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The Price of Freedom
An unreleased short story from the book:
Disconnected: Hyperinflation: Dark Tales of a Broken Economy
John’s hands were shaking as he held the torn piece of paper, its edges curling from the dampness in the air. The note, written in frantic scrawl, was from a man he had once known—a man whose family had managed to escape the collapse of the city, to flee the suffocating grip of hyperinflation. The words on the paper were simple: “There’s a way out. Follow me. The cost will be steep, but it’s your only chance.”
For weeks now, John had watched as his world collapsed around him. His job had disappeared with the crumbling economy. His savings, once enough to ensure a comfortable life for his wife, Sarah, and their two young children, were now nothing more than numbers on a piece of paper, worthless in the face of rising prices and an indifferent world. The food stores had emptied, leaving nothing but empty shelves. People fought in the streets for scraps of bread, their faces hollow with hunger. Desperation had become a currency, and John could feel it crawling under his skin.
The government, once a beacon of stability, had dissolved into chaos. The elite hoarded resources in gated compounds, protected by private armies, while the rest of the world rotted away in poverty and despair. His neighbors had long since turned into strangers, each more concerned with their own survival than helping anyone else. John had tried to remain optimistic, to hold on to the belief that somehow, things would get better. But each day that passed made it harder to ignore the truth—the truth that this was the new world now. A world where only the ruthless and the desperate survived.
His wife had stopped crying. Sarah had grown silent, her eyes hollow, her body weakened by hunger. She still tried to smile at the children, to hold them close and shield them from the brutal reality outside their door, but John could see the fear in her eyes. The fear of what they might have to do to survive. She had asked him once, in a voice barely above a whisper, if they should leave the city, if they should try to escape. John had shaken his head, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how. There were no safe routes left, no way to escape the violence and corruption that consumed everything.
But this note—this note had given him a sliver of hope.
John knew the risks. The man who had written the note was no saint. He was a former business partner, a man who had cut ties with John long ago when their small business fell apart. But the note spoke of a way out, a chance to escape the suffocating grip of the city, to find a place where they could rebuild, where they could be free.
The cost would be steep, but he was willing to pay it. Anything to get his family out of this hell.
That night, after the children had gone to bed, John took Sarah aside. Her face was pale, a sharp contrast to the dark bags under her eyes. He could see the exhaustion in her movements as she tried to make the meager dinner, but the hunger was too much for her to fight off.
“Sarah,” he said softly, his voice tight with the weight of his decision, “I found a way out. There’s a place. A way to escape this.”
She stopped what she was doing, turning to face him. For a moment, he could see the spark of hope in her eyes, but it quickly faded, replaced by suspicion. She had become cautious, as if hope had become a foreign concept to her.
“Escape? How? The roads are blocked, the government is everywhere. There’s no way out, John.”
John’s heart sank. He had to make her believe, had to make her understand that this was their only chance. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the note, holding it out to her. She took it reluctantly, reading the words slowly, her face growing pale with each line.
“Is it real?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
John nodded. “I think it is. We have to go. We can’t stay here any longer. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
The decision was made, but as he watched Sarah stare at the paper in her hands, he felt a cold weight settle in his chest. He didn’t know what they would face. He didn’t know what this man wanted from them or what the true cost of their freedom would be. But he didn’t care. He had made a promise to his family, and he would do whatever it took to keep them safe.
The next day, as the sun set, John and Sarah gathered the children. They didn’t have much—just a few clothes, a handful of food—but it was enough to get them to the meeting place. They walked through the streets, their footsteps quick and nervous, their eyes darting around, watching for any sign of danger. The city was a ghost town, empty and quiet, as if everyone had already given up or fled.
They reached the outskirts, to a small, abandoned building where the man had told them to meet. John’s pulse quickened as they entered, his heart pounding in his chest. Inside, the man was waiting for them, his face masked by a hood. He gestured for them to follow, his eyes gleaming with a hunger John couldn’t place.
“This way,” the man said, his voice cold. “The road ahead is dangerous, but I have a route. A safe one. If you want to make it out alive, you’ll follow me.”
John didn’t hesitate. He would do anything to save his family. They walked through dark alleys, over rubble and debris, the city’s skyline fading behind them. Every step felt heavier than the last, and the silence between them grew oppressive.
As they neared the edge of the city, the man stopped. “This is where I leave you,” he said, turning to face them. “Your freedom is on the other side of the wall. But remember, the price of survival is never small.”
John’s heart skipped a beat as the man handed him a small, leather pouch. He opened it, his eyes widening when he saw what it contained—money, gold, a fortune that could have saved them, could have given them everything they had lost. The man’s eyes gleamed.
“You’ll give it all to me when you cross,” he said. “You’ll trade it for your lives.”
The words hit John like a blow to the gut. He knew what the man was asking, but he was too far gone now. He couldn’t turn back. He looked at Sarah, at their children, and knew that there was no choice left.
The price of freedom was everything they had—everything they were.
As they crossed the wall, the air seemed to thicken, and John’s stomach twisted. He turned back once, looking at the city they had left behind, the city that had stolen everything from them. But it was too late. They were trapped in a new world now, one where even survival had a price.
As they moved further into the unknown, John’s mind began to fracture, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Freedom had come at a cost—one that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
The future was no longer something to look forward to. It was something to survive.
And in the end, John realized the bitter truth: freedom didn’t exist. It had been a lie, a mirage in the desert, something that would never be attained, no matter the sacrifices made.
As the world around him turned colder, darker, and more unforgiving, John felt his heart grow heavy, the price of their freedom more than he could ever bear.
If you enjoyed this short story you will probably like our latest release available now:
Hyperinflation: Dark Tales of a Broken Economy
$3.99
In Hyperinflation: Dark Tales of a Broken Economy, the collapse of the financial system takes center stage, and the disturbing consequences of a world plunged into chaos unfold in brutal, unrelenting detail.
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