all god's orphans

The grey man stood in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by others just as stunned as he was. Only a few minutes had elapsed since the man had announced “martial law”, but already the crowd was growing uneasy. From where he stood, he could see that people were being prevented from leaving the parking lot. The large trucks had formed a fourth wall, but there were still gaps through which they could pass if men in green uniforms would let them. However, these men stood silently, shoulder to shoulder and would not allow anyone through.

Other men in similar outfits scrambled about unloading various things from the trucks and bringing them out into the parking lot. He could see tables being set up to one side along the front of the shops. Eventually the man with the explosive voice stood atop one of the trucks and began to speak once more.

“Pursuant to executive order one, four, one, eight, zero; Posse comitatus is hereby suspended. Habeas corpus is likewise suspended. As is the fourth and third amendments to the bill of rights. All civilians are required to submit to biometric identity scanners. All military aged males are now eligible for conscription into the U.S. military. All civilians are to submit to selective service examinations to determine suitability for service. All children below the age of sixteen years and all women regardless of age are hereby exempt from combat conscription. All women above the age of sixteen years, however, must also submit to selective service examination for civil support roles. You will now fall out and proceed to the men at the tables on either side of you. After examination, you will be allowed to return to your homes and gather necessary belongings. You will then await further instructions.”

The grey man could see that he wasn’t the only person who had not understood most of what had been said. The people in the crowd glanced sheepishly at one another, afraid that they were the only ones for whom that speech had made no sense. Confusion paralyzed them and nobody dared move. At once, he could hear orders being barked at the peripherals of the throng, directing people to the tables behind which sat men in identical green clothes.

Time passed slowly as they stood waiting their turn while others clad in that identical green uniform began to clear out the center of the parking lot. Before long, a makeshift camp of large, green tents had been erected and men were shaping the masses of people into strict lines at the head of which were the tables. The grey man stood patiently, waiting to see what would happen next. After what seemed like hours, he heard a strange noise crack the air above the parking lot.

“Is this thing on?” He heard a voice that buzzed from every corner of the shopping center. The sound of it was impossibly loud, but the voice itself was calm, and even friendly. He didn’t understand how it had so completely filled the space. “Can you hear me?” Asked the voice again and he became aware of solitary figure standing atop one of the tractor-trailers. All eyes turned to him as every movement came to a halt. The men in green stopped their work and paid strict attention to the man on the truck. “Good afternoon, everyone.” Said the man cordially.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, SIR!” Came the reply like an earthquake as every soldier replied in unison. The fury of the sound made Grey jump in his skin.

“For those of you who don’t know, my name is General Joseph Atwood.” The man on the truck began. “But you can call me General Joe. They guys who have been here a little longer can tell you that I ask for two things from my men: Order and the occasional bottle of Mountain Dew.” The grey man had no idea what that was, but the mention of it brought a ripple of laughter through the crowd. “I know that plenty of you are scared right now and you want answers. I sympathize with your plight, but unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss such matters. What I can tell you is that I am here to help. As time goes on, you might begin to wonder if that’s true, but I assure you, it is.” Here the general changed his tone from the bombastic introductory style to something more avuncular. “We are facing an unprecedented crisis in this country right now. Things are happening that we can scarcely understand, but that only means that we need to stick together and fight even harder than before. We will re-build this country, one town at a time and I will be here to help you. My methods may seem brutal to some, but know this; I take no pleasure in doing what must be done. We cannot afford to do things as we have done them. That time is over. A new era is dawning and we must remain vigilant. Rest assured, we will do whatever we must to save this country. Sacrifices must be made. And we are ready. Isn’t that right?”

“YES, SIR!” Another ground shaking reply.

“I know you are. Stay sharp. Keep on your toes. God bless you, and god bless the United States of America!” With that, he stepped down from the trailer while a great cheer rose from the assembled soldiers. The gathered civilians followed suit, simply aping the actions of the soldiers, clapping their hands and smiling. This seemed to please the men in green. Soon, everyone was back to what they were doing before the general spoke and time once again slowed down.

The grey man watched as the people ahead of him approached the tables, had a short conversation with the men behind the table and then left. Some walked away free, while others were led away to one of the larger shops, as though the ones in green had something to show them. There was nothing overtly sinister about the whole thing, but the man began to worry as his turn came nearer that he would not be allowed to go home. All he wanted to do was go back to his house and shut the door. As they stood, every once in a while, something would ‘pop’ somewhere in the distance. Sometimes there were two or three in rapid succession. Other times it was just a solitary, disconcerting note.

“Next!” called the man behind the table and he dutifully approached. “Name?” the soldier demanded. The grey man was silent. Confused. The soldier looked up from his ledger. “Do you know your name?” he asked pointedly. The grey man shook his head.

“No.” He admitted. “I don’t know anything. I just woke up…” The man waved his hand.

“Yeah. Yeah. We know.” The soldier looked him up and down. “Grey hair. Grey pants. Your name is Grey. Understand?” He nodded. “Place your thumb here.” He was presented with a small, black rectangle with an outline of where his thumb should go. Confused, he dutifully placed his thumb in the circle and waited to see what would happen. After a few seconds, the machine beeped and then the man held up the device. “Stand still.” He said. “Look straight ahead.” There was a small sound and the man then wrote something down in his book. He handed him a small piece of paper with those symbols on it. “This is your ID number. Don’t lose it. Go home. Gather up your valuables and wait. Understand?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Good. Next!” He shouted and with that, the grey man was free to leave. He looked down once again at the paper. What had the soldier said his name was? Grey. It felt good to have a name again, even one he didn’t understand. It was a small thing, like a pin in a wall, but one he could hang the tapestry of his personality on. A small center around which he could gather himself and give his being a name. Grey. He liked it.

Grey suppressed the urge to run and instead walked away from the table and headed across the parking lot where more large, tents were blooming. Some were green, others the color of sand. Women had suddenly arrived, but unlike the men, they were not all dressed in green. Most of them wore long dresses and they moved about with easy efficiency, as though they had done this all before. He noticed that very few of them smiled or even looked him in the eye. Following suit, he kept his eyes down and made a beeline for the street hoping he could remember the way home. All he wanted to do was get back inside, shut the door, and never leave again.