"It started as riots in the street. People making messes, beating other people up. Then the killing started. The police tried to stop it, but sheer numbers drove them back. So many died...the bodies just...piled in the streets. The smell was unbearable for a while. Even in the cleaner parts the stench crept in and lingered there. Your nose finally got used to the stink of rotting flesh, and the sight of dead bodies was just something you got used to. The only safe place was your home, and even then there was guarantee. Houses were raided and looted. I remember the neighbors had moved in with us, we had boarded up the house, but they got in anyways. One night a group of men broke in...killed my father and the other men, raped the women...I'm not sure why they kept me alive...but they took me with them. I was their prisoner for three days before I escaped. I came to a small settlement that had once been a gated community. Well it was still gated, but fortified, with guards patrolling the perimeter. A family took me in...I met your mother there. Life in that place was good. I got a job in a library. One the bigger houses had been turned into one, and there were all sorts of books there. I had that job for a while. By the time I was eighteen I married your mother, and then I did something that I had never imagined. The community was getting too large, too many people and not enough room. So I went to the town sheriff and told him I would lead a group of people to another location and start another community. So I did. And here we now."
"Here we are..."
"It is time for you to make a choice. You can kill me, your own father, take what you will, or you can be on your way. I'm not making you stay here, no one is. I don't know what has driven you to this."
"You know damn right what drove me to this."
"The government?"
"You're nothing but a troublemaker. I'm ashamed to call you my father."
"I'm not a troublemaker. I'm standing for my freedom. You should to. Not be following somebody because why, he looks pretty in a suit? He's a fake. He wants power, and he'll take every last bit of freedom from us. You know that's what started the riots in the first place, it's what caused the first government to fall. They tried to control everyone's lives, and people snapped. They got tired of it. It happened before it will happen again. Anyone who follows him, yourself included, are being played for fools."
"I'm not a fool. You're the fool. When you are dead I'll be taking over this town. I will serve President Simon until I die. Because he's a man worth serving."
"Well then...why don't you kill me and get this over with? There's no more to be said."
Steven looked at his father, pointing his gun at his chest. He wanted to kill him...or did he? Those were his orders, to kill William Ryan. To kill his own father...to take over the town for the government...for President Simon.
He pulled the trigger. He father fell to the floor. Steven bit his lip then walked out of the room.
"What took you so long?" asked Reg.
"He wanted to talk," was all Steven said.
"He's dead then?"
"He's dead."
Everyone had been gathered in the center of town. Steven walked to the fountain in the middle and stood up on the wall and looked out over the people. They all looked frightened and confused. He saw his men, all standing around with guns.
"People of Oldtown, you have been taken under the jurisdiction of the New Government of California. I, Steven Ryan hereby take the position of town mayor. All cases are now ruled by me and all law is in the hands of the new sheriff, Reg Maggly. You may all return to your homes and go about your daily business, but if you wish to leave the premises you must first consult Sheriff Maggly or myself. That is all."
Steven stepped down from the fountain and walked back towards the house that was now his. He ordered one of the me to remove his father's body and clean the floor. Steven went into his office and shut the door.
* * *
A letter arrived for Steven early on a Saturday morning. It was from President Simon himself asking Steven how the taking of Oldtown had gone. Steven wrote his reply and then decided to go for a walk. He left Oldtown and walked north along the old highway. The cracked and broken road stretched on before him and the dusty gray sky rose high at the horizon. A razor crow flew above him, its leathery wings beating against the air, its claws opening and closing periodically. The beast no doubt was hoping that Steven would drop down dead, so that it could feast on his flesh. Razor crows had appeared about a decade ago. No one knew where they came from, or what exactly they were, but they resembled a skeletal, reptilian bird. Since they were scavengers and had razor sharp claws they were dubbed razor crows. It was a fitting name for the ugly avian species. The razor crow continued to circle overhead and Steven walked onward.
He came to a a bridge that stretched over a river. As he walked over the bridge he saw a cloaked and hooded figure standing in the center of the bridge. The figure had its back to him but as he approached it turned and faced him. Steven found himself face to face with a skeleton. The empty hollow eyes stared at him and a bony mouth hung slightly open.
"Welcome traveler," said the skeleton.
"Hello..." said Steven warily.
"What do you seek beyond this bridge?"
"I am only wandering, I seek nothing."
"Do you know what lies beyond this bridge?"
"No, what's beyond the bridge?"
"Paradise. A land a green. Flowing rivers of clean water, trees bearing the best fruit."
"Really, and what is this lad called?"
"Some call it Neweden. I simply call it Paradise...because that's what it is...paradise."
"Who are you?"
"The Judge."
"The Judge of what."
"The Judge of who passes by to Paradise, and who dies here."
"I think I'll just go back..."
"You cannot go back. It is too late. What's done is done."
"Well then, can I go on?"
"No you cannot. You are unworthy of Paradise."
"So where am I supposed to go?"
"Nowhere. Here your life ends and your bones turn to dust and blow away in the wind. My judgement is passed."
Steven's heart stopped and he fell down dead.
The razor crow swooped down to begin its feast. The Judge turned his back, facing Paradise.
