Fighting for Rain - BB Easton Page 0,50
are about to see heah … is a public execution.”
I drop to the couch and set my gun on the coffee table.
“Excuse me,” the reporter says, leaning into the microphone that Governor Fuckface stole from her. “Did you say … execution?”
“That’s right, young lady. The events of April 23 have given the human race a new lease on life, and we must protect it at all costs. We were facing global extinction due to our bleeding hearts, and the only way to enshuh that never happens again is to protect the laws of natural selection tooth and nail.” The motherfucker pounds his doughy palm with the butt of the microphone. “In the words of the late, great Dr. Martin Luther King Junyuh, ‘Desperate times call for desperate meashuhs.’ ”
“Governor, sir, I believe it was Hippocrates who said—”
He yanks the microphone even farther away from the leaning reporter. “We are no longuh countries divided! We are one race—the human race—and our sworn enemy is anyone who dares to defy the laws of natural selection again! The future of our very species depends on swift … just … permanent consequences.” His jowls bounce as he shakes his fist in the air.
“But, Mr. Governor—”
The balding piece of shit actually shoves the reporter back with his forearm and takes a step toward the camera. “Today, y’all will see the lengths to which your government is willing to go to protect you from evah havin’ to face the possibility of extinction again. We take this responsibility very seriously, which is why anyone reported to us for engaging in activities that save or sustain the life of someone with a terminal disability, injury, or illness will be tried within forty-eight hours and, if convicted, sentenced to death.”
The camera pans to the right, past the shell-shocked reporter and the gold-domed Georgia State Capitol building behind them, and swivels around to face a grassy clearing surrounded by people.
“From now on,” the governor continues, walking into view, “Plaza Park will be the final resting place for those who choose to defy the laws of natural selection in the great state of Georgia!”
The crowd cheers.
They actually fucking cheer.
“Because these criminals chose to violate the laws of naychuh, their bodies will be returned to naychuh as the ultimate atonement.”
At the governor’s gesture, the camera tilts down, revealing a four-by-four-foot hole dug out of the earth and a sapling with roots wrapped in burlap next to it.
“A Southern live oak, the majestic state tree of Georgia, will stand where these traitors fall as a reminduh that Mother Naychuh is the true lawmakuh now, and if we disobey her again, she will feed on us all.”
He pauses for dramatic effect and then barks, “Bailiff, bring out the accused.”
A tall, thin man in a cop uniform parts the crowd, dragging an older, white-haired guy behind him. He’s wearing a prison uniform that looks like it’s made out of the same burlap material the tree roots are wrapped in. His hands are bound behind his back. His eyes are blindfolded, and his mouth is gagged. He stumbles a few times as they trudge over the uneven grass, but he appears to be coming willingly.
My already-sour stomach turns putrid as I watch the bailiff stand him directly in front of the hole, facing the governor.
No. No, no, no, no, no …
“Doctuh Macavoy, you were arrested on April 29 at Grady Memorial Hospital for allegedly continuing the use of life-support procedyuhs after being ordered by your superiors to cease all Intensive Care Unit functions. During your trial on April 30, you were found guilty of this crime, and as such, you have been sentenced to death. If you have any last words, you may speak them now or forevuh hold your peace.”
The bailiff removes the burlap gag from Dr. Macavoy’s mouth.
He swallows, and with trembling lips and a quivering voice, he says, “Elizabeth Ann, I … I will love you forever and always. Take care of the girls for me. Tell them not to be sad. Tell them …” He sniffles. “Tell them whenever the wind blows, that’s me giving them a hug.”
By the time the gunshot rings out, I’m already halfway up the stairs.
Rain
I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears just in time, but I can still hear the gunshot blast and slump of a body falling into a hole even through my hands. The image of the gentleman in the burlap jumpsuit still blazes behind my eyelids, only now he is two men,