Non Radio Frequency Communication Device or N.R.F.C.D.

The brainwashing was finished, and the E.R.C. program was completed. Mark was walking out of the room, with a stunned look on his face. His eyes were wide open, and his lower lip hung with a fearful tremor.

After he exited the room, two guards approached him and escorted him out of the premises. They practically dragged him out of the building and threw him onto the dusty cold ground.

High winds scorched the area with a cold bite, and ash from fallout fell like snow onto the ground. There was a sort of peaceful feeling that this possessed for Mark, something that at least had the characteristics of nature. The ash fell on his hair, and the radiation poisoned his brain. For all that could see, most of what Mark was had disintegrated and become what little flecks of burning memories and dust-filled crevasses of a once soulful human being.

Someone approached Mark, but Mark wasn't entirely sure of the presence of this person.

"Hello, sir, are you okay? You've been out here for a couple hours."

"Chaos, Chaos!" Mark yelled while backing away like a scared rodent.

"Hey hey hey, it's ok, I'm not going to hurt you, just come with me. I'll help you."

Mark didn't understand what the man was saying, but he tried his best to make out his hand gestures and followed the man. 

"What's your name?" The man asked.

"M-mm-mmm-mm m-mm-mmm-mmm-m." Mark tried to respond.

"What did they do to you?"

The man and Mark walked into a tunnel that went ten or fifteen feet underground. When they entered a shelter, it was almost completely pitch black except for a few candles that lit up a couple areas of the room. There was a conversation going on around a table.

"Peter, I heard you found something interesting today. Tell us about it." Someone asked. 

"Well, I was walking past the governor's house, and outside of it was a couple pieces of N.R.F.C.D."

Peter opened his satchel and revealed three pieces of unused N.R.F.C.D.

"We'll be able to communicate with each other with these and won't have to rely on any of the other methods. I'll rip these up into smaller pieces and we'll have a system where you can go to a certain place around where you live where I'll drop these off." Peter suggested his idea.

"That's a great idea, and hey, look who made it back and with a friend?" 

"Found this one outside of the E.R.C. Can't say anything. Think we should try to help him?" The man who brought Mark to this strange place asked.

"Sure yes, let's hook him up to the rehabilitation machine." Peter suggested.

"You think that would help? I think the guy's seen enough of machines for the moment. Plus it's a total memory wipe. He ain't gonna remember a thing."

"Ya well it isn't like he's doing much better right now. I mean look at the guy, as far as I'm concerned he resembles an animal. You search him yet?"

"No."

"What I tell you about bringing people down here you haven't searched. Bring em here." 

Peter began rummaging through Mark's pockets looking for any sort of trackable device or software. As he searched him, Peter felt Mark's arm and when he got to Mark's hand he realized something.

 "Oh damn." 

"What, you find something?"

"Yeah, tumor." Peter then turned Mark's hand towards the rest of everyone and revealed a massive tumor that had grown on the back of his hand.

"Looks like the radiation got to him. Probably got only a little bit left to live. We'll have to check him for any more, see how bad of a situation this is. Take him over to the medical bed, see if we got something over there to help him out." Peter suggested.

Above on the surface, there was a house nearby with a small family of a husband, a wife, and a child. The radio waves were being picked up by the TV that was constantly playing, and the Safety Machine Portable Version or S.M.P.V. was distracting all three of the members at the dinner table. 

"Say's here it's going to be windy later."

 "Look here how the guy tries to catch the train and he dies. How hilarious!"

"Mom, look at this cute bunny."

The machines buzzed and whirred, and the humans with their hypnotic scrolling gave the machines their credibility, and ever so often, usually a video between videos, the state agenda would pop up. The bright lights and the loud noises and the catchphrases and the systematically mechanical perspectives of the machine continued its whirring and hollering to prevent the humans from ever looking away, and the humans gave into to this self suicidal tyrannical device and allowed their lives to be a walking, talking, breathing, living, organic advertisement.