Life is an act. An individual’s outward personality is nothing but a mask forged to garner acceptance in a world without truth. 

Damian knew this all too well. Everything in his life was an act. Working in fast food as he had, the number one commandment had been to always smile and be polite to customers even when 90% of the time they deserved a round of apple bobbing in the deep fat fryers. Life was miserable, and the job eroded any faith in humanity, but you kept smiling and said what people wanted to hear despite the truth of the matter.

This is true for all aspects of life. A common greeting is to ask how one another are doing, but it would be a breach of social etiquette to actually express any real feelings of sadness. Life was about putting on a strong front. 

When his wife had died and he had been left to care for a small child, everyone constantly asked him how he was coping. The answer was always ‘fine’ despite the darkness and hopelessness of his thoughts. His love was gone, his child would never know a mother’s love, and he was struggling to make ends meet. But he had to be strong. There was no other path to take.

Gods were much the same way. They were mental shields of strength designed to fortify the inherent weakness of humanity. Men needed gods to guide them. The Bible had got that right at least. Humans were sheep, too stupid to choose the right directions without somebody to show them the way and stop them from straying. 

Flames burned brightly, illuminating the darkness of night. A whole block of flats would be nothing but ash and rubble by the morning. That was the fate of any who opposed Damian Smithson. That was the price of order.

“All resistance has been quelled,” reported a dark-skinned man with greying hair. “Twelve dead. Eighteen came over to our side. Another six fled the scene.”

Damian nodded. “Good. I take it that none of our men were hurt too badly. The plan was as foolproof as humanly possible under the circumstances. It would all be so much easier if they just listened to me and joined us without a fight.”

“Humans love to be led but they’ll never make it easy. We are a people of contradictions. We are ever changing yet are so resistant to any change that they will drag their feet every step of the way. It will get easier.”

“Too easy I fear,” Damian sighed. “Tell me Jonathan, what gives you the faith to keep moving forward? You are a man of belief belonging to the Church of Redemption yet you follow a man who seeks to destroy the very foundation of your being. Why?”

“You can destroy the church and all organised religion if you wanted to but you cannot destroy belief itself. What I think and feel in my soul cannot be altered by you. Besides, your heart is in the right place. Like our Lord, you strive to be the father to humanity and guide us to a better future. Sometimes that requires unpalatable actions.”

Damian considered these words carefully. He had never considered himself a leader but here he was now. No point slowing down or doubting himself. It is amazing what humans can achieve against the odds with nothing more than a blinding confidence in themselves.

His thoughts were interrupted by a young man who came rushing to his side. The boy had been a delinquent from one of the previous gangs that Damian had dealt with who had seen the error of his ways. He was a good kid now that he had some motivation.

“Sir, I just spoke with some of the local lads. The only other major group in the area is a bunch of women. They say that all the women joined up and took over a school campus a few miles from here. Everyone who’s tried to break in has been beaten back.”

“Good for them. That is the kind of attitude that should be applauded,” Damian told them with a satisfied nod.

“Should I gather everyone up ready to pay them a visit?” 

“We are not conquerors and nor is the world our enemy. We should praise such groups, not march upon them in force. I shall go alone to speak with them.”

Jonathan nodded his head. “What are your orders for the rest of us?”

“Secure the area and comfort what people remain here. Begin the usual changes.”

“Sir,” the older man answered before leaving. 

Now Damian was alone. His Amelia was back at the church with an elderly woman who had reared five children of her own. Damian had no doubts that he could protect his baby but there was no reason to subject her to potential danger or the sight of death. He wanted her to grow up happy in a kinder world.

With that ambition firmly in his mind he set off toward the school that the locals now knew as the Shelter. He had always had a good sense of direction and found his way easily through the destroyed streets to the outskirts of the town where a collection of buildings sat huddled together a short way away from any other structure.

The area around the gated compound was in ruins but the school buildings themselves looked fairly undamaged. Damian approached the gate at a carefree pace then waited in front of them. At first nothing happened but after a few minutes the doors to the largest building opened and a group of women started to head towards him.

“Why are you here?” asked a dark haired woman when the group arrived at the other side of the gate. She was stocky but had fair skin and wrapped dignity around herself like a cloak. “Men are not welcome.”

Damian considered the woman’s words and offered her a small smile. “A fair policy during these troubled times. It will not help to rebuild society though. Humanity must stand together, not become divided over such trivial things as gender. It is what is inside of us that counts, not that which lies between our legs.”

“We will not support any rebirth of society based upon patriarchy. Men have caused all of the world’s problems throughout history so now we will make our stand,” the woman announced passionately. Some of the other women nodded their agreement.

Damian frowned. He had not expected this. He didn’t really understand it either. Sure, men were bastards who would kill you in a heartbeat and couldn’t think past money and sex for long in too many cases, but women were no better. Men tended to know that they were simple creatures and were happy enough to acknowledge it while women wrapped themselves in denial.

“You attribute so much evil to us but most men just try to get by, earning enough money to support their families.”

“Support? More like enslave,” she spat. “They tell us that we are weak and stupid then make us reliant upon them. Men cage us in marriage then use us to cook meals, rear children and have sex with. All men are oppressors, no matter how noble they believe their intentions to be.”

Damian was at a complete loss now. How did you reason with people like this? The scientific method to do so is that you simply can’t. Once again, these people’s personal reality supersedes the universal reality and cannot be shaken by such petty things as evidence or logic.

A slow fire had begun inside of Damian that took him by surprise. He was angry. He had worked hard all of his life in a job that he hated to pay for his ill mother’s care home, support his wife and then to bring up his daughter. If he was going to be vilified for trying his hardest to be a good man then he would give them something to vilify him for. 

Fiery sparks began to spiral in the centre of his palm until the appearance of yet another woman like a valkyrie from the skies caused him to cut them off abruptly.

“What is going on here?” the new woman asked with all the authority that the words could hold. “Fay, you have been told to report to me when outsiders arrive.  You’ve tried to go behind my back too many times. Go back inside and wait for me in my office while I speak with our guest.”

“He will only bring us trouble,” sneered the first woman

“Now!” snapped the newcomer. The group of women reluctantly turned and made their way back up the path to the building.

Anyone who believes that human society automatically veers toward patriarchal rule has clearly never seen a ‘mother hen’ type woman in action. Her word is law and some cosmic force ensures that everyone obeys. Men might seem outwards in charge but it is only the barbeque effect. Have you noticed that, in most cases, it is the women who cook 99% of the family meals but when it comes down to cooking meat outside on an open flame that it is suddenly the men who take charge? Men like to look powerful and in charge to fulfil their masculine ego when it is a public occasion then are happy to sit back and let someone else do all the important stuff. Rulers work in much the same way, appearing as figureheads while secretaries and advisors wield the real power.

The woman was short and had frizzy hair. She looked like she should have worn glasses, but then glasses were pointless after the Change. She wore jeans and a jumper that both appeared undamaged.

“Sorry about that,” the woman said. She began to open the gate. “We don’t get many peaceful men come here. At least, I hope you are peaceful or you will regret it.”

Damian held up his hands placatingly. “I’m here to talk, nothing more.”

“Good. I am Julie Winters. You could say that I run this place.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Damian Smithson. I lead Redemption, the largest group in this area.”

Mrs Winters nodded. “Yes. I have had word of your organisation’s progress. You have achieved much in such a short time. I expect that you are far from finished through.”

She led Damian inside the building. The place still looked clean and orderly compared with the outside world. Tables and chairs had been moved and hastily arranged bedding filled several of the old classrooms. The women who moved around the corridors were not scared refugees seeking shelter but confident and in control. Damian was impressed.

He was shown into a small office containing two chairs, a desk, and pile upon pile of paperwork. Mrs Winters took the seat behind the desk and motioned for Damian to take the other. She took a small notebook from one pile and opened it up, a pen in her hand held like a cobra ready to strike.

“Please ignore the mess,” she told him. “Keeping track of supplies and who is doing what has proven to be a huge part of my recent life. You don’t realise how much space all of that data takes up without computers.”

 Damian sat and tried to look at ease. He felt uncomfortable here but couldn’t let it show. He couldn’t look commanding either though. 

In as friendly a voice as he could manage he slipped into salesman mode. “You have done well for yourselves here,” he began. “This is an island of calm in a raging ocean of chaos and death. May I ask what your plans are?”

Mrs Winters sighed faintly. “We are undecided. This place was set up as a sanctuary for people to come to and feel safe. Many here see no reason to alter anything so long as we are able to continue offering safety.”

“Tell me, do you believe that humans are fundamentally good?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you think that humans are good at heart and are driven to do evil by circumstance or are they flawed, selfish beings? Nature versus nurture?”

The woman frowned and was silent for a while. When she made no sign of answering Damian continued.

“What I am asking is: do you believe that if we leave the people outside of these walls to their own devices that they will pull together and end the violence or continue to rampage until the world is too damaged to recover? Can humanity walk the correct path without a shepherd to guide them?”

To be honest, nature versus nurture is a flawed human concept. Good and evil only exists to humans. Every other creature on the planet only does what is needed to survive. As babies, humans are selfish sacks of meat that scream and cry for its needs to be fulfilled and this continues as a toddler. They snatch other’s toys and throw tantrums to get their own way. Cruelty, honour, mercy and hate are all distinctly human traits. It doesn’t matter either how good a person is as they are only ever two meals, (or two cups of tea in England), away from breaking down and stabbing someone thirty seven times in the chest.

Mrs Winters fixed unwavering eyes onto Damien. “I suppose that things won’t get better without people trying. Society needs to be led. I assume that you feel that it is you who should be this leader?”

This was the moment. Damian’s next words would determine the future of the world. He didn’t know this. To him it was the balancing point in securing more allies but it affected so much more than he could ever have guessed.

“When the Changed happened I became stronger than those around me. Not only in my body but in my conviction of making this world a good place for my daughter to grow up in. She is my world. I didn’t want any of this, I was a struggling widow working in fast food, but I was given the power to make a change. To not use that power would be the real sin.”

“Are you a religious man, Mr Smithson?”

Damian laughed softly. “I am just a man. I believe that which I can apply logic to. Sadly, religion and logic do not see eye to eye. God is fundamentally a contradiction of himself, not to mention all of the contradictions in the Bible. How could God be all powerful yet choose to let people suffer? He would not be all loving in that scenario. Why pray to Him when, being all knowing, He would already know everything in your heart and head so would not need you to tell Him? Why do you ask?”

“Some would see you as chosen,” Mrs Winters said slowly. “That perhaps you are destined to greatness. By God or by Satan, somebody must have blessed you. Either way, let’s not beat around the bush. What do you want from us?”

“Want? It isn’t really a question of wants. It is a need. Humanity needs us to work together. Your group is the last collection of people in this town that haven’t pledged themselves to me. Can you imagine how rare a unified area is right now? I don’t ask for your loyalty, but for your cooperation.”

Mrs Winters watched him closely as he spoke. Damian felt uncomfortable under that calm scrutiny. He had grown used to anger and abuse. That was something he could deal with. Reasonable people felt much more intimidating these days.

“I sense a lot of darkness in you, Mr Smithson. You have a great gift, and we both know that you’ll use it violently. There will be a lot of blood on your hands by the end.”

Damian nodded, keeping his own eyes fixed on his thin hands. They were hands that had killed men, but then they were the same hands that comforted Amelia. 

“Great good demands great sacrifice. Somebody has to do it. Every drop of blood on my hands, and every bit of extra weight on my soul, is one less burden for the children that follow in the path we carve for them.”

Mrs Winters seemed to stare into his soul, assessing the damage it had already sustained. A kettle began to whistle from a small fire that burned in the corner. Only then did the woman look away. As she busied herself pouring out two cups she spoke slowly.

“I am willing to listen to what you have to say. Just know that we will not be bullied or threatened. I’d rather see humanity die out than build a society on the subjugation of the women in my care.”

“That is a fair stance to take. Let us begin then.”

Previous – Chapter 5. An Electrifying Transition.

Next – Chapter 7. A New Look.