all god's orphans

As Grey left the noise and commotion of the ad hoc military base behind, he felt instantly better. Out on the streets, others who had been released straggled alongside him in various directions. He could hear them discussing possible explanations for why others had been kept behind, but no one had any better idea than he had. Every so often, they would hear another ‘pop’ ring in the distance, but there were fewer now than there had been earlier.

The afternoon sun was still pretty high but the air had cooled considerably. Grey breathed deeply in, trying to relax. Near the strip mall, businesses outnumbered houses and he could see black trucks parked outside of some of them as men in more green suits carried various things out of them and loaded them into their vehicles. Like the women who had arrived, they paid him no mind. Others were arriving all the time. As he walked, a steady stream of black SUV’s trickled by on the street in a never-ending parade. He couldn’t say exactly why all of this made him uneasy. There was nothing sinister that he could see in all of this, but the sight of so many people unnerved him.

The farther he got from the strip mall, the fewer black vehicles he saw, but there were still loads of green men about. On one street, he saw them going from house to house carrying sacks. From so far away, he had no idea what they contained, but the men moved with intensity, as though under some kind of deadline. As he approached one such house, he saw a soldier drop one of the bags near the mailbox before proceeding into the house beside it. He watched them disappear inside and waited a moment before taking a cautious step towards the bag.

It was green, like their clothing, and had writing on the side of it. Stood up on its end, it was probably half as tall as Grey and it was made of a tough fabric. The top had a flap that was secured with a metal clip, but the rough cloth of the bag fell open just a bit and he could tell that a quick tug would give him a clear view into its mysteries. Glancing up at the house, he could see no sign of the green men. Quickly he pulled aside one of the flaps and peered in.

He could tell that the bag was heavy. Inside, there were tiny trinkets that glistered in the darkness of the bag. Some of them were small, round things. Others were shaped like birds. One was a fat man sitting cross-legged.

“Hey!” Barked a voice from the house. Grey flinched and dropped the flap. One of the green men had emerged from the house and was shouting at Grey. “Step away from the bag.” Grey froze. The man raised his weapon, pointing directly between Grey’s eyes. “Are you fucking deaf? Step back!” Grey responded by taking a single, small step back. For a moment, he thought the soldier might shoot him. He tilted his head and peered through his sights at his target, but before he could fire, one of his compatriots stepped out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“No unauthorized shots.” Admonished the second man. The first slowly lowered his weapon.

“Thank your lucky fucking stars, body snatcher!” Yelled the first. Grey had no idea what any of that meant, but he turned his back and walked as fast as he dared. Soon, he was back among the subdivided lawns he had seen upon first waking up. Large, green tress shaded the street and there were signs depicting children at play. It all seemed out of place now. A few more ‘pops’ jumped out of the stillness and he thought they sounded a bit louder than before. From somewhere nearby, possible the next street over, he heard someone wailing.

Grey slipped between two houses and into the backyard. There was a metal fence separating them from the next street and a thick curtain of kudzu made it difficult to see. The noise was clearly coming from the house on the other side. He ducked low and tried to stay out of sight. From what he could see, a woman had run out into the yard, screaming, followed by two men in green. She was trying to speak, but in her hysteria, the words rose up as a single column of vowels, indiscernible from one another. Terrified, she backed herself up against the kudzu only a few feet from where Grey was crouching. Sensing danger, he willed himself to become invisible and tried to blend into the tree beside him. The woman fell to her knees, sobbing as the soldiers approached. They regarded her in silence for a moment before firing a round through her chest. Grey jumped at the rifle’s report and saw blood spatter the ground on his side of the fence. A sickening groan slid out of the woman’s throat as she fell, first on her face and then onto her side.

“What the fuck was she thinking?” Asked one of the soldiers.

“No clue.” Replied the other as they turned and went back to the house. When they were gone, Grey called to the woman’s body. Her head was turned towards him and he could see her dark eyes. Her face was slack in a way that looked wholly unnatural and her caramel skin was flecked with tiny drops of red. Black hair crisscrossed her features and quivered ever so slightly in the breeze. Grey felt an ache inside him. It was the same ache that he had felt watching that woman be pursued by the truck. He wanted to help her. Truly he did, but his fear was stronger. Here, lying on the ground looking at this dead woman he saw the price of his cowardice. He slipped away from the scene as quietly as he could and went back to the main street.

As he neared his home, he saw other bodies lying face down in some of the front lawns. Some were covered with bed sheets while others lay in the open where they had been dragged, their arms still above their heads. He paused to examine the features of one but quickly went on his way when another soldier exited the house. He didn’t look back and hoped that they had better things to do than shoot him.

When his house finally came into view, he had to suppress the urge to sprint towards it. He bounded up the steps and through the front door. Shutting it, he put his back against it and closed his eyes. Safe at last, he told himself and allowed his shoulders to relax. It didn’t last. A moment later he heard the sound of breaking glass from one of the bedrooms. As he moved to investigate, a soldier stepped out of the kitchen and stopped him.

“Is this your house?” He asked Grey.

“Yes.” Answered Grey. “I think it is.” Truthfully he had no idea, but this was the only house he knew.

“Come with us.” Said the soldier as another appeared from the bedroom. “You’re under arrest for murder.”