Elvort: Only one person in each era remembers the outside

By Nathaniel Munoz

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I know that you all are tired of living in poverty. I know that you all are tired of living in disease and fear of each other. Therefore, I, Abraham Gatlin, have founded Elvort. Elvort is an enclosed country… er… community where you can live in a simulation of a selected era of your choi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Munoz Publishing House
• Release date: Jun 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733825023

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Muñoz Publishing House

Copyright © Nathaniel Muñoz 2019

The right of Nathaniel Muñoz to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1976.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-7338250-2-3

Cover and Interior Design by Eight Little Pages

FOR MOM

Contents

PART 1

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

PART 2

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

EPILOGUE

AUTHOR BIO

Part I

1

Hey! Kid! Stop right there! Someone called out to me from down the sidewalk. Turning to look back at him, I noticed his particularly worn-down look, accompanied by two similarly worn-down friends of his. I knew they meant trouble.

My casual walk turned into a swift run. My swift run became a rapid sprint, although that wasn't enough to outrun them.

Where do you think you’re going, huh? one of them yelled after me.

Not again! Not again! I reached a corner and made an immediate right—directly into a dead end! Now what?! The trio followed me into the alleyway. The biggest of the group caught up to me and shoved me backwards, pinning me to the wall.

Give me anything you got that’s valuable, kid, he commanded.

I-I don’t have anything that’s valuable, I lied, discreetly reaching into my pocket and slipping my finger into my high school ring. It was the only thing valuable that I hadn’t sold since poverty struck the nation.

Pat him down! the biggest, evidently the head honcho, ordered his buddies.

They approached me and began patting down my sides. I quickly pulled my hand out of my pocket and punched the guy to my left in the jaw, knocking him backwards. His head crashed into the floor as he cried out in sudden pain. I could see the seal of the ring imprinted into his jawline as he laid there unconscious from the collision. The other mugger threw a similar punch at me, trying to mimic my move. I ducked, slipped under his arm, and bolted out of the alleyway. The remaining muggers chased me, abandoning their friend. I made a quick right towards the shack that I originally intended to go into to avoid them. I slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

The shack was basically a small house made up of a living room and a bedroom, just like every other shack in this block. The living room was littered with overstuffed shelves and cabinets, each cluttered with miscellaneous items and supplies. A kitchen counter and fridge both bordered the far wall. In the middle of the room stood a small wooden table, surrounded by four wooden chairs — though there was barely any space to pull them out. But, despite how cramped this place was, it was home.

Louis Harpp! You know better than to come running in here and giving your poor mother a heart attack! my mom exclaimed. She glanced down and gasped, noticing the blood on my hands. D-Did you get attacked again?!

Yeah, but don’t worry; it’s not my blood. A group of guys jumped me in the alleyway just across from here, I explained. It’s the fourth time this week!

Let’s clean you up, my mom said, I’ll be right back. She picked up a bowl and walked outside. She returned within seconds with the bowl overflowing with water from the neighborhood spout. She handed it to me, Get rid of that blood. It doesn’t suit you.

The shack door handle turned. I froze.

Breck Wilder, my best friend, poked his head in. His bright blue eyes stared directly at me.

What’s up, bro?  he asked, letting himself inside. As always, he wore a worn out plain white tee, ripped jeans, and sneakers.

I held up my bloody hands in response.

Again? That’s why you gotta stay indoors, man, Breck said. In this messed up world, introverts, like me, are more likely to survive.

I put my hands into the bowl. It’s not like I was looking to get jumped. I was just on my way to see Chef Silvia, I explained.

Chef Silvia? Why would you be on your way to her at this time? Ration Collection Hour isn’t open to our block for another two hours.

The other day, I saved her daughter from being jumped. So, she owes me a favor. I was gonna try to use that favor to get an extra ration of food, I said, drying my hands.

Mom, I’m gonna head over there now, before the line starts to form, I said.

No, you’re not. Those guys are still out there, she stated, You will wait until everyone from the neighborhood goes. There's safety in numbers.

Mom, those guys are everywhere. In our world, there is no escaping them, or anyone like them. There is only avoiding them. I-

I’ll go with Louis, Breck interrupted.

I said no, and that’s final! She said, picking up the bowl of bloody water and dumped it out the window.

Mrs. Harpp, with all due respect, you just said ‘There is safety in numbers.

She sighed. I guess I did. Just promise me you will be safe.

We promise, Breck and I said in unison, and left.

After walking in silence for a bit, Breck casually said, I hate our messed up world.

You're telling me, I agreed, I got jumped four times in these past few days. Before the Great Collapse, stuff like this was unheard of. People were actually civil. Now, you can’t go anywhere without worrying about getting jumped.

Yup. I miss the way things used to be. Remember all of the restaurants we used to have? Now, we are stuck getting tiny rations of the same food every day from the same place, because that is the only food that is not contaminated by disease, Breck said.

And pretty soon, it might get infected too, I added.

Breck sighed. Until then, I guess we'll just have to keep going to Silvia’s for chicken.

We reached a shack with the words ‘DAILY RATIONS HERE’ spray-painted on the outer wall. Breck and I went inside.

Welcome, mis amores! ¿Qué necesitan? What can I do for you? Chef Silvia called from the counter in her Cuban accent. She wore a stained apron and had her salt and pepper hair picked up in a hairnet. The room was small, with only a counter, a refrigerator, and a single oven.

Silvia, do you remember when I saved your daughter a few days ago from being jumped? I asked.

Of course! ¡Mi héroe!

Ok. Well, I was wondering if you can do something for me.

¡Claro que si! Anything!

Can you give me an extra ration of food? I asked.

Louis, you know that I am only allowed to make a certain number of rations a day. If I give you an extra ration, somebody else doesn’t get one. Lo siento, mi amor… If you want, I do have something I can give you. I have some information on how all this poverty will end in less than a day for some of us, if you would like, instead. Someone just told me this morning, y es muy interesante, She suggested.

That had to be a lie. There is no way it can be resolved so quickly. Curiosity got the best of me. How will it end?

You boys better not tell anyone. I don’t want to get into trouble before the grand announcement.

Don’t worry, we won't.

Do you boys know of a man by the name of Abraham Gatlin? she asked.

Yea, he’s the rich guy that practically swims in his money, while we struggle to survive, Breck said in disgust.

I agreed with him completely. How can he enjoy his money, knowing that the rest of the world is in poverty? There are only six people in the world who have significantly more than $50 on them at all times, the average monthly allowance given to everyone in poverty. These guys own basically all the money in the world.

Well, that ‘rich guy’ bought a large section of America and is making an enclosed country in which people can live without poverty nor disease, She said in an excited tone.

No poverty? No disease? I take back what I said about him! Breck said apologetically.

He will announce more details later. That is all I know, Chef Silvia said.

That sounds great! I highly doubt it will mean anything radical in our futures through. Thank you, anyway, I said, walking out.

Wait! She called. "Don’t forget today’s