Future Fiction

Exodus (SciFriday Challenge 14 *Winner!*)

He pressed the archaic technology to his ear once again. "Two blocks north," murmured the voice on the other end. What had begun that night as an odd and amusing distraction was now beginning to frighten the unsuspecting teen.

A cell phone that wasn't implanted into the ear hadn't been a common means of communication in decades, so when one of the the rectangular behemoths actually rang in front of Ethan's home, it was more than intriguing. It started simply enough--only a quick, "Follow me," promptly succeeded by another ringing phone in the distance--but the more he followed the trail, the more personal the exchanges became.

"We can both agree that you don't want anyone to know about your secret stash, right? Go to the end of Jensen Street". The coercive voice clearly knew a few of Ethan's secrets. His better judgment deemed it obvious that he should turn around and go back home, but the voice was strangely calming and persuasive despite the blackmail.

As he drew nearer to his new destination, he heard once more the shrill tone that he had been following, and began to search for it's location. Quickly, he spotted the device placed upright on an old bench. Again, Ethan answered the phone.

"Get on the bus," the voice commanded.

As soon as the call disconnected, a self-piloting bus came into Ethan's view and halted in front of the bench. The door slowly slid open revealing the bus was entirely vacant. Curiously, the boy entered the transport and awaited the next call.

***

Thirty minutes had passed, but still nothing. As he stared outside his window, he could see the shrinking skyline of the city he had been leaving.

Then there was darkness. The entire city vanished into the night. A phone began to ring, but this time it was his internal one.

He accepted.

"Your city has just fallen victim to an EMP. Anyone and anything integrated with technology are gone. We've gone through much to extract you, so listen very closely to me".

Ethan hung on every word.