Humankind_Saga 1

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Humankind_Saga 1 Page 24

by Mic Shannon


  They emerged into the morning sun, the wind bringing a slight chill as of late that made her grab her arms. The boys emerged as well, still in a tight group. A few had been fighting recently, and she wondered how Ms. Tanya had ever managed to take care of this many children without going crazy.

  A few days prior she had stood in line and signed up all the boys for school. The next day, they whisked them away into the Headquarters building. After class, she had questioned them about it like a concerned mother. The responses were minimal, but she was skeptical from the start.

  “You ready for school?” she asked the boys enthusiastically, trying to keep their spirits up.

  They groaned at her motherly attitude, feeling like she had since changed into a concerned guardian instead of the young girl they had arrived with. Manny laughed at her question, then walked over to her and patted her on the back.

  “Relax, sis,” he joked, “we don’t do anything anyway!”

  “Really?” she asked, confused, “so what do you guys do all day?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, just play with the riot gear and mess with the staff all day. Ms. McDonald is always joking with me. She said she likes me.”

  “Umm, okay,” she said, squinting, “so they haven’t been teaching you anything at all?!”

  “They don’t even have teachers…”

  Cynthia scoffed and looked up toward the sky, calming herself. She couldn’t believe it. No teachers? Why did she even sign them up for school?

  “Oh yeah,” Manny interrupted, “Ms. McDonald wants me to clean her office today after school.”

  Cynthia looked at him, then looked away. She didn’t like the idea, more specifically the woman herself, but she didn’t want Ms. McDonald to dislike Manny for rejecting her request.

  The walk through the square was monotonous, and was beginning to drive her crazy. She shifted her eyes back and forth, worried about thieves, racists, a murderer on the loose, and even less trusting of the State Police tasked with protecting them. She thought back to an old TV show that Derek used to watch on Fr33ChanneL called “Hard Time”. She felt like one of the inmates, walking the yard amongst the menace of society, constantly eyed by the guards. Construction was ongoing, with small compounds combining into larger ones, growing their compound to nearly twenty thousand people in just a small area of five square miles. McDonald oversaw six compounds, with other appointed officials under her directive.

  When they reached the other side of the square, Manny and the other boys broke off and headed toward the Headquarters building, where breakfast and a long day of goofing off would be waiting for them. Cynthia grumbled, not from jealousy, but because she didn’t like the idea of sending them to a silly daycare where they didn’t have the opportunity to learn.

  Her and Natalie continued over to the extra-long line that had now begun forming outside of the café. To the right, another one was being built, but for now, they would have to wait. Cynthia looked at the construction, glad that it was happening but slightly perturbed that it had taken this long to address the obvious issue of overcrowding.

  To the east, they were still upgrading the Medical Facility. The generators were connected into the power grid and their network infrastructure had been upgraded to a below-average one terabyte per second speed. To the west, the new upper-class facility was almost complete, and they were beginning to move the first of the rich, famous, and elite into their segregated, resort-style hell hole.

  Suddenly, a shoving match broke out further ahead in the line between two older men. Cynthia watched as they began to swing, but she didn’t react. Her level of awareness heightened, but she bottled her anxiety deep inside where no one else could observe it. It was like a new skill that she had learned. How to be around perceived danger, and convince herself not to react like a frightened child. Externally, she stayed calm, but internally, she was a becoming a nervous wreck.

  State Police bombarded the line, shouting and pointing their shock guns. Everyone near the two men put their hands up high where the police could see them and backed away. Even the two men who were fighting put their hands up, dropping to their knees and surrendering themselves to be put in magnetic cuffs.

  Cynthia sighed. That could have easily ended differently. She didn’t know who she would run across at the facility. It was a true melting pot. From the gullible, to the cynical, to the outright insane, she never knew what the next moment would bring.

  “So’d you hear about the girl?” whispered Natalie.

  “What girl?” she asked.

  “Shh,” she scolded, “the body.”

  “Oh,” replied Cynthia, leaning in, “no, what happened?”

  “She was raped, and then strangled to death,” whispered Natalie, scrunching her eyebrows and frowning, “Crushed windpipe and a face full of bruises. Her name was Camila. Nineteen-year-old Hispanic girl. No family.”

  Cynthia shuttered at the thought of the victim hitting so close to home. That was her exact demographic, and that girl was little more than a year older than her.

  “Whoever did this chose their victim,” whispered Natalie.

  “How do you know all this?” asked Cynthia.

  Natalie cracked a smile then cut her eyes into her thousand-yard stare, “You don’t worry about that. I just need you to do me a favor.”

  Cynthia looked over at her, “What’s that?”

  “Don’t tell anyone about my late nights out.”

  --- 2:29 pm ---

  Fort Benning, GA, USA

  As Michael stood in formation, drenched in sweat from a combination of the hot summer day and the uncomfortable Army Service Uniform, he had mixed feelings about the conclusion of training. The graduation ceremony was a ceremony of tradition and pride, but he just wanted it to be over. There were no families in attendance. No one to witness the moment of their transformation. It was the first time that the program had graduated soldiers without an audience. It was eerily quiet without the praise of friends and family, just another turning point in their lives; a turning point toward impending doom.

  The base commander concluded his speech and dismissed the company, making them the official property of Uncle Sam. There was very little excitement. They had no one to hug or kiss or even tell about the trials and triumphs of their training evolution. There was just anxiety and fear. They made their way back to the barracks and began to pack their things. Their orders were to depart in the morning.

  “Attention on deck!” yelled one of the graduates as Staff Sergeant Masterson walked into the room.

  “At ease, I’m not an officer, Dickson,” barked the Drill Sergeant, “or didn’t you learn anything from the past month here.”

  “Sorry, Sergeant,” he responded immediately, “I forgot that we aren’t recruits anymore.”

  “Alright, gather around me,” yelled the Staff Sergeant with authority. The privates dropped their things and gathered around him.

  “When I call your name, I need you to line up right here at the front of the squad bay, hooah?”

  Every time Michael heard that familiar Army motivational word, he thought about his time at the community college with Cynthia and Manny. He thought about how much he missed them. How things were before the landing.

  “HOOAH,” yelled the platoon in unison.

  “Ok,” began the Sergeant, “Johnson, Garrett, Taylor, Bridge, and Thompson.”

  The Privates scurried up to the front and snapped to attention.

  “You five, you’re assigned to the first air wing. The rest of you are attached to Ground Force One, the new joint military command. Finish packing your things, and meet me outside in fifteen mics, hooah?”

  “HOOAH,” they yelled in unison.

  The new Privates went back to packing their things. The Staff Sergeant stood there for a moment, then reached into his pocket and began toward the door. Stopping in front of Michael’s bunk, he lifted his chin, “Hey Son.”

  Michael stopped packing his bag and looked up
.

  The Staff Sergeant leaned in, whispering, “I know what happened. But I had no business teaching you how to handle those guys. You had to learn that on your own, you understand?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” he responded, nodding his head.

  “It’s not gonna be the last time,” he said, looking directly into his eyes with his signature callous stare, “but remember the lessons that I taught ya. We’re all brothers, all humans. And brothers may fight, but they always protect each other.”

  The Staff Sergeant stood back up, looking Michael up and down, “Now carry on, Private!”

  Masterson slapped an envelope into his chest, then walked off toward the door. He examined the envelope, covered with colorful hearts and ‘I love you’s, then tore it open in anticipation.

  “Dear Mike,

  I heard that you graduate this week, and although I’m sure that this letter will reach you before then, I just wanted to say congratulations in advance and that I love you for the man you’ve become. I will always be with you, praying for your return, so please don’t ever feel alone while you’re away from me. Just know that when you come home we’re getting married and that’s the end of it. I love you Michael, and I want to feel this way for the rest of our lives.

  Sooo the President came to visit, like, a few weeks ago. She gave some stupid speech about hope and the future of humankind. It was like, inspiring or whatever, sure, but it didn’t really outline any plan. Classic politician I guess. I want to believe in her, but I need to know the truth! I don’t know what to believe anymore. I look around, and we’re all packed in here waiting, but no one knows exactly what’s going on! No one has received any news since they shut down social media and TV news networks. The guy with the mole who’s counting the shootings is trying to start a local newspaper, but that’s about it.

  In other news, do you remember Christie McDonald? That lady that helped legalize Crimmigration? Well she’s the one in charge here and it’s bad. I mean, really bad. Manny got some things stolen from him, and so did Sammy. There’s fights every single day. Also, a woman was murdered last week not far from our huts. Yes, murdered. She was around my age too. I’m so scared, but I can’t show it here. It just pisses me off that they aren’t doing anything about all this crime. That lady makes me so mad I just want to punch her. She just doesn’t care about people.

  Manny is doing okay. I don’t see so much stress on his face anymore. I think he’s coming to accept things the way they are, which seems to be good for him. Me on the other hand, I think that’s my biggest fear. I don’t want to accept things the way they are. I don’t want to be without you and accept it. I want things to change, so that you can come home. I love you, Mike, so do whatever you have to do to return to me.

  Soo, I have some pretty big news. I mean, I’m not sure yet, but a few weeks ago when they were handing out tampons, I realized that I haven’t had my period yet. I dunno, it might be late because of the stress, but I just wanted to let you know.

  Anyway, I guess I just needed to vent. I miss you. Please write me as soon as you can. If you can’t, I understand why, but just know I’ll be worrying about you all day until I hear from you.

  Love,

  Cynthia”

  Michael sat and thought for a moment, in awe. Pregnant? Was he actually going to be a father? He smiled, then thought about the last time they had sex. Maybe she was just late, like she said. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being there for his child if she had conceived, so he immediately dismissed the thought, attempting to shield himself from his own feelings. He folded the letter up and put it inside of his bag with the others.

  WED, JULY 5th, 2034

  700 mi Northeast of Alexandria

  9:39 am

  T he Medical Trauma Tents that were positioned directly outside of the gate had since been transformed into a triage of several large steel-kit Medical Buildings. Cynthia and Natalie had paid close attention to it all, taking a vested interest in whether the President was keeping her promise to build up the facilities with the proper amenities.

  Several doctors had been volunteering their time since the beginning, creating their own shift schedules, and were now starting the process of creating medical records for everyone at the facility. They worked double shifts to get everyone’s records documented, and with Cynthia paying close attention, she was curious to finally go see the new Medical Buildings in person.

  After breakfast, the State Police called for all the A’s, B’s, and C’s, collecting them en masse by the front gate.

  “Take care of the other boys and I’ll meet you by the huts later, okay?” said Cynthia to Manny, worrying like a concerned mother as she gathered the first group of boys to head toward the front gate. Before she could walk away, Manny grabbed the sleeve of her dingy hoodie.

  “Can I come with you?” whispered Manny to Cynthia quietly.

  She paused, “Why? Is everything okay?”

  “Well…yeah,” he said, cutting his eyes, “I mean…I just wanted to see how auntie is doing. It’s okay though…”

  Cynthia scrunched her eyes, nodding, “Okay, come on.”

  Manny flashed a smile.

  “Watch them for me please, Nat,” she said, lifting her chin at her. Natalie nodded.

  Cynthia turned toward Manny and plucked his ear, causing him to wave her off. She felt like she really was becoming a mother. Cracking a smile at the idea, she touched her stomach briefly then dropped her hand. She still had not had her period, and it drove her crazy, poking back into her thoughts at random times throughout the day. Part of her really hoped she wasn’t pregnant, not now. But the other part, if Michael didn’t come back…

  She shook off the idea then took the boys over to the front gate, waiting to be led to the Medical Building. She waited, anxious to finally be leaving the walls of the facility for the first time. With any luck, she could at least get the scoop on Ms. Tanya. She worried for her. The boys had been asking about her, and they had been given no answers.

  The State Police by the gate flanked the group on either side, resting their thumbs on their belts or holding their vests by the collar and resting their arms. No one talked, especially not the Police, maintaining their mentality of ‘us vs. them’. It was creepy, and for the first time in her life, Cynthia decided that she didn’t like that stigma.

  The front gate opened with a flash, sliding apart at the middle and slamming against the sides of the outer gates. And just like that, she felt free.

  “LET’S GO!” shouted one of the Officers.

  The group exited through the gate as if they were entering a foreign land. Everyone began looking around at the scenery, taking in all they could about the surrounding terrain. Immediately in front of the gate was a long road, winding into the distance in opposite directions. On the opposite side of the road was a grass field, stretching about five hundred feet to the Medical Buildings. She had remembered seeing the tents on the way in, when the doctors had pulled a sick Ms. Tanya from the bus during her diabetic shock for examination.

  Cynthia looked around. She honestly didn’t know where she was, somewhere in Illinois she’d been told. In the far distance, miles she presumed, she could see skyscrapers stretching high above the horizon and immediately guessed.

  Crossing to the other side of the road, the group entered the grass field and began the walk to the Medical Building. Behind Cynthia she could hear whispering. She turned her head trying to listen inconspicuously, tuning into the quiet conversation of two men behind her. They were up to something.

  “Come on…now!” whispered one to the other.

  Immediately both men broke out into a sprint, pushing through the State Police to their left and sprinting through the field away from them. The Officers tried to grab them, tussling for a second before they broke free, then pulled their shock guns and fired a few rounds, hitting one and missing the other.

  “CEASE FIRE!” yelled the Lead Officer from the front, causing them to drop their
weapons. One of the men convulsed on the ground while the other kept running. After about twenty seconds or so, the man stopped shaking and began to pick himself up, limping and grabbing the point on the back of his thigh where the copper round had struck him.

  The group stared in awe and confusion as he hobbled away without being pursued, then two more ran to the right side, ready to push through the Officers, but they stepped aside, letting them go.

  “Anyone else wanna go?” yelled the Lead Officer, spitting onto the ground in front of him.

  Cynthia flinched, ready to run as far away as possible. Everything in her gut told her to do it. She hated this place. Hated what life had become for her. She took a step, prompting another person in front of her to run. She looked down at Manny and lifted her eyebrows in readiness, but immediately read the timid look on his face. They were scared, and they had been from the beginning. They wouldn’t know where to go, or what to do. Truthfully, neither would she. She thought about her missed period, and then about the rest of the boys still with Natalie. She couldn’t leave them, not in a million years. And that was that.

  “Well,” said the Lead Officer, sniffing and spitting onto the ground again, “that’s settled.”

  The large group continued toward the Medical Building, heads hung low. The truth is, they were afraid. Most had developed a dependency, and although none would admit, deep down they knew that they were unable to survive in a world where no one delivered their food, or filled a prescription for their illness, or provided an abundance of amenities. But above all, there was one important underlying compulsion; the need for safety. It made them cower inside, in constant fear of what was going on outside of the gates. They had heard the stories. Soldiers go into the fog, they don’t come out, and the fog is moving north. The only constant was knowing that within those gates, you had food, shelter, and most important, safety. The irony, Cynthia pondered, was everyone’s blindness to their true reality. There were no amenities here, and during her time at the facility, Cynthia had felt less safe than anywhere else in her life.

 

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