Chaotic After - Chapter One

Tale told
a Thousand times
It circles the universe
and each time is given birth
from a new perspective.

I cannot say I knew from the beginning of this life that I would become what I have. Though, I seriously doubt that Joan of Arc or Cleopatra knew of their future renown when they were small girls, either. I have always known there is something different about me, that I was destined for something specific and possibly great. There were so many hurdles to overcome between that first itching feeling and now, it's still amazing to me that I made it. Especially when the apocalypse of my generation happened. Yes, that's right, each century has one, but we survive it as a species and go on thinking that couldn't have been the apocalypse, most of us survived! It all depends on where you are in the world, too, when looking at survival numbers.

Many still hold on to the idea that the apocalypse involves the four horsemen of doom and that it'll be on a global level. I guess, but anything of the magnitude of what happens each century causes ripples of effect throughout, so really - each is on a global level and the horsemen do appear, you just can't see anything of them but what they leave in their wake: famine, war, pestilence, death. We're just so used to those four elements, that they are no longer the harbingers feared by all as they once were.

When the apocalypse happened in 2012, as everyone feared from the interpretations of the Mayan calendars - we actually made it happen ourselves. The hysteria grew, getting closer and closer to the date - we started doing things globally which brought about the demise of our civilization as the prophecy foretold. People started withdrawing from the cities and building self-sustaining rural communities. The number of communes soared through the roof between 2007 and 2012. Then the internal terrorist attacks began, we had enough fodder to show us the way. Hollywood had done a great job of planting the ways to take down the corporate giants/government into our media soaked brains. We observed via world history the different outcomes of revolutions, civil wars, tyrannies and why utopic societies fail. The age of information brought about the means to end everything - ignorance is bliss and once you start learning, you start feeling more and more like You Are God, not some sheep in God's massive flock.

The Mayan's were right, 2012 marked the end of life as we knew it. When the corporations were destroyed, when democracy crumbled and left us with very little of our old way of life - we adapted and a new civilization started growing from it's ashes. Just like the Roman, French and British Empires before us, we had grown too big for our britches, unlike them the Americans had done it in under 300 years. Man did we ever fall hard too.

I was in my thirties when it all began, I had started using the internet to my fullest advantage. Learning, connecting, gathering resources, urging others to do the same - to start thinking for themselves. At that day and age, this was becoming a dangerous pastime - we were always on the verge of going into a militant state, the threat of terrorists on the lips of everyone, our President compared to Roman Emperor Nero. Though possibly not that depraved, certainly that damaging to our country. Now we know, now we understand and look back at our history with the words it had to happen that way always on our lips. Just as the French Revolution of 1789 - 1799 was gruesome and horrible in it's bloodbath - it had to be done to help bring us towards the Age of Information. Before that, only the wealthy and influential knew anything beyond what was needed to perform their duties. The peasantry weren't supposed to even want to learn to read and write, do complex mathematics or any of the subjects which were for the amusement and ponderings of gentlemen. Each time the guillotine blade fell with the shout of "Off With Their Heads!" , the poor brought that knowledge into their hands a little more.

Some libertine group blew up all of Washington DC at 20:12 pm on December 20, 2012. They received help from some second world countries, itching to get our government off of their backs. Many believe it was the Japanese or Koreans - the Japanese for what we did to Hiroshima and Nagasaki - the Koreans because they had nukes back then and we were one of the big powers trying to make them behave. These are only rumor and international gossip, to this day no one knows for sure who it was. The story everyone got was that they brought the nuke to DC in very small parts and assembled it under the city. How they got the radar hot core there undetected, no one knows for sure. Many think it was an inside job by the CIA itself.

Hundreds of thousands were killed, it was the Thursday night before Christmas - everyone was out at parties or shopping. The President and his family were at the White House getting it ready for the annual holiday festivities there, most of Congress and their families were in town for the political parties. They were all at Ground Zero and perished immediately - the whole world was rocked, America lost the heads of it's government in the blink of an eye. We were now open to invasion.

But the invasion didn't come - we fell into civil war immediately instead. People poured over the boundaries to Canada and Mexico - in both directions. Chaos reigned for 6 months, those in the rural communes closed their gates singing We told you! We told you! Whatcha gonna do now?

Nobody won, our country went from being one of the Big Boys to a devastated, wasted land in less than a year. Everyone trying to survive and get a slice of the pie, states seceded from the Union, militant groups claimed whole territories, putting up fences, armed guards and land mines to keep people out. The cities became cesspools where none dared enter unless they had the guts to shoot without asking and the skills to hit their mark. I was one of the people in a commune.

Our commune was in the Colorado Rockies, we were an open one - no fences, everyone with their own home, their own systems, their own stores of supplies. Though, when the shit hit the fan every able bodied person in the community helped to fence us in and set up measures so that we wouldn't be taken over by those who hadn't prepared as well. We had many children to take care of and feed, a lot of land to cover, a herd of goats and large well-grown gardens to protect. At least most of the kids were old enough and strong enough to help with everything, that saved us in the end.

Looking back now, I have to laugh. Throughout history it has usually been the men who step up and protect, take up arms for the sake of their family's safety. Not here, the men were more passive and anti-violence than the women. Myself and four other women were trained for self-defense, how to shoot a gun, how to build, arm and disarm a land mine or a trap. Once things settled down and we didn't have to be the gun-totting bitches around our property so much - I became a scout to find survivors. Being stuck in one place for a long time isn't my cup of tea, I'm more of the adventurous type and I've always been a bit of a loner.

In the summer of 2013 I went down with two others to see how Denver and Boulder had faired through the long, harsh winter and spring of violence. Denver was rubble, we made it as far as Golden before turning back - people had that wild dog gleam of mental sickness to their eyes. They would rather kill us and take everything we had, than talk. Boulder faired a little better, but not by much. We had a feeling that going West to Salt Lake City would not be a good idea for a while. The Mormon church would have that place locked down so tight, we'd never be allowed to leave once we crossed the border of Utah.

But we needed to find people to trade goods with. We had things other people would die for and they had commodities we could definitely use. Gasoline was one of the things we needed until we were able to get some horses and wagons. We decided that Boulder would be our best bet. Myself and Gama were the traders. We'd load the truck with goat milk, cheese and butter, with fresh veggies and meat - take it down to Boulder. We had a friend in the canyon whose house had miraculously survived everything unscathed. There we would sit and wait for people to come find us to trade. Word slowly spread about us, people came trickling in to see if the rumors were true. Our favorite regulars were an old hippy couple, Mark and Cheran. They both had dreads to their knees, Marks were steel grey, Cheran's a snow white. We loved seeing them, they'd spend days with us chatting about the valley and what's going on in the world.

One day a scout gave the whistle indicating that they were on their way up the canyon. Gama and I hurried with our preparations, while our host Ingoa and his wife, Keira, made hot tea and lunch for us all. We only got to see them once a month - it was always time to celebrate. This trip, I had my son Yuriah with me and he was meeting everyone for the first time. He had been down in the creek ravine when the scout whistled the arrivals, eagerly he scrambled up to find me.

"Mama! Mama!" he cried in his squeaky 6 yr old voice, I turned to see my tall boy running towards me, his brown dreads bouncing around his face.

"Yes, Yuriah?" I turned back to what I was doing with a smile on my face, he was my joy and hope. He would tell me when he got close enough, he didn't like to yell things to me over distances. Sure enough, not another word left his mouth as he ran up to me and then waited, panting until he caught his breath and I finished my work.

"Mama - was that the whistle for Mark and Cheran?" He played with my own coppery dreads, feeling the beads one by one, an old habit from when he was a babe in my arms.

"Yes, darling, it was. Now go clean up and ask Uncle Ingoa if he needs help in the kitchen." Yuriah beamed at the chance to help his "Uncle" and ran into the house. "If he doesn't need you, come out here and watch for them with me!" I called after him, I got a toothy grin and a thumbs up in response.

Gamma came over to see how I was doing on setting up the table with woven and kilned wears. He was a dear friend, a couple of years older than me with short blond hair and big blue-grey eyes. We were about the same height and size; around 5'9", 160 lbs. Since we were the scouts and traders for our commune, we were in excellent shape - at our peak even in our early 40s. Such a compassionate and gregarious man, it was always a pleasure traveling up and down the front range with him.

While we worked, Gama chatted cheerfully. "I'm so glad they are the first to arrive today, we'll get more time with them. Hopefully they'll stay for the duration of this trip, late night chats with Mark around the fire are like balm for my soul." He arranged the goat hair scarves and continued, "I know you look forward to your time with Cheran too. How wonderful that Yuri will finally meet them, you've raised a good kid there darlin, you have every right to be proud."

"Thank you Gama," I stopped and placed a hand on his tanned arm. "that means a lot to me, I'm just glad I have all of you to help. After Mick died in the Chaos Days, I was so afraid of what would happen to my little bearcub. I couldn't continue my work and raise Yuriah alone, without you so many things would've never happened. I shudder to think about the possibilities."

"Well, those possibilities didn't happen and we have not only survived but thrived because of the path which was taken. You are soul-family, how could we not help you with Yuriah?" He eyed the table and then winked at me. "Besides, the little guy is so easy to take care of, always joyful and respectful - it's not like we had to do a lot."

At that point, Ingoa and Yuriah came out of the side door, Yuriah trying to walk as calmly as his "Uncle", but looking like a hyper puppy on an invisible leash. His excitement over meeting so many new people, all legends of mythic proportion in his mind, was overwhelming his normally demure behavior. He looked so much like his father, all lean muscle and sinew coiled up tight and ready for anything, his face showing his emotions easily while his eyes were always calm, much wiser than his years. Those beautiful eyes, big and liquid, rich earthy brown in color and framed by the longest lashes. He would be tall like his father, who had been over 6'5" and built like a willow tree, strong and lean - able to bend under anything and withstand the harshest assaults. That was until the assassination, but no one can stop a bullet from a trained sniper if you don't see them coming. However, the tale of my husband's murder is for another time, I did not want to think of such sad things upon the reunion with Mark and Cheran.

As Ingoa and Yuriah reached us, we saw the big truck with a horse trailer attached to the back come around the bend and slow way down to make the turn onto the bridge. The trailer was new, all of us raised at least an eyebrow and looked at each other in excitement. No one towed one of those heavy things anymore unless it was full of some precious commodity, it took up too much gas which was quickly disappearing everywhere. Even though my son did not know this was unusual, he caught the sudden rise in excitement and started bouncing on the balls of his feet. He grabbed my hand and held onto it tightly, his small palms moist in anticipation, when he looked up at me expectantly I simply winked and nodded towards the approaching vehicle.