G. Wright - Broken Things

He didn’t recognize the vehicle. It wasn’t one of Kidsmith’s. He’d deal with them afterward. He had his employee badge in his wallet, if they questioned what he was doing here. He wished that he’d gotten around to making a smaller EMP generator, the bulky thing made his hunt awkward, and it would be useless for five minutes. He was half-tempted to fry the kid’s brain when he got the chance. Maybe I shot the wrong one.

Cody drove an old clunker. The thing rattled and banged with every bump they hit, and occasionally blew out a thick cloud of white smoke. Neil sat next to him in the passenger seat holding the tablet, navigating them after Josh. Once he realized where they were going though, he no longer listened to Neil’s instructions. He used to come here a lot, for parts and such, before he’d lost his job. Now he sent Neil to slip in and steal things.

Things were tight for Kidsmith. They could barely operate this place, except that the State required them to keep it open, for all of the children that were shipped back. Ten years ago the government had required Kidsmith to open the place, to keep the children out of the public landfills. Some still ended up there, but Kidsmith Reclamation got most of them.

The gates were open. A company truck sat in the middle of the road, headlights on and both doors open, and Cody watched as a man sort of ran into the bodies. He squinted, trying to see what the man chased, and if not for Neil he would have hit the body lying in the path.

“Watch out,” the boy said, “Someone’s in the road!”

He stopped just in time. It might’ve only been a kid, sometimes they were dumped in the road. A backhoe would come along and push them into the piles. The hills seemed quite a bit taller than he remembered them. He briefly considered driving over the body, but he had stopped already. He threw it into park and stepped out.

The body was taller than a child. It was a woman.

It was Angel.

“What the Hell?” He dropped down next to her, searching for injuries. Her eyes stared at him unblinking.

“Is that…” Neil didn’t finish, he knew the answer. “Is she dead?”

Cody shook his head. “No… Maybe… I don’t know. There’s a pulse, but that’s it. It’s like she’s been shut off.”

“Can you turn her back on?”

“Not here.” He gently slipped his arms under her and lifted her dead weight. “Get the back door, Neil.”

They slipped her into the backseat as gently as possible. He paused, staring at her. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was, why she was his favorite. It wasn’t just her looks, but the way she laughed at his jokes, the way she chided his sloppiness without judging. He’d never cared that her bones were titanium, that she had a computer for a brain. Real women had never been too fond of him. But he’d screwed up. He’d become complacent.

“I’m so sorry, Angel,” he said. With a deep breath he turned to Neil. “Someone’s going to pay. Let’s find Josh and get some answers.”

It stood in the shadows of the building, watching. It had followed the boy’s emotions, had almost caught up to him at the last house, but he’d ran again before it could reach him. This child was different from all of the others, not just in its form of existence, but in fate. Everywhere the child ran, trouble seemed to follow. This child felt like… destiny.

The heavy-set man and his boy companion ran into the bodies, leaving the woman in the back of their car. Once it was certain there would be no other intruders, it made its way after the boy, following the fear. It passed through the radius of light, unafraid of being seen, until it came to the nearest mound.

Now these children, they were confusing. It placed a weathered, worn, and blood-stained hand on the forehead of a little girl. They weren’t real, therefore it had no interest. But they were just like the boy, all artificial.

The girl stirred against its hand. Yes, life still tenaciously continued here, repeated from body to body of all the children pressed together. These people, the corporations, they didn’t realize what they had achieved. It hadn’t sensed it at first, only in the boy. They’d created life and put it in the tiny frames of children. Innocent, eternal children. Humans… they longed for what they’d lost, but were blinded by their hubris.

The weak echo of life extended from her throughout all the children. Were any of them truly dead? No… or maybe once. Now they’d become something more. They gave each other life here, where they had nothing else left. It could feel it, a pulse to the faux landscape, inside and beneath the surface. Mostly they slept. If it listened carefully, it could hear them collectively breath.

They seemed to be waiting for something. Salvation, perhaps?

It had to return to the hunt. It could ponder the afterlife later.

The girl’s hand snagged its shirt. It pulled gently free, but the girl’s eyes held it in place where her tiny hands could not.

“Are you the devil?” she asked.

“No,” it responded. The sound of its own voice shocked it. It hadn’t uttered a real word since returning. It sounded dry and full of rocks. It could only imagine its appearance. It had avoided reflections, only making a rudimentary effort to hide its withered and broken body. It could only imagine the nightmare it must resemble.

“Oh,” she sighed, “I thought he’d finally come, but he’s forgotten us too, I think.”

It fought to form the words. They came out with difficulty, but it managed to say, “Why do you wait for him?”

“Because I wasn’t good enough.”

It held her eyes a few seconds longer and turned away.

Josh ran. He could hear them, they whispered, as though talking amongst themselves. He couldn’t make out their words though. It all blended into an indistinguishable hum. Before long he’d reached the pit again. The sky had begun to lighten now, becoming a dark blue, and he could begin to make out the shapes of the broken children. He could make out the other side, maybe the distance of half a football field. Though it would take too long to go around, he thought he could make it across. The bodies should support him. He was light enough, and hopefully it would be more difficult for James.

He sat down, dangling his feet over the edge. The sheer drop looked steep. From behind him he heard the man approaching rapidly.

“I see you, there’s nowhere to run,” James said. Josh could just barely make him out in the emerging dawn. “You don’t have to do this the hard way.”

Maybe he didn’t have to drop, if he stuck close enough to the side he could slide down. He leaned his body out over the edge, balancing only on his hands.

He let go.

The ten feet went by quickly, and when his feet hit the bodies his legs buckled and he fell to his hands and knees. The bodies shifted somewhat, but held. He rose slowly, fighting for balance. As long as he stepped directly in the center of each child on the top, he thought he could make it. He took his first step as James reached the edge.

“Damn it, kid,” he cursed, “Give me your hand. I’ll lift you out.”

Josh took another step forward. He suddenly realized that the word ‘kid’ had lost its original meaning. It objectified him. It no longer implied a young human, but something less than human. It sounded derogatory coming out of James’ mouth.

He looked back to see James aiming his odd looking gun at him. He tried to walk faster, but his foot caught in a t-shirt nearly tripping him. He tried not to step on their faces. The light crested the mountains, spilling over the mounds and giving him a better view of each step.