I lay face-down upon the ground, haunted by what those words meant. Had I heard them right? Was this somehow a test? Was everything all just a test?
The war had ended months ago. I saw no reason for them to continue to traumatize us like this. Let us be free! My throat closed over, leaving my mouth dry and unable to swallow. My chest felt as though a ton of bricks were on top of it, preventing me from breathing. I didn't want to believe any of it. I wanted to stay here on the ground and drown in my own tears that refused to come as though they thought they were some kind of superior part of me. Somebody clearly wanted something, and I feared they wouldn't stop until they got exactly what they wanted; even if it meant the end of me.
I panted, still in shock. Was I really alive? I moved my hand, feeling the cool, grainy dirt beneath it. If this was heaven, it sure wasn't what I thought it'd be. Where was all the Gods? Where was all the pink fluffy clouds, ice cream and tiny fluffy dogs?
Apparently it was in the form of a strangers hands gripping onto my arms and dragging me several feet from where I had landed. I moved my hands, attempting to push myself up off the ground, but failed, flopping back onto it. The heat of the fire no longer warmed my back and instead a cold chill crawled its way up my spine.
"STAND!" a voice above me demanded.
I tried, but it was no use. My limbs simply refused to work; they were dead weight. I groaned. Forming words was a very difficult task to perform after nearly being blown into a thousand pieces. I felt someone grip onto my forearms in response and lift me up. I leaned on them heavily as they walked me over to the voice.
"Thank you," I said, probably too quiet for them to hear. I didn't get an answer, and if I did, I certainly couldn't hear them anyway.
"Your arm," a vaguely familiar voice said through the thick cloud shrouding my head.
I looked up. My vision was blurred and my heart skipped a beat. I desperately needed to know who was demanding to see my arm.
To my stomach's disgust the woman in the white lab coat stood staring down at me. Shivers went down my neck again. She frightened even the worst parts of me; with her pointed nose and jet-black frizzy hair neatly pulled back off her face. There was not an ounce of dirt on her as her piercing eyes bore into mine.
She grabbed my wrist and pulled up my tattered sleeve. Removing a scanner from her belt, I watched as she scanned my wrist and checked off my name.
"Put her with the others," she instructed to the person holding me. I felt them nod and begin to move away from the Monster standing in front of me so proudly, but no matter how far I moved away, my eyes still lingered on her face and everything that was wrong with it.
Gently, my body was led over to a group of other processed and shaking children. I was seated down on the grass, the gaze of a young male appearing in my eye-line and breaking the stare I was maintaining on the 'Monster'. His eyes were a deep brown - darker than my own - and just as clouded. He was lost, like me, and covered in the same soot that made you want to scrub your skin until it shined red.
"You're needed more than you think," he said quietly before he disappeared out of my view.
I never did comprehend the rest of his face - only his eyes and what he said. I was needed? Me? What could I possibly be needed for? I'm just Ellie. The girl from nowhere who'd escaped death and couldn't even get her goddamn thoughts together! At least I hadn't died yet.
The woman I had grown to hate now stood before the group of survivors like a towering beast. A large satisfactory smirk spread from ear to ear as she addressed the crowd of disorientated human beings.
"Congratulations again. When your number is called please follow an Officer to your new job."
She began to call out numbers like it meant nothing to her. Like we weren't people at all to her. Each one she read aloud prompted a response from the owner and they stepped forward. Fear was slowly crawling its way into everyone waiting as each person before them disappeared into the awakening dawn.
"B67."
Startled at the sound of my new name, I hesitated before willing myself to stand. I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of watching me be too weak to get up. My legs wobbled underneath me, and my ears rang louder than before. I anxiously made my way over to the Monster; carefully placing each step so as not to trip and embarrass myself further.
She gestured towards an Officer on her left. "Please follow the Officer into Block 346," she said, not looking up from her clipboard. "You will also need these."
A Drone hovered next to her. Its underbelly opened, dropping a neat little package into her outstretched palm which landed with a light thud. Somehow, the little machine looked vaguely proud of itself for achieving such a menial task. I almost scoffed with amusement, but my parched throat prevented it from ever surfacing.
"Here," she stated as she shoved it into my hands.
She waved me on without a second thought. I really didn't mean anything to her; at least not anymore. Maybe once, she felt something for the children she watched die every week, but standing before her, her eyes were dead. She'd masked her feelings and detached herself from all those that were living. Perhaps she thought we too would die soon, and she wouldn't be entirely wrong either. I hesitantly looked past her, before my wobbling legs moved me on and I followed the Officer down towards the city.
He stopped at the edge of a mangled hill overlooking the warn-out city. A long, winding dirt path wound its way down to the city entrance. Tall shells of the buildings beyond lay on top of each other like fallen Lego blocks. The casings of cars had already been cleared out of the crater and tiny matchstick people moved over the piles of brown and grey. They scattered over the obsolete ground below; climbing over rubble, lifting limp things and hauling wagons wherever they went. Dust swirled up in clouds as hanging bits of building slowly tore off their hinges and gracelessly fell to the ground.
My attention was grabbed by the presence of a young girl, not much older than myself, as she stood waiting. Her bright auburn hair was tied in two messy braids that draped over her shoulders and her eyes shimmered in the early morning sunlight. She held a belt in her right hand, and a large collection of brightly coloured necklaces in her left. A wide grin reached her face from ear to ear.
"It's going to be so fun having someone else to work with again! This past week has been so dull! I'm F89 by the way," she said as she hopped around me, fastening the belt to my waist. I stood awkwardly, watching as she zoomed around me, not bothering to ask whether it was a welcome gesture or not. "I must say, this job isn't for the faint hearted, but I'm glad you chose it!"
"What?" I said blinking furiously at her. "I-I didn't get to ch-"
"Anyhow," she started again, cutting me off. "In the morning we clean and tag the bodies from all the camps and then we march onto the city, cleaning the streets of bodies as we go. Any questions?" She finished fastening the final clasp around me and straightening up. "There. All done."
She smiled, two dimples exposing themselves, before she turned and we began our descent down into the decaying city below. I nodded to myself. I had so many questions. What was this place? Why was I doing this job? And bodies...?
I bit my tongue. Did I really want to know the answer to that? Oh fuck it, I may as well get it out in the open. "Bodies...? What are you doing cleaning up bodies?" I asked, retracting slightly at the sound of my own voice.
"The mostly intact ones," she said holding up a green tag from her pile. "You put the green tag on. The mangled ones," this time she was holding up a blue tag. "The blue tag. And any left-over body parts you find, the red tag," she concluded. "You got that?"
Baffled by her blatant ignorance, I started to speak again. "F89, what is this place?"
I waited for her response, but when she gave none, I felt even more compelled to find answers. These were once living people! I knew enough to know that you don't treat a dead person by chucking them on a deposit pile.
"I don't want to have to explain the tag system again to you. So shut up and follow my instructions!" she said abruptly.
I nodded in response, not wanting to be cut off or ignored again. Maybe if I waited patiently, she'd give me the answers?
"Oh, and before I forget, if you find anyone alive, just blow your whistle. The Officers will fix that problem up for you. What was your name again?" she asked preoccupied by her own belt as she adjusted it on her hips.
How was I supposed to answer her? Did I tell her my name was Ellie or did I tell her I was just some number in a system? Her smile disappeared. She was now intently looking at me, waiting for me to open my mouth and speak.
"B67," I spat out. I didn't want to appear like I was dreading such a job, this was supposed to be an opportunity...right?
Satisfied by the answer I gave, she smiled and swung her hips around. "Glad to meet you B67!" she beamed.
"No one lasts long in this position, do they?" I queried.
She stared back around at me, her face slowly shrivelling up. Had I said something wrong? Was I not allowed to speak of such a thing? I was afraid she would ignore the question, or worse, blow her whistle and leave me to the perils of an Officer. Finally, she shook her head. "Not nearly as long as the Pickers," she stated blankly, quickly looking down at her belt to adjust something else that was bothering her.
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