My stiletto high heeled boots create an eerie echo down this dark wet potholed street, lined with abandoned firebombed buildings. I’m not in the best of moods right now. This shitty humidity is really causing my black leather skirt to cling to my ass. I have to tug on it to just stay fucking comfortable. My panties feel absolutely drenched. I know, shit happens, that’s life. This damn weather manipulation that has left our biosphere so humid. Now we have continuous rain year round. Like we’re going back to the Jurassic period or something – right? And of course, I forgot to pack my umbrella before making this damn trip.
You have to excuse my French, I’m a Marine. I’m Colonel Ava Vickers, and If you can’t stomach my take no prisoners demeanor, now’s the time to skip away with your basket of posies. I’m not going to apologize for my brash behavior. I grew up having to be tough. No, I didn’t come from a poor neighborhood. I came from a military family. Each generation serving our country. My family has had a number of Generals serving throughout U.S. history. Vietnam, Korea, WW2 and WW1. Even back to the Civil War.
This was once a beautiful downtown area that thrived with business, but now, this is all that is left. A five-year-long civil war has left many major cities in ruins. This is 2039 and the United States has been fragmented into three republics. Each with its own president and Congress. Some rusted old historical street lamps provide the only light source out here now, but it’s something. Otherwise, it’s pitch black, no moon again. Don’t know what’s going on with that. Several drunks are leaning against abandoned burned-out buildings, their eyes are pasted shut as they sway back and forth, too wasted to even take notice. Yes, they’re prisoners to the bottle, just trying to escape this depressing reality. I don’t blame them in the slightest. If I didn’t have a mission to do, I’d join them for a shot.
I've become hardened in my years in the military. I was a completely different person many years ago. Life has changed so rapidly since society went on a steady moral slide downward. It started back in the 1950's. You see I was born in 1957, and Leave it to Beaver was my favorite TV show back in the day. That was my idea of society as a kid.
I know your doing the math and that would make me 82 years old. And you are wondering what's a 82 year old women doing on the streets in a black leather mini dress. You really don't want to picture that. And if you do, your one sick puppy, but that's besides the point.
I don't look a day over 25. You see a cure for the aging process was released back in 2022. They actually had the technology much earlier, but they kept it hidden. And who's they? The dark cabal, the shadow government that cut a deal with the Fallen Ones. You'll see how this all fits together down the road.
It was very expensive at first and only the elites could take of advantage of it. But as the science got better, and more cost-effective, it became available to the masses. Soon age regression of the elderly became common place. I was about 67 around then. It only took a few treatments, and within three weeks my cells became indistinguishable from a young person, my overall body strength is about double of what it use to be. My skin is wrinkle free, fresh and dewy like a baby. My hair back to its natural color with the sheen and bounciness I had some many years earlier.
I was brimming with energy and ready to restart my life. So instead of becoming board out of my mind, I left retirement, and reenlisted back into the Marines. Why the military again? It's all I've ever known, the corps is my life. Dad was in his late 80's back then, and after treatments, he came out retirement too.
The devastation to this district seems to look worse with each block I enter. Given my family background, this really disturbs me, because my patriotism ran especially deep, for a country I once loved. Now it has become just a ghost in history. It started with a Patriot movement that grew from the dissatisfaction of a growing majority.
The money manipulators had driven the economy into the ground. Many families suffered, the middle class had become almost extinct as high paying jobs moved overseas. Even the low paying retail sector went belly up, taking with it most of the low paying jobs. We became a nation of the few super wealthy, and the poor everybody else. Social service rolls swelled. Families to proud to take a hand out were soon forced to their knees. Starvation and homelessness was their only bleak future.
Then the shit hit the fan when the economy crashed. Power grids were down for months in many states, millions died. Starvation, street wars over turfs, you name it. It was survival of the fittest. Fighting for food, water and shelter. Many were forced to what they called re-education camps. It was horrible. Then a bitter civil war erupted among three political factions. Finally the states reorganized into three regions and formed new governments. Things simmered down for awhile.
A rat much larger than a guinea pig just ran past me – I gave it a slight kick to nudge it away. I’ve seen much bigger during my tour of duty in Syria. If I had the time, I’d put a collar and leash on the bastard and walk it the rest of the way. Being stranded out here alone, I should be scared shitless, but I’m not.
Anyhow got a meeting with a Nick Phillips, he wasn't at his office, but if I was crunched for time, we could meet at his favorite hang out spot to talk business. He gave me the cross streets of Olive and Broadway, and to be there around seven. He said he would be wearing a black cowboy hat with a gold band. So what came to mind of course was a Clint Eastwood look, like in his prime back in the 70's, yummy. I had such a crush on him when I was a teenage girl.
I really liked his voice and it got me thinking was there a possibility I might meet an incredibly mysterious sexy man tonight.
Someone who becomes my partner in my mission, someone who believes in what I'm doing, and puts his full support behind me. Someone I could really fall for – boy Ava, you can dream, alright slow down, let’s take things as they come.
You’ve got a mission to complete, this is supposed to be a business deal, remember? Besides, I know how sometimes the voice never seems to match what you imagine the person to look like. How many times have I gotten my hopes up only to be terribly disappointed on some of the blind dates I’ve gone on over the years. And your probably wondering who set me up on most of those dates right?
Dear ol' Dad of course. God bless his soul. He meant well, but I’ve always told him I rather meet my own dates, on my own terms. Since my Dad was a high ranking general, it was given that everyone he set me up with was of course military personnel. All of them high ranking officers in top end positions. Men with futures he always said.
Then he would always bring up how he married Mom when she was only 18 years old. And because I’m already in my eighties, that somehow I’m running behind some perceived time frame, I know it sounds hilarious. How was I to know I was going to live this long.