Chapter 1

Chapter 1.1:  Dark Rainfall

It's been a while since I've been to a funeral.  The last time was when my parents died.  Back then I was merely a small child, barely able to comprehend anything really.  Certainly nothing as trivial as the death of loved ones.  I never really made any close friends, and I have no idea if I have any family out there, but I guess in this day and age people like me are quite common.

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I drive my car slowly through the trail of wet dirt, checking around through all the sides of the car and checking my directions to make sure that I did not go the wrong way.  Pellets of dark rainfall patter against my car as my windshield wipers squeak back and forth.  I spot a huge mass of black umbrellas and begin driving in its direction.  People dressed in black as far as the eye could see.  Even in this day and age, the sight of a funeral for 457 dead employees is a rare sight.  This was only my department, the paperwork section.  I had heard afterwards that the 2285 employees from the research and development section were also killed.  I pull my black sedan into a parking spot and shut off the engine.  Hesitation sets in.  I stare straight into nowhere with my hands still attached to the steering wheel.  After a few seconds I snap back into focus and let out a huge sigh.  I reach back to grab my umbrella from the backseat and then step out into the rain.
A thick blanket of darkly coloured mourners greets me as I enter the cemetery.  There are people crying, families crying, people who probably showed up merely to pay respects, and people who showed up merely to make an appearance.  I wonder about my own intentions at this funeral as I sort of pick a spot amidst the crowd and try to look like I belong.  I look up at the burial site I happen to be standing in front of.  Frank Tomelli, Frankie Tomato as we called him, my supervisor.  Listlessly staring down into his six foot hole I wonder about how I should be feeling in a moment like this.
"Sabian?"  A voice from afar calls.  I had assumed, and was told, that everyone in the company was gone, everyone except me of course.  I wonder who else there is that could possibly recognize me at this funeral.  As I turn around to see who this mysterious voice came from, I spot a man walking toward me.    He is a middle aged man with slightly graying hair and a medium build that is just a bit on the chubby side.  He didn’t have an umbrella, but he did have on a black raincoat.  I manage to recognize him as Norton, my former boss from a small company I used to work for, my first real job.  He was the one that had recommended me to the bigger company that I worked for now, up until this incident of course.
“Jesus man,” he begins with astonishment in his voice, “when they told me that everyone at SEAR Technologies was dead except the guy who found the bodies, I had no idea it was you!  I came here looking for your plot you know.”  With my hands in my pockets, I glance down at the ground, unable to conjure up any response.
“Man,” he begins again after a slight pause, “and here I was feeling all guilty about the being the one that sent you over there.”  He reaches into his pocket and extracts a pack of cigarettes.  After pulling out a stick and placing it in his mouth, he pauses and looks at me in consideration.
“Want one?” he offers.  I have never smoked a day in my life, but on a day like today where you realize that a person’s mortality is always hanging by a thread anyways, I figure one wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
“Sure I guess,” I say with slight hesitation.  He pulls out another stick and hands it to me.  I take it and perch it between my lips.  Norton reaches into his pocket again and draws a shiny metal lighter.  Using his right hand thumb he flicks it open and ignites it, then reaches forward to light my cigarette, his other hand cupped around the flame to keep it from going out.  I lean my face in and poke the cigarette into the flame, which turns the tip into a glowing red-yellow.  He then uses the same flame to light his own cigarette, and then whips it shut with one hand.  With my thumb and forefinger I grasp the cigarette and hold it to my mouth as I suck in the toxic smoke.  I let out a huge smoke-filled sigh.  The rain creates the sound of a calm rattling.  People all around us are talking softly.  Both Norton and I stand in the rain smoking without saying anything.  I stare back down into Tomelli’s burial and blow a cloud of smoke in its direction.

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I remember standing in front of my parents coffins.  Everyone had told me stupid stories about how my parents went somewhere special, a better place.  The concept of death was too complex for my young mind at the time, and so the friends and co-workers of my parents felt the need to spare my precious spirit by lying to me.  I remember smiling and waving to the coffins when it was my turn to approach them, thinking that they were going on some sort of trip.
“Bye bye,” says the child version of me while grinning happily at the pair of coffins.  I don’t remember if it was raining that day.