seeterhwserh

An old women sat alone on her porch, rocking in an old wooden chair. Nothing but desert surrounded her for miles. A dust cloud kicked up off in the distance. The faint roar of an engine rumbled through the air, interrupted only by the creek of the old wood beneath Gale’s feet.

	The only thing for miles was a large Black truck tearing its way across the dried and ravaged lakebed, and the faded blue house seemingly built in the center of nothing. The cracks in the paint matched the dry earth below. The cracks in the ground matched the cracks and wrinkles on Gale’s pale white skin. Gale sat and inhaled, she felt the familiar sensation of air being pumped into her lungs through the tubes in her dry throat. Her brain hadn’t worked right in years, the only thing keeping her alive were the countless wires, artificial joints and valves that ran through her entire body, more machine then human. The air around her seemed stale, odorless and dead like the skin that clung to her frail silhouettes. Too weak to open her eyes, and if she could she would have seen nothing as she had gone blind years ago, her eyes faded to a milky white much the same color as her skin. Her entire body had failed years before, the only organ that functioned without assistance was her was her brain, if you could call what was a left that.
She sat and felt the tight clutch in her chest as the breathing apparatus tightened to exhale. Rocking, waiting…As truck made its way closer the hum of the engine grew louder, its outline shimmered on the horizon as the hot air clashed with the sky above.
It was three minutes before the truck came to a stop. Even after the truck had parked the sound hummed through the desert around it, and a dust trail hovered in the dry air like smoke.
A click of the door, followed by the hollow thump of a boot made its way to Gale’s ears, as two men exited the vehicle and stood looking at the old house, the old pointed house with broken shudders and the cracked shingles, the house with the roof crooked like the women’s perched on the porch below, the house in the middle of a desert, the only house for miles. It was an old blue ranch, so sun faded that it almost looked white against the clear blue sky. The two scanned the horizon before making their way forward, felling the hard ground shatter and crack beneath their boots as they made their way towards Gale. Even through their camouflage quarantine suit they could tell the air was stale and dead like so much else in this desert.
They stepped up onto the old steps, and onto the porch, dry paint flakes crunching breath their boots, as they stopped in front of Gale. The men {They is better} looked around at the desert, scanning the empty horizon again before looking at each other through the gas masks clinging to their face’s. The taller man nodded slightly at the shorter man, and as he did the shorter man knelt down beside Gale. He wondered as he looked up at her frail, half lifeless body why in the hell she was still alive after all these years. Why couldn’t they have just shot her at the start of this whole thing so many years ago, put her out of the misery.
He looked up at the taller man who again nodded, without a single word between them the man took a deep breath in and grasped the tube that ran from the small metal box beside him, up the chair and into Gale’s spine. He clenched his eyes shut as he pulled down sharply, and felt the tube tremor in his hand as it slid across each vertebrate and out onto the porch. He opened his eyes and winced at the sight, blood and a milky white liquid drained out from the thin tube and pooled around his boot. He stood up and moved his foot away as he looked at Gale’s face. It was twisted and clenched in agony, and he couldn’t help but pity her. The two men waited for what seemed like ages as the life slowly drained out of Gale’s body. The taller man checked his watch as Gale’s body finally fell limp. He looked at the shorter man and nodded as he turned his back and began to walk back towards the truck. The heat was starting to get to the man, but he was glad it was finally over. Even as he turned his back and began to follow the taller man he could swear he smelled the vile rot of flesh that was leaking out behind him. The entire atmosphere seemed empty, like the truck was the only thing beside the house for miles. He took a deep breath as he got back into the shade of the truck and removed his mask, and looked at the taller man, as if he would speak, but he didn’t. He took another deep breath as the roar of the engine started up in front of him. The military hadn’t purchased any new trucks in years, but he was glad that this one had air conditioning. He again looked at the taller man as if he would speak, and again he didn’t, he kept his eyes on the desert ahead as the truck lurched forward and began to pick up speed. The shorter man sighed to himself as he rested his head on the window beside him, the truck tearing off through the desert around him.
 So, I guess the last survivor of the DavCon project is finally gone, hopefully we can wash our hands of this whole mess, and the mess of our fathers, the younger shorter man thought, as he looked down at his gloved hands. He took one last deep breath in as they raced back towards the Nevada army base 51.