The Fate of Nations Book II The Harvest (25 page)

Loss of appetite, lethargy, vomiting and diarrhea were all common symptoms of acute mountain sickness, and there sure was a lot of that going on up here.

Everywhere there was some kind of body fluid spewed, splattered, pooled and drying. “The ship isn't being pressurized correctly for us,” Ralph went on to say.

He saw the devastating effects it was having on a lot of people in the ship, they were heaving painfully, their noses spouting blood, their limbs trembling weakly as they waited for the next spasm to come. “It will gradually get better,” Ralph said, unless it gets worse, like it did for some of them.” He gestured to the covered remains of the people scattered throughout the large cargo bay. “As our bodies become adjusted to the altitude, the symptoms should disappear, but we can't stay at this altitude indefinitely, we'll all die.”

Laura listened attentively as Ralph spoke, her eyes fastened on his pale blue eyes. In their past lives, on Earth, Laura wouldn't have had the nerve to talk to someone as handsome as Ralph. He was clearly out of her league, a professional man, he had mentioned that he was a Veterinarian, and he looked like a natural athlete. His presence literally shouted confidence, self assurance, a good upbringing. Ralph wouldn't have given her the time of day, she thought, not her, the night clerk at the local convenience store, no education past high school and up to her neck in bills and bad debts left over from a couple of failed marriages.

Up here, however, all of the constraints of Earth's society were quickly vanishing into the maelstrom of human suffering. The former ideas becoming ludicrous in the wake of the new existence they all shared.

The common bond appeared to be growing all over the ship as people turned to each other, the most unlikely of couples and groups forming. They sat and talked, some probably for the first time ever, to their shackled neighbors. Religions, race, status, looks, and social standings were no longer a priority. They comforted each other, speaking soft words of reassurance as they watched their common

enemies,whose weapons were at the ready, walk back and forth along the platform high above them.
What a
fucking shame,
Laura thought sadly,
that it took
something like this to erase the barriers between us.

What a damned, fucking shame.

During the first week on board, as Ralph and Laura became acquainted with the unwelcome presence of altitude sickness, a small group of black women, who seemed strangely immune to the effects of the altitude, decided to lift the spirits of their fellow captives by putting together an impromptu chorus.

They sang about half of an old Gospel song, their beautiful, rich, full voices soaring into the thick gray air of the space. The acoustics in the ship were perfect.

Every note resonated in what could only be described as angelic.

In less than a minute, the Grays had lowered their platform and ten of them descended on the small group of women. They brandished their barbed tails wildly, viciously snarling and screeching as they sank the barbed ends directly into the women's lips. The petrified women let out blood curdling screams that resonated dreadfully in the perfect acoustics.

Their mouths swelled shut and then out, making them look as though they were clenching flesh colored grapefruit between their teeth. They moaned in pain, their eyes rolling back in their heads, their eyelids fluttering. “I guess the Grays don't like Gospel,” Ralph whispered, sarcastically.

“I'd like to jam one of those barbed tails right up that fucking Gray's asshole and see what happens,”

Ralph said angrily, helpless frustration mounting as he watched not one, but two of the singing trio of women choke to death on their own vomit.

Their mouths were so swollen there was no

escape for the frothing mess purging upwards from their stomachs. It shot out of their noses in thin ropy streams, but not all of it could escape using this route and the remainder settled back into their windpipes, strangling them as they lost consciousness.

The third woman passed out before she could puke, and Ralph watched her closely but she seemed to be blissfully unaware of her surroundings now, the swelling was already beginning to rapidly disappear from her mouth.

“I don't think they have assholes,” Laura said, and they both burst into absurd laughter. The group sitting across from them looked at them like they had gone insane, as the laughter erupted.

“What is it about the word asshole, that makes people laugh, I wonder?” Ralph asked when the laughter had subsided. He didn't know why he had laughed, there definitely wasn't anything funny about the situation they were all in. He knew where they were being taken and what was going to happen to all of them.

It must have been tension making him laugh, he thought, he always did that when he got stressed out.

Making wise cracks always helped him to ease the tension, to relax. “Well they look like big walking assholes,” Laura said, “If that helps any.” and they burst out laughing again, garnering more shocked, disbelieving looks from the crowd across from them.

The Guardians walked slowly back and forth on the overhead platform, as their cold eyes scanned the crowds.

Rufus

Rufus sat alone in his cage, his cell. He was scheduled to be shipped out tomorrow. He knew that.

The Clearview Animal Research Lab had purchased him from the Animal Shelter he had been living in for the past two months. He understood that he would rather be put into that gas chamber the humans had in the building, where so many of his friends had gone. A research lab would hurt him everyday with needles and cuts and smoke and poisons injected into him.

Rufus prayed, like they all did, that someone would help him, that someone would come to get him, but he knew that no one was coming to help him. He lay there on his little blanket and stared at the room with large mournful eyes.

Rufus was a Basset Hound, born into a family of eight in an apartment in the City. He loved his Mama, and his siblings. He loved the little stuffed worm that his human had given to him to play with and chew on.

He missed his humans. They had gone away and left him, his Mama and his siblings here, at the shelter because they couldn't afford to care for so many animals, they said.

The shelter was clean, he had enough food and water, but he was so cold. He stayed on his blanket to keep warm, but it helped him very little. He was cold inside. Abandoned and desolate. He stared at the orange tag that was clipped to his cage. It was his ticket to hell.

Rufus wasn't his name. The humans called him that, and he wagged his tail obediently for them, because they didn't know any better and even though he had tried to tell them, they didn't listen. All they heard was woof, woof, yap, yap, woof. He tried to tell them his name was Josh. His Mama had named him that. That was his name. Josh. He missed his Mama. She always made sure he was warm and clean and fed. His Mama had been the first to go into that gas chamber. He heard her mournful cries before she went to sleep forever.

Josh had whined and whimpered and then he closed his eyes, just as she had, but for him no peace came. He had to continue on to his own fate, the research lab. He stared at the orange tag affixed to his cage. His ticket to hell.

Ralph

Ralph had spent the day at his office. There were only a few animals there, the boarding kennel never did a lot of business at this time of the year anyway, and he thanked God there weren't more animals in the kennel to worry about today. He busied himself with the daily chores, emptying out the dog food bag with shaking hands for the three small dogs there. His staff hadn't shown up for work today.
This is really happening
, Ralph thought,
I can't believe this shit is really
happening!

Just two days ago, the ships had appeared out of thin air ...bam!...they were just there. Yesterday, the people started disappearing into the ships. Ralph had watched from his office window as a crowd of fifty or so who were gazing up at the ships in wonder, just lifted up into the air where they were collected by a small ship, then transported to the large ship that was hovering over the City of Norfolk.

The ship was so massive that it blocked out the sun, leaving the surface underneath it lit by the automatic street lights as their circuits confusedly mistook the darkness for night. Ralph had spent the night in his office, terrified to walk outside after seeing what was happening out there. He was just fine where he was, you betcha.

Ralph couldn't believe that people were still going out there! They stood in groups on the corner and in the parking lot of the strip mall next door and gawked at the strangely crafted ships, even when they saw other people being lifted up in the air, they stood there, mesmerized by the complete craziness of the sight.

RUN YOU IDIOTS!!!
Ralph silently screamed at them from behind the window where he watched in disbelief.

He watched helplessly as the groups were quickly pulled, one after the other, up from the ground, their mouths a shocked O of surprise as they rose up, up, up.

Ralph noticed that there was one guy, though, who seemed to be making out alright. He stood alone and watched the day's happenings with a stupefied expression on his small round face.

The hovering ships didn't seem to notice him standing there against the building opposite Ralph's, his hand shielding his eyes against the sun's gleam off of the metallic craft. He stood that way for an hour or so, as Ralph sat in his office and watched. A small group of people walked by him and instantly, a craft appeared above them. Before Ralph could blink his eyes, they were all lifted up into the air.

Now, that's weird
, Ralph thought.
Why didn't they
get him before, when he was standing there by himself?

Was it that they just didn't see
him?
Ralph began watching the streets for any other loners out there. Sure enough, there were a few people who stood alone, or in couples. The ships were busily whizzing back and forth in the sky, completely ignoring them.
So
, Ralph thought,
they're picking off the crowds first
. He might be able to make it out of there after all.
Where the hell
am I gonna go?
Was his next thought, as he sat, his mind reeling, and watched the streets empty out.

The streets had been eerily quiet when Ralph woke up this morning. He'd spent a lot of nights on his office couch, too tired from the day's endless appointments and last minute emergencies to make the half hour trek through the hellish traffic on I-64 East to his small house. He might as well just live there, he had thought, on more than one occasion. There wasn't anyone at home waiting for him anymore, anyway. He hadn't seen Leslie for months.

His life now revolved around his Practice, he didn't have time for a date, not that he wanted to date again just yet. He sure didn't have time for a wife, or kids, or even a pet of his own. He was too busy caring for everyone elses' pets. Not that he complained much, though, this was Ralph's dream come true. This was all that he had wanted to do since he could remember. He would think about settling down later, he always told himself.
Later
.

He poured fresh water into a large plastic tub he had found in the operating room for the small dogs, whose owner had left in his care for two weeks while they traveled to California for a much needed, they joked, vacation. From what Ralph saw on the 6o'clock News, two nights ago, just before the power went out, California was being picked clean.

“I guess it's just us, guys,” Ralph said quietly to the dogs. They wagged their tails and pawed at his legs playfully, happy to be out of their crates. Ralph placed the tub of water on the floor next to their food and patted their small heads.

He straightened his back, grimacing from the usual back pains from sleeping on the old misshapen couch in his office, and looked outside.
All quiet
, he thought,
well, if I'm going to do this, I'd better get it
over with, before I lose my nerve.
He propped the door to the building open with a chair, making sure that it couldn't be knocked loose, and walked outside.

What the hell am I doing?!
He thought as he ran out into the parking lot to his old Subaru.
This is nuts!

He swore under his breath as he flung the car's door open and lunged inside. He jammed the key into the ignition and turned it.
Click...
”Fuck!” he shouted.

“Come on baby, come on!!! START!!” He tried it again.
Click.
. “Shit, FUCK..!!”

He screamed, pounding the steering wheel

angrily, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. His breath tore in and out of his lungs in long ragged splinters. Ralph had never been so scared in his life. He tried to reign in his mounting terror, but each second he sat there exposed, his heart thumped louder, his breathing became faster.
Calm down
, he told himself,
calm the fuck down Ralph, or you won't make it, calm
down, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!
He looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror. He was looking at terror incarnate.

His eyes were wide, his face pale and sweaty, beads of perspiration collecting on his light brown eyebrows, hectic patches appearing high on his cheeks.

Ralph looked himself in the eyes and raised his hand.

WHAP, he slapped himself hard across the face. The pain brought things back into focus. “Hang in there champ” he told his reflection. “You aren't going to end up like them, you're going to make it.”

Ralph stepped out of the dead Subaru,
I should
have known,
he thought,
of course the frigging battery
is dead.
The ones in the office were all dead too, made sense. Those ships must have sucked them all dry.