Christ for Life

Chapter 1

Falling (A look ahead)

Monday, July 31, 2051

The global population is in steady decline after a series of catastrophic events, including the recent attacks on Canada and Mexico. It is estimated that in the last three months, billions of people around the world have died from wars, starvation, or religious persecution. Today when I turned on the television, all I could see was death and destruction on every channel. The Arab nations of Pakistan, Iran, and Iraq were being blamed for releasing some sort of chemical weapon over Israel that was believed to have killed well over a hundred thousand Jews who lived there. One man dared to give an exact number. He said, “The number is one hundred and forty-four thousand, and with that the fate of the world is sealed.”

I thought to myself, That number sounds familiar, and at just that moment, all the power went out in my house—well, if you could still call it a house. It was barely standing after the recent earthquake. I was sure that as soon as the structural engineers came next week, they would deem it unsafe and book it for demolishing. Then what?

I gave my head a shake to get back into reality. It was light outside, so I could see the front street clearly since the blinds were open. It was quite odd, I thought—the message of the 144,000, I mean, not the light. I looked at my watch. It was 7:00 a.m. I went to the fridge and pulled out the milk. I sat down, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and contemplated shooting myself right there at the kitchen table. My gun was within reach, so it would hardly take any effort. I wouldn’t even have to get up.

I thought to myself, Why did we go visit my friend Janice in Wawanesa the first weekend of April? Why did the van break down so that we had to stay there for a week waiting for parts? I wish I had been in Winnipeg and that the nuclear bomb had landed square on my head. At least I wouldn’t be here still trying to pick up the pieces months later, only to be followed by an earthquake. Really, an earthquake? We live in, excuse my French, Winnipeg, not in San Francisco. We’re not supposed to have earthquakes here! Just then my nine-year-old son, Stephan, came up from behind me and said, “Love you, Declan. What’s for breakfast?”

“Cereal,” I said as I pulled the gun toward me. “Go wake up the clan for me, will you?” It was more of a telling than an asking, and he knew it.

With that, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Get up, you lazy buggers.” I looked at him and rolled my eyes. He shrugged and said, “What? Did you want me to go wake eighty people up one by one like Mom would do?”

Stephan had become my son by marriage but also by choice, just like his sisters, Amelia and Amanda, who were now seventeen and sixteen. My biological son, Colin, had gone back home to his mother’s yesterday, like he did every Sunday night for the week until I picked him up on Friday again.

“No,” I said. How could I blame him? I was about to wake them up with a gunshot. His way was definitely a lot less messy. Eighty people, I can’t believe eighty people even fit in my house, never mind that I would “let” them in. Since the food shortage, though, what was I supposed to do, let my friends and neighbors starve to death? Ask me now and I’d say yes! Let them all starve, they drive me crazy!

“Oh,” I said. “Love you too, Stephan.”

As the “clan” filtered in, I zoned out and turned on my mp3 radio as I walked out the front door. The reception seemed very fuzzy. I checked the time: 7:32 a.m. A girl giving the daily news said, “There seems to be a province-wide power outage, and the only reason we’re able to broadcast is because of the backup generators we have. It also seems like the power outage might be more widespread and that for now, all flights are canceled to and from anywhere in the country.”

I thought to myself, Not like I care. I haven’t been anywhere since 2010, when I went on a mission trip with my church.

She went on to say, “The Manitoba government tells us that we should expect it to be months before uninterrupted power can be expected, considering the damage from the earthquake and all the rubble that has to be cleaned up before workers can access all the downed power lines and blown transformers.”

I got to work a couple of hours later. You never realize how far away somewhere is until you have to walk there. My boss, Jeff, was already there with both overhead doors opened up. “The power is out, and I couldn’t see inside unless I opened the doors,” he told me.

I just nodded and walked inside. We talked for a bit like we always did, and I asked him if I could use the work van for personal use because mine had been written off after a tree fell on it during the earthquake. I knew it wouldn’t be a problem, but I still asked. When I went to leave the shop to start my day, the van wouldn’t start. I tried ten times to get it to start, but it wouldn’t turn over. “Eish. Stupid alternator,” I muttered. The alternator had been going for the past two months. I carried a new one with me in the van because we knew it was going to fail eventually. I got out and removed the new alternator from the box and proceeded to get some of the tools I needed. My boss popped the hood for me and guided me through the process of removing the old alternator. Two hours later, we finally had the alternator in—we meaning me. I cleaned up a little as Jeff got in the driver’s seat and tried to start the van. Still the van wouldn’t start.

“Did you do it right?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. I did exactly what you said!” I answered back.

“Are you out of gas again, Declan?” Jeff jabbed.

“No. That was one time. Give me a break. I filled up yesterday after work!” I bellowed back. “Beautiful day. I guess we’ll have to get it towed.” I picked up the phone, but it was dead. I put it back, opened my cell phone, dialed the number, and hit “send,” but nothing happened. It just kept searching for a signal. “Jeff, try your cell. I can’t get a signal.” I walked outside to see if I could get a better signal. I noticed out on the front street that there were no cars going by, even though it was normally quite busy. Instead there were a few vehicles parked with the doors wide open and their occupants outside trying to use their cell phones with no luck either, it seemed. “Do you have a signal, Jeff?” I asked.

“No” was his only reply.

I walked to the front street and looked down in both directions. Nothing was moving. As far as I could see, there were just dead cars with people standing around trying to use their cell phones. I heard a dull noise getting louder. At first I couldn’t make it out, but then it became clearer and closer. It was screaming. In the distance, from the south, I could see people running and screaming, but seconds after they started running, I saw them falling. As their lifeless bodies dropped to the ground, a man behind me screamed, “Cover your mouth. It’s probably an airborne chemical!” and with that he too fell to the ground. My head started to feel light. I tried to run, but I could feel myself falling, and my eyes slowly closed. The last thing I saw was my watch flashing in front of face: 1:00 p.m. July 31, 1:00 p.m. July 31, 1:00 p.m. July 31.

Wake up, wake up, wake up, I kept telling myself. Wake up! Slowly I opened my eyes. All I could see were white lines. I rubbed my eyes and finally notice how uncomfortable I was. I stretched and creaked as my neck and back cracked back into place. I opened my eyes once again to see the white lines in front of my face. I lifted my head a little and saw the asphalt, and then it dawned on me where I was. I was still on the road. I stood up and looked around; the cars were still all around, and cell phones lay here and there on the ground. There