A man and his electric school bus . . .
He had nowhere to go. Just forward. Just away.
“North. Keep going north,” was all he thought.
To a place where it was too cold for them to be. Away from his own kind that are no longer human.
“Just copies,” in his mind. “Digital duplicates.” Real in every way, they were, but still on the edge of that uncanny cliff. A cliff they all chose to dive off. Not quite what they were before, in the doing.
“Are they better than me now?” he thought.
His radio was on, as well as a CB and police scanner. All blaring static. The occasional blippity blip of something. Reminiscent sounds of an old modem but amped up in frequency. Unknowable to anything with ears made of flesh like him.
Echos of the singularity.
The voice of the new humanity. All as one. All inside the machine.
He kept the volume up high though. Just in case. Somewhere out there might be someone like him. Someone who chose to remain meat and bone. Someone that would join him. He had much to offer.
His electric school bus was full of supplies and survival tech. The bus ran on isotope batteries that would last a thousand years. He had enough of everything else to last a lifetime for a few. Enough to repopulate, if he’s lucky. Enough to live out his life gracefully and comfortably if he’s not.
“Welcome to Michigan! The Great Lake State,” said the sign up ahead. Soon after the roads got a little rougher. A “Welcome Center” and rest stop. He pulled off to take a look. See if anyone was there to join him. Or even just talk to. It had been months since he last saw anyone and that went very badly. Even when few and far between, the human being is still a bloodthirsty and selfish beast.
He parked. Grabbed his Tommy Gun and slung it over his back. A colt 45 revolver for each hip. The coast seemed clear. He got out and approached. A big info kiosk was out front. A map of Michigan with a “You are here!” encased in glass. He looked around for a second.
“Who do you think is going to say anything?” he thought.
Next he pulled out a colt and smashed the the glass with the grip. He took the map, folded it carefully, and put it in the left breast pocket of his leather coat.
Then a noise.
From inside the building. Something … metallic?
He got ready with his tommy. The last thing he wanted to do was kill another anybody, but he would again if he had to. “I’m coming in and I’m armed!” he yelled. “I don’t want to hurt you but I will defend myself! I just want to talk. Ok?”
He approached the glass door and looked inside. No one there. He opened it and went in. Silence. Just the whir of vending machines. Still powered. Probably running on the same batteries as his bus.
The noise again right behind him.
He spins around ready to lay waste with his tommy. One of the vending machines rattles. A can plops out on a top of a pile of many more the machine made. Dr. Pepper this time. It rolls over to his feet.
“Oh. Well hello Mr. Mysterious Noise. Glad to meet you.”
He took it and opened it. The can was cold. He gave it a quick whiff and drank the whole thing down right then and there. A delicious memory of civilization at its peak. At least the peak of humanity’s civilization. Something else was on the rise now.
He gathered a few more. Scavenged a while for some goodies in the other machines or anything else of use. Got back on his bus and hit the loneliest of roads again. “North. Keep going north,” was all he thought.
And finally, if you liked this, then please heart and share it. I need to make a living at this “writing thing” someday soon. Thanks.
