one, the one who wasn't expected to amount to anything much. Overshadowed by a brother who was good at everything. All his life Martin had grown up with the echo of Bray in his ears. Bray, who brought home all the top grades. Bray, the hero of the basketball court. Bray, who got all the girls. Bray, Bray, Bray. He was Martin, Bray's brother. Because of it, he'd been left alone at school, despite being quiet, vulnerable to bullies, they all left him alone, respecting or liking Bray too much to cause trouble. But it also brought him unwanted attention from the teachers. Expecting him to get similar grades, the coach expecting him to be able to run around the court without breaking a sweat. He saw the look in their eyes, the looks that said he'd never amount to anything much compared to his older brother.
Over the years, Martin had come to hate everything about Bray. The way he looked, the way he acted, as if the world was at his feet and he could control it to bow to his every thought and whim. But now Martin was the one with the power, the one people turned to when they were in need, desperation driving them to finally take notice of the quiet boy who was shunned by the world. For the first time he stepped out from behind his brother and saw a world without shadow or forbearance. He saw a world he could be in control of. The adults were dying and in their wake was a whole new way of life.
In his small room, with beeping machines, bland walls and cracked ceilings, Martin smiled and waited. Waited for the world to end. Waited for a new beginning. His planning and thinking was interrupted by the door opening and he sighed. Probably another nurse come to take some details. Flicking his eyes to the door, he was surprised to see part of the source of his thoughts walk through the door. Bray gave him a half smile, closing the door behind him with something mixed with belief.
Shirking his bag off his shoulder, Bray dragged a chair nearer to the bed, talking as moved.
"Hey, how you doing?"
Martin stared at the wall opposite and considered the question. Bray didn't ask him how he was feeling because he knew as well as everyone else that he was perfectly fine and the tests were all that was keeping him confined to a room in a hospital full of dying adults. How did Bray think he was doing?
"Fine," he replied in a monotonous tone. What did Bray care anyways? He was just there to make himself feel better, a show that he was doing his duty as a big brother.
"Brought you your game boy," Bray said, holding out the small device to him.
Martin didn't reach out for it, just flicked his eyes to it before glancing away again. It would suffice to while away the hours for a little time.
"Brought some books too," Bray added, setting the heavier items onto the mattress.
Martin became more interested at that thought. He'd grown bored of the comics his mother had brought him; he'd never enjoyed reading comics much. He preferred picking up a history book, pouring out information and detail which would fill up his mind, bring to life the history of the world. It had occurred to him, shut up in this small room, that he was witnessing history. He was part of it, intertwined, integral. Whether the adults failed or were victorious in finding a cure, he was part of that process now.
"Thanks," he replied gruffly, fingering one of the books. At least Bray had had the foresight to pick up a few of his favourites. Sometimes his brother surprised him, made it seem like he took notice of him. Martin doubted it was true but sometimes the little things made him re-consider.
Bray shifted in his seat, leaning toward him, hands clasped together, shoulders hunched. Martin decided there was nothing else worthy of his attention in the room and so focused on his brother. Bray looked at him steadily; few people looked him in the eyes anymore. One small price to pay for catching a virus killing every other person, it had affected his eyes. The doctors had used technical terms to explain it, but Martin hadn't even known what they were talking about until he'd looked into the mirror. His eyes had seemed to take on a life of their own, wide, focused, clear icy blue. Though his sight hadn't been affected, the appearance of his eyes seemed to have an affect on people, as if they were afraid to look at him. Even his own mother avoided his eye line unless completely necessary. Before he'd contracted the virus his father had passed away, he'd become sick only days later and been in the hospital for two weeks since.
"What is it?" Martin asked Bray who seemed caught between thought and speaking, as if he weren't sure what to say.
"It's mom," Bray said quietly, looking him right in the eyes.
Martin barely bristled; it wasn't as if it was a shock. Every parent was dying, they'd already lost one. It was inevitable that his mother would be dead soon too.
"She in the hospital?" Martin asked, so as not to seem as callous as he felt inside.
"Yeah, they brought her in a few hours ago. I wanted to find out how bad it was before I came to see you." Bray nodded his head.
"She got very long?" Martin questioned, pondering how much more death it would take before this world ended.
Bray shook his head and shifted in his seat again.
"They don't think so, I've asked if we can go see her together." he said quietly.
Martin sat up a little at that prospect, before frowning and looking round at the walls again.
"I want out of here altogether Bray," he said with a sudden determination. When he left this room, he wouldn't be coming back. He turned to glare at his brother and was surprised to find Bray nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, I think it's time you were out of here too." Bray said with a half smile, as if they'd reached some momentary equal ground of certainty. "Let me speak to the doctors, see if they are willing to let you go. If they aren't, well I doubt we'll have the authorities after us."
"So why not just sneak off while they're not looking?" Martin asked, impatiently, already pushing the covers away and swinging his legs round to get off the bed.
"Because there's a right way and a wrong way of doing things Martin and right now we're going to do it the right way." Bray replied, reaching out and setting a hand on his arm before he could start pulling at wires which had pads attached to him, leading to monitors by his bed.
'Your way,' Martin thought dismissively, but gave a nod of agreement.
A little later Bray left to go find a doctor and Martin picked up one of the books Bray had brought, thumbing through the pages. Detailed accounts of wars fought over the years, the leaders who led them, their successes and failures. It was a favourite subject of his, the subject of war, how they had shaped the world, made it what had become. Even now, the adults were fighting a war, a war they were going to lose. Because they didn't hold the key to the chaos, they didn't have the power, and that was when Martin knew he would survive in the new world. Because he held the keys to Power and Chaos.
Bray didn't find a doctor, but they left even so and without a word raised from anyone. What doctors and nurses remained were too involved in providing what care they could for the dying. Bray and Martin visited their mother, close to death but holding on. It would be three weeks before she died, holding on until the very end. Martin returned to school, for no other reason than to start putting into motion plans suddenly filling his mind minute after minute. He barely slept, instead thinking of the future, a new world with a new way of living. A vacuum of power just waiting to be taken hold of and excised. It was his chance, his moment, to step out from the shadows and be noted, he'd no longer be the brother of Bray, no longer be the underachiever. Bray did everything the right way, the way of the adults, where everything had a time and place.
The adults were dying, the adults were dead and so were the ways of society and how to live. History could be written and he, Martin, stood in the midst of the new world and would be part of it's new creation. In future years, he'd be remembered, because history remembered powerful leaders. All around him were the armies which would help or hinder him, they only needed their minds opened to the possibilities of what could be. Take their minds off the death around them and to the opportunity presenting itself. No longer were they going to be told what their destinies would be, no longer would they be controlled and herded, like mindless beings being told what to do. Destiny was their's to design and control.
Trudy became a problem, betrayed him, both of them did, Trudy and Bray. Once again overshadowed by his brother, he left them to each other. It was no matter, he no longer needed either of them, he'd learned long ago that the only person he could trust was himself. He'd shown light to many, kids lost in their own shadows and he led them to the light.
The shine of power in the darkness, the power they held, the future stretching out before them and they could pave a way across it. Like locusts devouring the shadows, creating a new existence, the keepers of power and chaos.
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He needed a name and like his whole life lived in the shadows, small and overlooked, he found it hidden in the pages of a favourite history book. A small column, insignificant compared to the wars of great nations, but the name struck him, festered in his mind, gave him time for contemplation. 'Zoot Suit Riots'. With a cagey smile he allowed the idea to grow, power and chaos was the new rule of this world. The Locusts would cause havoc in the streets, he'd be a leader, a ruler of the new empire and nobody was going to stop him.
As the world gave in to chaos, Martin died and Zoot rose up, stepping into the void and becoming part of history.