Post-Apocalyptic Parmaceuticals

            There went my pharmacist—my former pharmacist. He was a jaunty, jolly fellow, full of girth and mirth who bounced and swayed as he walked down the deserted streets of New York. New York had been deserted for some time, ever since the attempted Communist takeover of the eastern seaboard in the late 80s had provoked a massive environmental disaster when their nuclear bombings had destroyed the sewage factories along the major rivers, releasing gallons of radioactive waste into the water resources of the region. In a throwback to the destruction of Sennacherib’s army at the gates of Jerusalem, however, the destroying angel called upon the Red Army (apparently, the soldiers drank too much of the poisoned water) and it was mostly wiped out, with the remainder being called back to support various causes during the subsequent Russian civil war. Unfortunately for the Americans, the victory was Pyrrhic—the eastern US became virtually uninhabitable, and the government, leaderless after the Russian invasion, was unable to contain the chaos and eventually moved west of the Mississippi, leaving the East to lawless gangs, roaming bands of Russian deserters, and fiefdoms of those too poor or too stupid to migrate.

                The water resources were mostly unusable, but not completely. A few underground aquifers escaped the poisonous sewage, as well as a handful of streams in the countryside. Of course, millions of those who could not leave sickened and died as a result of the destruction, and battles broke out for control of the few remaining sources of pure water. Overtime, a few individuals gathered enough resources, power, and knowledge to refine the water on a limited scale to support small populations. As Europe and Asia were embroiled in a massive war for the resources of the Middle East and Africa, and the newly christened Secular United States of Western America was too poor and fighting Mormon millenialists, these individuals, with their limited knowledge of chemistry, duct tape, water filters, and guns, gradually acquired the ability to determine life and death amongst the uneducated, shell shocked, and rabble that remained east of the Mississippi. These were the pharmacists—the despicable leeches who profited from the anarchy and their relative superiority in science to exploit the remnant of the human species living a grubby life in the nuclear wasteland of New York, DC, Boston, and what was once of the glory of America, growing rich in a radioactive urban wilderness.

                But there were some who resisted, who recalled the old days when the area was the financial, cultural, and social center of the world. They were called the alchemists—those who sought to return the dull led of the East to its former glory days. They became a scourge to the pharmacists, assassinating them one by one and building up a compendium of knowledge so the common people wouldn’t have to rely on them. I am one of them. 

- James Juchau