G. Wright - Broken Things

He hadn’t been asleep when James had left the workshop, or not too deeply at least. He’d been thinking, mostly. If he needed kid parts, why not get them from old broken ones that didn’t need them anymore? If he could find Kid Cemetery, he could get the part himself, and take it back to Cody. If Cody wouldn’t upgrade him (thanks to Neil) he’d find someone that could. He’d heard the door shut, and realized that he had a single opportunity to leave.

Josh’s parents had rarely let him use their computer tablet, but he still knew how to look things up on it. He’d snagged James’ tablet and used the voice recognition to find Kid Cemetery, or officially, the Kidsmith Hazardous Waste Disposal Repository. Only the official website and the maps app called it that. Even online, people referred to it by its other moniker, or Kid Pit.

Sitting around waiting for the monster had to be the worst plan ever. James didn’t know what he was messing with. Even now, moving across the desert he felt as though it was right on his heels. James claimed it was an adult android. Why would anyone make it a monster though? Did they hate kids so much that they needed to make one to hunt them?

The monster was probably designed to hunt down abandoned kids. Hopefully once he got home it would leave him alone. If not, his dad would know what to do.

Soon a glow beckoned from just beyond the next rise. As he got closer, he no longer needed the tablet’s light to guide his way. He crested the hill, finding a chain link fence blocking his route, stretching out beyond sight in both directions. Atop the fence, security lights illuminated the perimeter.

Josh slipped his fingers through the fence and stared beyond. Featureless gray buildings stood as inert sentinels, watching over their eternally sleeping charges. A road separated the fence from the buildings, rough tire tracks in its dirt surface a testimony of life, but he saw no other signs. He didn’t see guards or security of any type, but cameras hung from the corners of the buildings, like silent guardian eyes.

He couldn’t see any broken children lying around. The facility surrounded what looked like dozens of small hills that rose even above the buildings. They were shadowy silhouettes beyond the brilliance of the security lights. Maybe that meant that they buried all of the broken parts. That made sense, for a cemetery.

Tentatively he climbed the fence. At the top, three lines of barbed wire were strung to prevent people from getting in. He kept his head low and kept tight to the metal bar that comprised the top of the fence, and his small frame passed easily beneath it, without even snagging. This place didn’t worry about kids getting in.

Or out.

Within a few feet of the ground, he dropped down easily. He looked behind him, but the darkness was absolute, as thick as a wall. If anything were out there, he would never see it. He glanced up at the security cameras, but they watched impotently. No one came to challenge him. He walked cautiously across the dirt road and into the shadows between the buildings. Every step he took crunched in the gravel, but he supposed no one here expected to see a kid walking about.

All of the windows were dark. He walked up to the nearest door and tried the handle, and found it locked. He walked further into the landfill wondering what he would find. Did they store the children in a crypt, like a mausoleum? Maybe they were buried, each placed reverently within the earth. He walked cautiously. He didn’t want to step on any graves. If his future had gone differently, he might’ve joined them yesterday. Only luck had saved him from this fate.

Josh reached the hills, still looking down, mindful of each step. He walked deeper still, yet he found no graves. Graves would be bad anyway, he didn’t have a shovel. There weren’t broken parts or children lying about either. Maybe he needed to go back and try more of the doors. Soon the hills blocked out the lights at his back. He hesitated, unsure of his next step. Turning the tablet back on, he used the screen as a flashlight. Gaping before him stretched a gigantic trench, almost the size of a small canyon. He couldn’t make out how far it stretched, or how wide. Kid Pit.

A few more steps and he would’ve fallen in. The drop wasn’t too bad, maybe ten feet, but still more than he wanted to fall. He leaned down, trying to use the light to see the bottom. Everywhere he looked lay dark shapes. Bodies , he realized suddenly, that’s why they call it Kid Pit .

He shivered. He stood upon a precipice overlooking the dead. It hadn’t truly sunk in as to what he would find. He’d hoped it would be parts, but not contained still within the fragile shells of the children. How many of them could there be?

“Hello?”

Josh nearly jumped out of his skin. The voice had come from his left and he turned so fast he nearly lost his balance. The thought of falling into the pit with the other children made his heart skip a beat. He flashed the tablet’s light about, but there were only the hills.

And the hills were arms and legs and heads and bodies… stacks and stacks of children. Blissfully ignorant, he’d been walking among them all along. He staggered and his foot slipped. He reached out and fell against the hill of children behind him. He pushed himself away, desperately trying not to continue to touch their still, lifeless bodies. Their skin was cool and soft to the touch, as though they only slept.

He scanned wildly about, trying to see who (what) had spoken. There were so many discarded children, so many broken and thrown away. How many? His mind couldn’t fathom the numbers he saw. How many mountains of children?

There were all ages, boys and girls, from broken infants to broken pre-teens, his age. They were all his brothers and sisters, products of Kidsmith, novelties, mockeries of life, all extinguished.

“ Help me ,” said the voice again. It was weak and distant, as though it struggled to say the words. It was androgynous, it could’ve been anyone. Josh sat still, afraid to answer the ghost of the piles, the disembodied voice of thousands upon thousands of children. The silence stretched as though they waited for his answer. The wind picked up, whistling through the artificial valley, as though the android landscape breathed out one last melancholy sigh.

Maybe they’d made a mistake. Maybe someone had thrown away a kid that wasn’t broken! He steeled himself to face his fears. On trembling knees, he half crawled toward where the voice had come from, trying to hold up the tablet’s light, yet unable to get to his feet. His legs couldn’t support him. He couldn’t imagine what would go through one’s mind, discarded here, no one to help you out, nobody even around to hear your call.

“Where are you?” His own voice came out high-pitched and laced with fright. He couldn’t fake being brave, but neither could he run away when there could be another child trapped here.

“ Here ,” came the voice, “ Help …”

“Okay.” Please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost… He reached the mound, but there were so many empty eyes, so many still limbs. He shone the light up and down through the bodies, but none of them responded. “I can’t find you.”

He waited but the voice didn’t answer again. He forced himself to look closer. There was a sadness to each child, their expressions reflected what he felt in his heart. Some had the back of their heads opened, robbed for parts. Others had signs of mistreatment, bruises and scars. Still others looked healthy, as if they were here by choice, to rest in the arms of their brothers and sisters. None of them rotted. None of them looked malnourished. Other than the abuse they’d suffered, they looked perfect, frozen forever in time.