Wagner, 22, was late for work, and his mother was 4 years overdue. He stomped his way down the gravel path separating the old golf course and the road. The golf course, more divot than grass, wasn’t maintained, nor was it repurposed. The old golf course was still known as “The Golf Course”, though it saw very little action aside for the occasional teens who would come and drive balls, in spirit of it’s initial purpose. There was no longer holes, flag-sticks or signs, and the green was now yellow, but the youngsters would start at one end of the course and banter to the other, hitting the balls for maximum distance as a sort of pissing contest that would repeat every 100 metres or so.

Among the frosted grass of the course was a small black-brown mass, it was unidentifiable from this distance but it was almost certainly roadkill. It was just to side of the path and Wagner had no choice other than walk past it. Upon closer inspection, it was a duck. It’s leathery feet pointed up and it’s green head was tucked up against it’s chest.

“Blue speculum, male Mallard” said Wagner to absolutely no-one. Wagner had spent 2 years on a course identifying birds and bird-calls, an insulting waste of time, judging most birds had long been extinct. It was clear to everyone involved, the job Wagner was heading into had nothing to do with bird-calls. Wagner realized he had been standing still, looking at the duck. He shrugged off a cold shiver and walked on.

Letting in a draft of cold air, Wagner made his way through the sliding doors of the medical centre. The centre was already buzzing with activity. Wagner walked past family planning, pediatrics, CT and Ultrasound, gynecology and finally the labour and birthing suite, all with a chorus of chatter and crying, backed by the maniacal rhythm of doors and rolling gurneys, to reach his office. Wagner opened the door precariously as to not hit anything and slid through into his office. His office? A small square not much bigger than a plane toilet. Wagner settled and began his routine, carefully putting on his latex gloves. On the desk was a small rectangular coffin. Inside was individually packaged blue sweets; “Pentos” they were commonly called. Wagner laid out a ring-binder full of names as well as 5 ramekins in a tidy line, each with it’s own blue sweet.

Now he waited. His tiny analogue alarm clock told him his first Fogey was due in 5 minutes, and his hands told him it was much too cold in his office.

As much as some liked to boast about hating the Fogeys, no one had the balls to pull the trigger. Wagner and his fellow classmates from the bird-call course had been “arbitrarily picked”. Only somehow, it was never the loudest “pro-youth” that would be chosen.

Wagner had 5 Fogeys scheduled that day, though it was common they would try to run from home the night before the execution. Most handed themselves in. In recorded history, no one had been on the run for more than a day.

There was a single knock. A younger face than expected peeked around the door. Partially leaning into the room, was a black-suited man, who’s tag read: 22 years old. He spoke through gasps of air, “They’re off the radar”.

In two years of work and as far back as Wagner could remember, no-one had ever gone “off the radar”. 40-plus Fogeys each had a tracking chip in the small of their back, set in a way that pulling on it or cutting it out would be paralyzing.

The man stood in the doorway as if he was making sure Wagner had heard him. Wagner’s eyes settled on the list of names in the binder, then darted up to the man. “How the fuck it that my responsibility?”

“Medical records!” he ordered.

Wagner read tracing each name along today’s list with his finger. “Skye, Atticus, Kaia, Jett and Liam” Wagner mumbled. All had been born on October 2nd 2034, all but Kaia, who had been born a day earlier.

“They’re all much too fit and healthy, im not sure how no-one realized they were all born one day apart.” Wagner confessed to the man.

Something told him he recognized the names, they were all ex-medical, somehow unmaimed by the 10 year radiation process, and were all now part of the few ticking over 50 years of age.