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Post by Clinton Cool on Mar 21, 2020 20:52:33 GMT
A futuristic, dystopian prediction for the corona virus, by the members of the esteemed Thunderboat forum
Preface (Ricco)
23/03/2020 0830 hrs
Luke Gamble was 40 years old. As such, he should not have been queuing to pay for his trolley full of groceries at his local Aldi. 70's and older only was the rule. But he was hungry. Not just that, he had a wife and 2 kids at home, all 'self isolating', as one of the kids woke with a bit of a cough a few days earlier. They were all hungry. He'd tried to do the right thing but all the slots for home delivery were booked for the next week and a half. The shelves at his local Co-op were stripped bare and his visit to Aldi the previous evening had been a frustrating waste of time.
Luke wasn't a criminal. OK, he'd had a few brushes with the law when he was younger but so did many others off his estate. He had a tough upbringing but he'd got through that. Many would describe him as 'a good family man'. Certainly, he cared for his wife and children and worked very hard as a self employed window fitter, so he could provide for them.
Yousef Maharagi arrived in Britain via Germany. He was part of the wave of refugees/ migrants welcomed with open arms in 2015. Yousef was highly intelligent with a natural flair for technology and computing. Yousef quickly established himself within the hacking community. Having completed his degree his talent was quickly recognised and several city banks, along with other highly regarded and well established businesses, competed for his services. He finally accepted a role at the national grid. Initially his role was to report on aspects of the firm's digital security systems, from a talented hacker's point of view. He had an accelerated path set out for him, there was the opportunity for him to become the head of digital security within 2 years.
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Post by Clinton Cool on Mar 21, 2020 21:58:10 GMT
Chapter 1 (Ricco)
Luke's anger and frustration was growing by the hour. He'd been on social media before going shopping and seen various scenes and reports of panic buying. Despite the small number of people in the store there were no nappies for his one year old, they were down to the last few at home. The bread section was empty. In desperation he picked up a couple of packs of plain crackers instead. There was no meat to buy other than packs of ham. Despite promising his wife that he wouldn't think about it again his mind wandered back to money. He was self employed, worked hard, usually took 5 or 6 hundred home each week. It was enough, just, to feed and clothe his family. They had very few luxuries. He was now facing this reducing to 90 quid a week. If he'd been employed, it would have been 5 times this. He thought back to when he was younger, living on that notorious estate. Then, if anything or anyone made him angry he'd react with his fists. He was good at it, it gained him respect, and got him what he wanted. He felt that old rage rise up again. He'd promised his wife that he'd never use his fists again. She loved him, but one spell in prison when she had a young child was enough for her.
Yousef was later described by his fellow university students as polite, diligent, unassuming and a brilliant student. He didn't have many friends, preferring to spend his time alone in his room. He was from Iraq, liked football, especially Manchester United, that's all anyone knew.
Luke's shopping trolley was only half full as he approached the checkout. The anger was still there, almost choking him. There was fear too. Yes, he'd been a tough guy when he was younger but now he felt vulnerable, and he was scared.
Yousef had a happy childhood. His parents weren't rich but they had a nice house and plenty of food. He was popular at school. He studied hard but always had time for a laugh and a joke. He was generous and always happy. Everyone liked Yousef, he was invited to all the birthday parties. He was 14 when his mother died. The cancer spread quickly after the diagnosis. This tragedy, in a strange way, brought the family even closer. Yousef looked after Ibrahim, his younger brother, while his father went to work. Yousef thrived with this responsibility. He'd been close to his mother, he missed her dearly, but knew he must be strong for his father, and his brother.
It was a hot day in June. Ibrahim got the news when he arrived home from school. It was an accident, said the coalition appointed Iraqi policeman. His father was walking home from work when he was caught in crossfire between coalition forces and Iraqi insurgents. Yousef's world fell apart. He loved his father, he was his rock, in an uncertain place, in an uncertain world. As the weeks went by Yousef's grief turned to anger. The local gossip was that the shooting was no accident, that he was assassinated by a sniper for no reason other than that the coalition forces believed him to be a member of an insurgent group. Anger turned to rage. Yousef's life had no purpose now, other than to gain revenge against the people who'd murdered his father.
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Post by patty on Mar 21, 2020 22:36:32 GMT
Chapter 2.
Luke shuffled closer and closer to the checkout as his thoughts fixated on the task ahead.A man should not have to go to through these measures to provide for a family. Children of people like himself, supposedly the future now regarded plague carriers and condemned to life indoors. The elite, rich fat cats having milked the life blood of society, controlled. Life as they knew it had gone. To survive meant to diversify, as in all conflicts and catastrophes there were those who grew rich whilst the majority or 'expendables' were reduced to to see what now passed as the norm or essential. Seeing another man approach, the anger that rippled through, grew until it threatened to overwhelm. He consciously fought this enemy within, what attempted could not be deemed illegal and convinced that the disguise would pass muster he sought to calm chaotic churning. His appearance, thanks to diligent application of ageing techniques resulted in an appearance older than his 40 plus years. Christ knew, emotionally he felt more than old.
Clothing hung on a gaunt frame, checked shirt, brown corduroy trousers worn beneath shabby black overcoat. A scarf and dingy grey wooden hat hid lank shoulder length brown hair. Unshaven, unkempt, unworthy of a second glance, so why was this character honing in?
Meanwhile the unblinking eye of surveillance cameras monitored every aspect of civilisation. A task force surveyed multiple images, their purpose to collect specimens to use for research. Live guinea pigs that would be sacrificed in the search for a cure, many of the over 70's already interned. This, the real reason for the 'happy hour' shopping. Noble intent set aside in the drive to find a wonder vaccine, people simply vanished from view.
Elsewhere Yousef watched the watchers, his anger rising, there must be a way to bring the arrogant fools to their knees. The loss of his father would be avenged, death held no horror for a man whose sole purpose revolved around destruction. He cared not for the fate of others, yet maybe this generation could be used, directed into a fighting force. Yousef zoned in on the camera images.
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Post by phil70 on Mar 23, 2020 0:47:17 GMT
Chapter 3
Soon another joined the queue an elderly old gadger he was known to all as Fred though his birth name was Alfredo, he was Italian and had what many thought was a ridiculous surname but he was proud to be Garibaldi. He had come to this country as a child just after the war with his momma and pappa. At first glance he was a out and out cockney with a typical name, his age,accent, and name all said he was cockney but they hid the truth.
Fred found himself grasping a trolley and wandering aimlessly around a load of empty shelves. He had survived a lot during his lifetime but had never experienced anything like this.
Fred failed to understand why everything had gone, shaking his head and muttering to himself he had tagged onto the line of people at the checkout with a paltry amount of shopping .
Fred accidentally nudged the guy in front and muttered a brief sorry Luke turned and said that's OK while clocking the old gadgers trolly. His anger had somewhat abated and he struck up a conversation with the old fella. They exchanged names and proceeded to put the world to rights as is the want of the great British queues . The discussion centred about the stockpiling that so many selfish people had undertaken and as Fred was quick to point out there really was no need because there is ample food etc for everybody if they just did their normal shop. Luke agreed and wondered what the hell these peoples houses looked like with every inch of space crammed with food stuffs.
As they chatted a young girl ran in and promptly crashed into a customer heading for the checkout.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2020 8:44:43 GMT
Chapter 4
Carrie clenched her eyes tightly closed as if the action meant the morning had not yet arrived, she threw the cover over her head but the insistent chirp of her phone alarm penetrated the damp warmth of her huddle. She groaned and threw off the duvet swearing and cursing the phone, the cold air, but most of all the new day. She told herself yet again what an idiot she had been to leave Uni after the first year, no decent jobs to be found anywhere for a nineteen year old, despite being fit and healthy. In her darkest moments Carrie wished that she could somehow contrive to catch the coronavirus, at least she could then stay home instead of ramming frozen vegetables into cabinets. It had to be the worst job in the store during the coldest months, zero heating on the shop floor meant deep chill for most of her day.
Delicately sniffing the armpit of her uniform she surmised it would do one more day and dragged it reluctantly over her shivering body, before rushing out of the front door. Her phone now showed a flashing symbol… late again. Gabbling apologies at the checkout manager Carrie raced towards the staff room accidentally barging into the foreign gentleman intently watching Luke Gamble.
Youssef spun around as Carrie rebounded from his shoulder, momentarily shocked he reacted instinctively by grabbing her hair pulling her to the ground. Carrie yelped in pain, shoppers gasped their horror but stood rooted, almost immobile clutching packs of toilet rolls against themselves in protection. Youssef immediately realised his error and hurriedly let go of the girl, he lifted her to her feet apologising profusely for his actions.
Carrie winced and rubbed her bruised head. She contemplated the face of her attacker and saw deep within his eyes something of the pain and misery far beyond the irrational outburst. She held back the angry retort and placed her hand on his arm to calm him,
“It's okay," she spoke gently, "it was my fault but I admit I didn't expect to be thrust to the floor!” Youssef blinked a few times, took a deep breath and in a voice quavering with obvious emotion, he replied,
“I am so humbly sorry, please allow me to compensate for my anger”
“How?” said Carrie glancing round at the still bemused shoppers, “take me away from all this?” as she spread her arm around the small crowd. “if you have the virus we could share that perhaps” too late she realised this was possibly an insensitive comment and began to stammer a retraction, Youssef stopped her.
“I do not have the coronavirus,” he paused and continued truthfully, “well, as far as I know anyway, but I could take you away to dinner?” Carrie thought of the single potato in the fridge at home waiting for its microwaved doom and answered,
“Sure, but…” she was interrupted by the store manager loudly calling her name as he marched towards the assembled group, scowling at Carrie and hardly moving his tightly compressed lips he hissed,
“Please return to your job at once, there are peas to attend to!”
to be continued
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Post by phil70 on Apr 5, 2020 22:40:02 GMT
Carrie went off to attend to the frozen produce and daydreamed as she packed the freezers, she wondered about the wisdom of accepting a date with Yousef but mentally shrugged her shoulders and thought "I could be dead in a week or so and owe myself a decent send off"
With the freezers now full and her trolley empty she made her way back to the food storage area but decided to go the long way round via checkout
Thankfully the queue was still there as somebody was trying to pay with coupons. Carrie seized the chance to pass her phone number to Yousef and continued to refill her trolly at the back of the store.
In the queue Luke and Fred paused their debate to eye up the young shop girl who passed her number to Yousef
Luke muttered something about if he was 20 years younger while Fred smiled and said "or 40 years in my case"
Yousef stood proudly bathing in the admiration of the fellow Male queuers but on the inside he felt somewhat chastened at the thought of going on an actual date. He gave a sigh of resignation and began to think of a suitable destination. He thought for a while but had to accept there was nowhere open and he could not think of any place suitable.
Fred turned to Yousef and asked him where he intended going and when the answer came back as "nowhere" Fred suddenly realised the dilemma that faced Yousef.
Fred tapped Luke on the shoulder and asked for his input.
Luke shuffled as the queue moved along a bit as the coupon lady admitted defeat and paid with cash. She was followed by another coupon bearing shopper.
Luke's brow furrowed as he gave the matter some thought and after a moment a broad grin spread across his face .
Luke's place of work so to speak was on a off the beaten track industrial unit within which there was a stylised unit intended to showcase the type of work that was produced there.
Luke passed on his idea to Fred and the two now comrades took advantage of the site being deserted and set to decorating the display unit with Faerie lights and a hundred tea lights bought from the pound shop
Luke button holed Youseff and explained the plan, all Youseff had to do was turn up at the right time and leave the rest to Luke and Fred .
The 3 men gathered themselves together and chipped in all the spare cash that they had. Luke called in a favour at a local Indian Takeaway while Fred took the cash and purchased a half decent bottle of Processeco plus he took a bit of a liberty by borrowing suitable glasses from his local.
Come the evening Luke and Fred rocked up armed with plates and cutlery plus a box of matches
Trusting Youseff to do the right thing and arrive on cue Luke and Fred set to with the faerie lights and tea lights and transformed the place to look like a grotto. The boys heard a car pull up and leapt to their positions ready to act.
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