Humankind_Saga 1

by Mic Shannon

  “And?!”

  “He reported dismembered bodies as they approached the coordinates. He said the SEAL team entered the gas pocket and then went crazy, firing wildly at something. But whatever it is, he couldn’t see it.”

  The General hung his head in frustration.

  “And what, that’s it?!” she asked, vexed with their inability to gain any solid information. The room was silent.

  She sat back in her chair and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling in contemplation. Running her hand from her face to her chin, she sat forward and crossed her arms on the desk.

  “Where are the SEALs now?” she asked.

  “That was last contact, ma’am,” he replied, “our best guess is about ten miles south of the city, deep in what we are now deeming enemy territory.”

  “So, what other options are there?” she asked, burying her head in her hands and using her palms to rub her eyes, then lifting her head, “and somebody better say something brilliant!”

  “The 75th is ready to go,” said the General, referring to the Special Forces Army Ranger Battalion, “I can have five Abrams tanks, twenty-five armored personnel carriers, and ten Apache gunships moving south into Buenos Aires by morning to go get our boys out. All on standby.”

  “General, we don’t even know what we’re shooting at,” said Director Horn.

  “At the goddamned enemy!” he sassed, turning toward the president and leaning in on his elbow to talk to her frankly, “Listen ma’am, we’re looking at…best case scenario, a dangerous threat that needs an immediate response, not a diplomatic solution.”

  “But we still don’t know what that threat is!” snapped Director Horn, interjecting, “Ma’am, we send our guys into this blind, this could be the biggest mistake of the…the millennium! What we need to do is wait and gather more information. We need to figure out what this thing is! What our guys are shooting at! How to stop it!”

  “And what do you suggest we do?!” replied General Adams, starting to get frustrated at his lack of vision, “People are dead in the streets. And you wanna, what, ask them what their purpose here is?!”

  “He’s right, though,” interrupted Patricia. If we’re facing something here, we need to increase our military might. We don’t know what we’re up against, but whatever it is, the goal is to end up on top.”

  Patricia removed her glasses and wiped them with a cloth from her pocket, placing them back onto her face.

  “We still have a refugee crisis to our south. They’re literally beating down our borders. Running from something,” she continued, staring in thought, “Something dangerous. Deadly. With the twenty-foot hole in the partition at Laredo, we can’t do much to stop them.”

  “What’s the status on civilian relocation?” asked the President.

  “It’ll take weeks,” she replied, “but we’re going to have a problem with space.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not enough room,” replied Director Horn, sitting up to speak, “you move that many civilians into facilities to the north to make room for the refugees, we’ll struggle with overcrowding.”

  “Riots will happen,” said Patricia, “The people will be angry. But, I think we can mitigate that. Kill two birds with one stone.”

  She looked over at the President, who was examining the screen of each military unit’s location placed on the table in front of her.

  “What we need to do is begin Total Activation.”

  President Oliver looked up at her with tightened lips, glancing over at the General for his opinion. He nodded. Looking down in thought as she covered her mouth, she struggled with the gut-wrenching decision.

  “The American people aren’t going to like it,” she rebutted.

  “I don’t think we have a choice, ma’am.”

  --- 3:27 am ---

  Alexandria, VA, USA

  As Michael sat underneath the stars outside of the lecture hall, he thought about his mother. Her birthday was coming up in a few days, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to spend it with her. It had been almost a week at the college campus, and thoughts of things ever returning to normal had faded away. He enjoyed sneaking outside late at night. The room smelled of body odor no matter how many times they showered, and recently, fist fights were becoming more common.

  In the distance, he saw a man standing by an exit door smoking a cigarette as two National Guard personnel walking their post passed by him. This is what they had become. Like pigs, hoarded into pens for safe keeping. He looked up to the sky, wondering what his mother would do.

  Contemplating in silence, he noticed Cynthia approaching, returning from the bathroom area. She was just as beautiful as the first day he had met her, even in a pair of comfortable sweat pants and a tee shirt with her hair tied in a sloppy bun.

  “Hey,” she said, happy to see him, yet still worn out from the stress.

  “Hey,” he replied with a smile, “I thought you were sleeping.

  “No,” she said, “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Yeah me either.”

  “I didn’t know you were out here,” she said, flipping her hair and taking a seat, “otherwise I would’ve came out and sat with you.”

  He smiled at her, soaking in every moment as if it were absent of time.

  “So, like, tomorrow huh?” she said, referring to the day of the move

  In response to the overwhelming number of refugees at the southern U.S. border, the President had arranged for the American people to be moved further north into new living quarters, making room for refugees fleeing from South America. It was the righteous move, but most Americans did not share the same compassion.

  “Yeah,” he said with a deep sigh, “I just hope they have a better sleeping situation for us. This is ridiculous.”

  “If I’m with you, I’m fine,” she said, cracking a smile.

  “Girl, you better not leave me!” he threatened, outwardly pretending to joke, but internally, he was sure that he couldn’t handle losing another person close to him.

  “Never,” she replied, “Never in a million billion trillion years can anything ever remove you from my heart.”

  She batted her eyes and smiled.

  “I am so in love with you Mike,” she blurted.

  He began to smile uncontrollably. He leaned in for a kiss, but instead Cynthia grabbed his hand and stood up.

  “Come on,” she said, “follow me.”

  Michael reluctantly got up as she pulled him by the hand.

  “Where are we going?” he asked curiously.

  “Shhh!”

  They wandered around the campus, stopping to hide from the guards walking their post. She led him to a large building located on the other side of the campus. As they approached, the sign on the building became more visible in the darkness. The building read: Office of the Dean.

  Cynthia looked around before opening the door and pulling Michael inside, closing the door behind them. They both walked slowly down the hall, looking around at the student achievements plastered onto the walls. Cynthia sighed.

  “I really wish I could’ve went to college and made a difference,” she said, staring at a picture of the Class of 2034 Valedictorian.

  “I know, Bunny.”

  “Bunny?!” she said, twisting her face in confusion?”

  “Yeah, bunny,” he laughed, “that’s my new nickname for you!”

  “I don’t like it,” she said, turning up her lip at him.

  “So what,” he continued, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her hips to his as she giggled, “you don’t have to like it. It’s my nickname for you. But trust me, Bunny, everything will be okay.”

  She ignored his cheesy comforts and pushed him away, walking further down the hall until she reached the Dean’s office, Michael following boyishly behind.

  “I guess this will have to do,” she said, pulling him inside and closing the door.

  As he stood there, he could see the look on her face eagerly express
ing her mood. She approached him and put her hand on his chest, then leaned in for a kiss. When their lips connected, Michael felt a familiar charge of energy flow through him.

  He pulled away from the kiss, staring into her eyes and brushing one of her bangs behind her ear. He placed his hand behind her neck and leaned in to kiss her again. When he slid close to her body, he could feel her gripping his waist and pulling it closer. Michael lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and sat her on the edge of the Dean’s desk, pushing the paperwork onto the floor. As he ran his hands across her thigh she giggled, excited to know that she would soon be enjoying him. He kissed her neck as she began to moan in ecstasy.

  TUES, JUN 6th, 2034

  Alexandria, VA, USA

  9:01 am

  T he next morning, Tee shook Michael awake, Michael struggling to get up from the late night before. Sitting up and wiping his eyes, he saw everyone rolling up their mats and packing their clothes away.

  “Wake up, man,” said Tee, grabbing his bag, “We’re leaving in an hour.”

  Michael yawned and began to gather his things. All he wanted to do was sleep; the last thing he wanted to do was be up this early. Just then, one of the National Guard Officers came busting through the door and made an announcement.

  “Everyone, please listen up,” he began, “in a few minutes the President is going to make an announcement. I need everyone to make sure that they don’t use the bathroom, showers, or go get food until after this announcement has been made, hooah?”

  The common military jargon hooah had been something they had gotten familiar with over the last week. It seemed robot-ish, but the Captain always said it for confirmation, as if they were fresh recruits at boot camp.

  “Wonder what it is now,” said Tee, dreadfully bunching his clothes and throwing them in his bag.

  Michael looked up at Cynthia on the stairs above them, smiling as he reminisced about the night before. Even doing something as mundane as packing a bag, her mannerisms made his heart patter. She was his adoration. Only one other woman had he ever loved and cherished this much.

  The Captain pointed the remote up and un-muted the TV, the President’s face appearing on the only closed-circuit emergency channel.

  She was standing in the same concrete bunker, the place where she had given her past few speeches. If anything made them feel uncomfortable, it was that they weren’t in that bunker.

  “My fellow Americans,” she said sternly, tightening her lips, “I know this last week has been rough. For that, I am sorry.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “First reports have not been as good as we’ve expected. It seems we are facing a threat. A threat that we must confront…with military action.”

  Everyone in the room began to gasp. Michael could hear whispers all throughout the room.

  “As I know this news is disturbing,” said the President, “we have to continue with our plan to keep the people of this country safe. All citizens will be relocated to living facilities in the northern states. These facilities will be much more comfortable and accommodating. To the south, we will be opening up our borders for refugees to flee from danger zones in…now…Central and South America.”

  “Fuck those refugees!” yelled a young man from the crowd, “I’m not going anywhere!”

  A few people in the room lauded his response. As far as they were concerned, those refugees were on their own…even if that meant death. They weren’t Americans, and subsequently, not important. Cynthia hung her head, unsure of how anyone could support such a belief that left others to die horribly while they idly stand by.

  “As American people,” continued the President on the large screen at the front of the room, “we have a responsibility to preserve our way of life. And that’s we’re going to do. I applaud you all in your willingness to support our troops as they continue the good fight.”

  The President paused unusually long as she collected herself. Her stern gaze staring directly into the camera.

  “However, as this unanticipated threat has forced us to respond with force, I have been given no choice but to enact Total Activation Protocol. All males, ages seventeen to thirty-seven, must immediately submit themselves for military service.”

  The entire room exploded in banter. Tee was unwavering; he was in shock, staring at the TV. Manny, still trying to process what it all meant for him and his friends, had a look of confusion and worry. Michael immediately began to panic, hunching over and covering his face with his hand. He tried his best to hide it, but he was freaking out. His palms began to moisten, and his shoulders tightened as he started to tremor. His worst fears had come true.

  He looked up into the rows at Cynthia, sobbing as she hugged her father. Across the room women and children sobbed for their families. Husbands, fathers, and sons all stood there, holding back their emotions as they looked at the TV in disbelief.

  “Please report to your local military liaison officer for further instructions. Thank you all, and God Bless America.”

  As the TV ended the President’s bunker transmission, the sobs got worse.

  “OH LORD, GOD, PLEASE NO!” yelled a single mother as she grabbed her chest and sat down onto the floor, one hand on her heart and another on her young son’s pant leg.

  The sobs continued throughout the upset crowd for several minutes. The Captain stared at the TV, in shock himself at the news and what it meant for all those poor families. He hung his head, wiping his nose and sniffing to mask his emotions. He had a job to do. Nothing personal, just following orders.

  “I need all military aged males to grab their things and line up outside for roll call,” he commanded.

  Michael still had his face in his hands, seated on the floor and shaking trying to calm his out of control anxiety. Tee touched him on the shoulder for comfort, then they reluctantly joined the other males exiting the room to the roll call outside. It pained them to look across the faces of the many women and children staring back and weeping at the separation of their families. Small children were crying and some of the women were reaching out for their men as they walked by, hoping that by some miracle they would be able to stay. As Michael approached the front of the room, Cynthia ran down the stairs in tears, hysterically pleading for him. She ran up to him and hugged him, crying on his shoulder.

  “I love you so much. I love you so much. God, please don’t go.”

  The rest of the men continued to file outside. Cynthia wouldn’t let go.

  “Ma’am,” said the Captain, “it’s time.”

  “NO!” she screamed as he pulled her away, “PLEASE DON’T TAKE HIM. I’LL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay Cynthia,” Michael said, brushing her hair behind her ear as he put her concerns over his own, “I’ll come back for you. I promise on my life. I’ll come back.”

  As he turned to walk away, trying to remain strong, she grabbed his hand.

  “Wait, just wait!” she said. She ran over to her bag and unzipped one of the side pockets. Pulling out the corsage from the prom, she ran back over to him.

  “Take it. So you can remember me,” she said, her eyes beginning to fill up with water again.

  He looked deep into her eyes, holding back tears, “Cynthia…I could never forget you.”

  When he opened his book bag to put the corsage in, he paused for a moment. He had almost forgot what he had. Grabbing the diary from underneath his clothes, he handed her the bookbag with the $30,000 inside.

  “Promise me you’ll take care of Manny,” he said, trying not to show how weak he felt inside.

  She grabbed the bag and wiped her cheeks, looking him in his eyes.

  “I promise,” she said through sobs.

  “Come on, man,” said the Captain to Michael delicately, “it’s time to go.”

  As he walked away, Cynthia sunk down to the ground and cried. Michael looked back, only seeing a half-empty room of women and
children full of pain and sadness. Manny ran up to Cynthia and began to comfort her, rubbing her back as she wept. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better; both her father and the love of her life ripped away from her so suddenly.

  When Michael emerged outside to take roll, Tee immediately sensed his devastation. He walked up to him and began to pat him on the back. He knew Michael needed him, and he had never been the type to let his friends down.

  After roll call, they filed onto city buses that had been designated to take them to the military liaison. No one spoke a word. They all knew that soon their lives would be changed forever, just as much as they knew what they were leaving behind. The air was full of melancholy, almost reminding Michael of the Jewish prisoners at Auschwitz being marched to their death, just like the old World War II videos he used to watch in black and white as a child.

  With crying women and children watching, the buses pulled off and exited the facility; the most sobering moment being when the National Guard sentry stretched the barbed wire back into place behind them, sealing their fate as their families stood and watched, wiping away tears. As they drove out of sight of the campus, Michael put his hands over his face and put his head in his lap, a burst of tears flooding out of him. Every emotion came rushing back, from his mother’s death to his most recent forced separation from his only family, as he shook trying to muffle the sounds of sobbing. Tee, sitting next to him, put his hand on his back in a gesture of pure and empathetic support, vowing to always have Michael’s back.

  PART II

  WED, JUN 7th, 2034

  70 mi North of San José, Costa Rica

  6:48 am

  “S hh,” said James quietly, motioning with his finger over his lips as he looked at the small group of elementary school girls hiding inside of the building. Peeking around the corner, he looked both ways and scanned the rooftops. Then, he looked back at the girls.

  “Sígueme, follow me,” he ordered as he began to cross the street. The girls held onto each other’s hands and followed closely in fear. The Chief followed behind the girls, with Radio’s arm over his shoulder to assist him in walking. His leg was bandaged around the knee.