[ussgeorgetown] Perchance to dream...
- From: Debra Mosqueda <captainjonathanhale@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: ussgeorgetown@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 2005 00:51:07 -0700 (PDT)
The lights went out, leaving the child there in the little blue bed with the
glow in the dark stars and model ships overhead to dream of space and all her
wonder?.
And then suddenly it all changed?.
Josh?s heart rate increasing slightly as the panic registered, his subconscious
mind even in this exhausted state recognizing and remembering that which his
conscious mind suppressed?
Gone were the room, the bed, the stars and ships and sense of security?
He felt it as the child was pushed into the tight base of the statue of Marcus
Turner, the founder of the colony, along with a bottle of water for himself and
a baby bottle for his sibling. His baby brother was shoved into his arms and
the words that haunted him even when wide-awake were spoken for the first and
last time. ?Stay here?don?t come out, no matter what you see or hear, okay? Be
invisible?do you understand? Protect him?stay safe?let no-one see close?
please?be invisible??
His breathing changed, became more shallow then?the fear increasing tenfold?
An almost overwhelming fear seemed to overtake him as he felt the early morning
sunshine upon his face, shining in through the small opening on the other side
of the statues base, the all too vivid brightness of the world leaving nothing
unseen?except that one little curly-haired boy the baby he held in his arms?
She left again, with the man who called him not by name, but referred to him
instead as ?the boy? in tow, promising to come return quickly.
But she didn?t come back.
His hands fluttered uselessly at his sides, as though seeking a way to change
that which had already long-since occurred?his panic was almost tangible now?
They went into the glass-looking building across from the statue. The one with
the high arched ceiling and see through walls. He watched them try the com at
the main desk as the streets filled with smoke and the smell of burning flesh
filled the air. He watched as the men in the suits with the incinerators
entered the building after them. He watched them beg for their lives, and
then?.
He watched as the men with the incinerators turned them both into one fused
pile of smoldering ash?
Screaming could be heard from every direction, though no individual scream
lasted for more than a moment. It was like a chorus where one voice continually
picked up where the last left off, and after a time the tiny, curly haired boy
came to see it that way. A terrible symphony to accompany the destruction as it
took place before his young eyes, nothing more. He watched as all, from the
very young to the very old were slaughtered there before him, burned alive
until only a pile of ash remained where a living being once had been before the
statue in the center of town.
His sleeping form seemed overtaken then with an eerily unnatural, almost
haunting sort of calm?as if all emotion of any kind had simply drained away?
He waited until the music died down, until the acrid smell of smoke was
gone?how long? A day? Two perhaps? He didn?t know. It didn?t matter anymore.
What mattered was keeping the baby alive?that, and remaining invisible. He
ventured out into the darkness, careful to remain out of sight. The baby needed
water and food and he was supposed to provide them?to protect him.
That was his job. His purpose, the reason he was still here.
He knew this without question, though he was no longer certain how he knew. It
was simply so. He stayed to the darkest parts of his now-desolate world,
avoiding the armed creatures (men? Surely not?.monsters, his young mind
decided, disguised to look like men in gold and red and even blue shirts with
all too familiar insignias on them?) that continued to hunt down and destroy
any stragglers that remained...
He found places to hide where only one as slender and small as he was, even
with the baby, could hide, and the more slender he became as the days merged
one into another, the easier the hiding became, as well. Sometimes he would
find a place where food and water was easily obtained, but those were rare, as
the monsters had taken much for themselves and destroyed the rest. Other times
he?d scrounge around, fighting with the other scavengers on the streets for a
bit here or there to sustain them both.
The baby fussed rarely, seeming to understand the almost frighteningly calm
imperatives of his young mind. ?Shh?? he would whisper on the rare occasions he
found a need to speak at all anymore. ?It?s okay, Zachary?.it?s okay?? nothing
further needed to be said?nothing else mattered, save keeping him alive, safe
and secure.
That was his job. His purpose, the reason he was still here.
He had no other reason left. Not when dying would have been so much easier?
And then it changed again?
The panic seemed to rise again, his breathing coming in ragged gasps, as though
he were suddenly strangling on the air itself?
Choking, the burning within his throat and lungs ever present as he stepped
over the bodies of fallen children, many younger than himself?
He shifted, as though drawing back from unseen hands, the terror etched in
every muscle as they tightened, clenching as though preparing to fight?or flee?
Then came burning smell human skin?.the screaming was his own?,
the blood was warm and sticky as it ran down his back, his sides, his legs?.
He would die here, he knew?a welcomed release?
But not yet.
He couldn?t die yet. Not when his brother still lived, still needed to be
watched and protected, as he protected him now. For him alone he fought and
screamed and bled and bore whatever the keepers did?
whatever they would do?
And still it changed?
He began to shake uncontrollably, his breathing coming now in harsh and painful
gasps?
So cold?so tired?no end in sight?
No longer a reason to fight?
He couldn?t win.
and yet what choice did he have?
Zachary needed him?even now?didn?t he?
day and night blurred and merged until once again they were wholly
unrecognizable one from the other?
Cycling from one never-ending ?discussion? with Hilliard and his ?doctor?
friend to another with barely a breath between?
Just seeing what makes him tick?how far could they go?how much could he stand?
Was he really human at all?
Of course not. Wasn?t that the point of it all?
What if we tried this next?
The white-hot pain tore through him, his whole body seemingly set afire from
within
The ?doctor? set the regenerator to heal just enough to keep him conscious,
then?
Josh jolted awake from the nightmare dreams, bolting upright to the fading
sound of screams and scent of burning flesh, then gasped, what slight color
he'd gained draining quickly as the pain brought on by the violence of the
movement tore through his hip, leg and chest. He laid back gingerly on the
bedroll again, trying desperately to draw even a shallow breath, blinking away
the tears that threatened. After what seemed an eternity, he coughed weakly,
rolling to his uninjured side as his lungs again found air at last.
Of all the things that I have lost
I think I miss my mind the most...
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