Inside Paradise - IV

William was up before sunrise. He gathered everything from the newly unlocked drawer and placed it into a large pack before he went through the scattered papers; fake expired food cards, expired Med-Cards, fake expired credits. They were all useless. Every tool he had was fodder and so he had to find something else. But none of this would matter if he couldn't find transport, even a body in good condition, with ample supplies wouldn't be able to make it to where he needed to go without some kind of vehicle.

Where am I going? The thought came suddenly with little warning and he was caught in complete shock that he hadn't previously decided or even given it any thought at all. Suddenly he started to plan, firing idea into idea. Back and forth.

Back up north. But you aren't prepared. You don't know the route, and you don't know how you'll get there anyway. I have the car. You haven't used it in years. And you don't have Greg to fix it for you… you don't have anyone. Greg is still around. You don't have him! I have a car. You can't drive a car that hasn't run in over ten years and the tires still need air, the battery still needs juice… you still need supplies. I have supplies. You still need a way out. Bribe a guard. With what? Who the fuck do you think you are, you're a washed-up old man, losing his mind, They'll lynch you- second-grade med-card. Aye, give away the only thing you have- I'm not coming back anyway.

He was awoken by the thought. The truth was if he did manage to get out if he did manage to get the car going if he did manage to get up to the north. He would live the rest of his life outside the city. He couldn't get back in. It was the decision he had made, the choice he remembered making:

"If you get in, you're in William…" the words of his brother came to him with a grainy quality, as if waves of water and time had dulled each detail down to a rounded point, "You'll live the rest of your life inside those walls. It's not like smuggling in and out… You'd be a citizen, they'd have you on record. You chose this life out here. And if you pick to die in there, you can't come back.

He thought of changing what he had said, thought of staying and living out there on the farm, dealing with smugglers and brutes and bandits, but the words were predetermined, playing off a recorded record... and William responded, "I know, Charlie... Goodbye."

And yet, with the pack tied to his back, William opened his door and left his apartment, with the sun still to breach the waterline. Thoughts of his brother unearthed now drifted inside his mind.