Ascension

 

The pandemic had changed them all. The population, the population as she saw it at least, was split into three groups.

One was doing all that they could to avoid the illness. A second smaller percentage, every 10 -20^th person, believed that there was no illness at all. Their numbers were rapidly dwindling. The remaining forty-five percent, they were truly dangerous. They were the Knoblickers.

The Knoblickers believed that the governments of every country in the world was involved in a massive cover-up. This pandemic was not a disease. It was a mutation. A bonding of the human race and that of an alien one. Space aliens of a far greater intelligence than our own.

It is why no one had ever actually seen a single body. The ill were not really dying. People were ascending to a level of mental and biological superiority no one had the intelligence to understand. Governments were keeping members of the new race separate from the general population until more could be learned about them. To say the Knoblickers were excited about this biological development coming along is a bit of an understatement.

In recent months, Knoblickers had been sneaking into public venues, hospitals and places closed due to virus contamination. They would lick things in their race to become evolved. Door knobs, faucet handles, toilet levers, anything touched by many, anything that had a strong chance of being contaminated. These believers were sick of the world they were living in, they were ready to move on, hence the name Knoblickers.

In the midst of all this, Myra Collins found herself quarantined on her estate with no one except her PA Wyatt for company. She was being very well paid by the studios to produce a vlog designed to boost morale. The pair would spend thirty-two minutes a day filming, unless the Knoblickers were rioting some place, taking calls, cooking up two and three ingredient meals, talking books and streaming options, and sharing easy tips for weathering this pandemic of epic proportions. Myra portrayed an upbeat and optimistic woman. A completely well-adjusted person. It was then, after working in Hollywood for over a decade, that she had truly learned how to be an actress. On the outside she was a perky, beautiful shoulder for the world to cry on and on the inside a fucking mess. Every morning she woke feeling like a fake and a phony and praying someone would save her from her life.

It was becoming damn hard not to drink. All the time.

Myra opened her eyes and looked at the cell phone on her nightstand quietly willing it to malfunction. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do another broadcast. Not today. Myra closed her eyes and went back to sleep only to be caught in a horrible dream. The same dream she seemed to be having all the time. She was out, hiking in the wilderness, alone. Birds sang and squirrels ran along tree branches. She watched as a doe and her fawn drank from a creek. Myra stopped at an open area, looking around and wondering where she parked her Jeep. It was getting late, time to head home. Instead of a parking lot she found herself standing on the edge of a cliff. The view before her quite beautiful. Breathtaking. Above, below, everything in front of her. Until the ground underneath gave way. Myra’s body moved rapidly as she fell only to be saved by her unconscious reaction to grab for something, anything that would stop her from meeting the ground below. She prayed gravity would not get the upper hand. Myra called out in her sleep for help. There was no one around. She called out until her voice began to fail her. Nothing happened, no one came. She watched as the rock she was holding on to slowly gave way. Myra was falling, falling, falling…

“Are you getting up?” A male voice asked.

Myra opened her eyes and found Wyatt standing at the edge of her bed. “No.” She responded. “I’m staying here until cannibals storm the grounds and eat what’s left of my deteriorating body.”

Wyatt shook his head. “There are no cannibals. Staying in bed would be a complete waste of a beautiful day.”

Myra doesn’t move.

“Come on. Get up lazy butt. We have a show to do.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You are all that is sunny and good in this apocalyptic world. They need you.”

A tug of war for Myra’s duvet ensued leaving Wyatt in custody of the blankets.

“Time to get up. We were going to work on the pool house toilets after breakfast.”

“They haven’t magically fixed themselves?” Myra asked.

“No Sweetie, they didn’t magically fix themselves.”

Myra got out of bed, wrapping her robe around her. “I’ll have you know that as an overindulged Hollywood personality I’m not supposed to have to do these things.”

“There’s a pandemic, everyone has to do these things. And you’re not overindulged. You have butt loads of money there’s a difference. Money means nothing when most of the plumbers are dead.”

“But not all of the plumbers.”

“The ones that are left are really expensive. Only people much richer than you are can afford them. Ones with penises.”

Myra raised an eyebrow.

“That’s right Sweetie you have to be a rich white man to get anything fixed during this mess and I don’t know if you looked in the mirror lately but you aren’t one of them.”