And the hills were arms and legs and heads and bodies… stacks and stacks of children. Blissfully ignorant, he’d been walking among them all along. He staggered and his foot slipped. He reached out and fell against the hill of children behind him. He pushed himself away, desperately trying not to continue to touch their still, lifeless bodies. Their skin was cool and soft to the touch, as though they only slept.
He scanned wildly about, trying to see who (what) had spoken. There were so many discarded children, so many broken and thrown away. How many? His mind couldn’t fathom the numbers he saw. How many mountains of children?
There were all ages, boys and girls, from broken infants to broken pre-teens, his age. They were all his brothers and sisters, products of Kidsmith, novelties, mockeries of life, all extinguished.
“Help me,” said the voice again. It was weak and distant, as though it struggled to say the words. It was androgynous, it could’ve been anyone. Josh sat still, afraid to answer the ghost of the piles, the disembodied voice of thousands upon thousands of children. The silence stretched as though they waited for his answer. The wind picked up, whistling through the artificial valley, as though the android landscape breathed out one last melancholy sigh.
Maybe they’d made a mistake. Maybe someone had thrown away a kid that wasn’t broken! He steeled himself to face his fears. On trembling knees, he half crawled toward where the voice had come from, trying to hold up the tablet’s light, yet unable to get to his feet. His legs couldn’t support him. He couldn’t imagine what would go through one’s mind, discarded here, no one to help you out, nobody even around to hear your call.
“Where are you?” His own voice came out high-pitched and laced with fright. He couldn’t fake being brave, but neither could he run away when there could be another child trapped here.
“Here,” came the voice, “Help…”
“Okay.” Please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost… He reached the mound, but there were so many empty eyes, so many still limbs. He shone the light up and down through the bodies, but none of them responded. “I can’t find you.”
He waited but the voice didn’t answer again. He forced himself to look closer. There was a sadness to each child, their expressions reflected what he felt in his heart. Some had the back of their heads opened, robbed for parts. Others had signs of mistreatment, bruises and scars. Still others looked healthy, as if they were here by choice, to rest in the arms of their brothers and sisters. None of them rotted. None of them looked malnourished. Other than the abuse they’d suffered, they looked perfect, frozen forever in time.
“Are you there?” he asked a little louder, “Is anyone still alive?”
The mound rippled. Here and there it shifted. Suddenly an arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. A little dark-haired girl, maybe ten, lifted her head and cried, “Help us!”
Josh screamed and tried to jerk away, but she held onto him tightly. He dropped the tablet and pushed away using her face for leverage until she let go. She continued reaching, her thin arm outstretched for a few seconds more until she collapsed, too weak to put up any more struggle.
The light from the dropped tablet continued to shine upward, revealing movement all along the mound. Not the girl, she didn’t move anymore, but countless others did. All of them were too weak to move much. Some gasped for breath, while others managed petulant cries for help. The wail of an infant carried above it all.
“I can’t help you,” he said, scooting backwards, “”I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
He staggered to his feet and stumbled forward into a blind run. He didn’t know where he was going, only away from the pit, attempting to leave their cries behind. The further he ran the children still slept, oblivious to the diminishing cries behind him.
Josh ran toward the lights of the buildings, heedless of obstacles. As he entered the cusp of where the light hit the shadow he tripped over something, maybe nothing, or even his own feet, and he fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands, seeking to block out his surroundings. He couldn’t run anymore, his strength sapped out of him.
His fear of the monster paled in comparison.
He didn’t hear the engine of the truck approaching, nor did he look up until the headlights were right in front of him. The white truck with the Kidsmith logo drove slowly, throwing up a trailing cloud of dust, but he couldn’t get back to his feet. Nightmares surrounded him no matter what direction he chose to run.
The truck stopped a few feet away. “Josh?”
It was James. He opened the door and the cab light revealed his female passenger, Angel. He carried some sort of weird gun. She followed right on his heels as he got out and walked slowly over to him. The headlights lit up the nearest mound, exposing the still, broken children. Angel’s steps faltered as it sunk in what she saw.
Josh watched her, expressionless. Her eyes were wide, horror and disbelief waged against each other across her face. She looked at them, and back to the bodies. She tried to speak, her mouth moved with no words coming out. She could only shake her head. She gulped, forcing her throat to work and asked James, “What is this place?”
“The Kidsmith Repository,” James said, “It’s for the unfixable children. You okay, Josh? Is your monster here?”
“It’s hell,” Josh said, fighting back tears, “God doesn’t see us, does he? All of the children, they’re still alive. I just want to go home. Please take me home.”
“There’s so many,” Angel said as she knelt down beside him. “What’s that sound? Where’s it coming from?”
“It’s just the wind,” James said, “Did you see the monster?”
Josh’s glared at him through his tears. When he spoke, he couldn’t restrain his bitterness. “It’s not the wind. It’s the children. You’re the monster. You… people...”
“Now that’s not fair, not all of us are. I’m here to help you. Just like how I fixed your arm, remember? We’re not all bad.”
“No, you just want something. Like everyone else.”
“What about Angel? She cares about you.”
Josh turned to face her. His anger melted when their eyes met. He saw his own feelings mirrored in her expression, created by the overwhelming sadness and the despair of the place. He also saw something else that he didn’t have. Resolve.
He turned back to face James. “She’s not one of you.”
“What? Of course she is. She’s…” James words died. His eyes met Angel’s and he suddenly realized the truth. “Well… what do you know?”
Angel squeezed Josh’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. I don’t know how we’ll do it, but I’ll get you home.” Angel stood and took Josh’s hand, helping him to his feet. He hugged her. Her body went briefly rigid, and then relaxed. Her arms wrapped about him and she held him tight. For the first time since the mountains he didn’t feel alone.
“He can go home after we catch the android,” James interrupted.
She shook her head. “You stick around and wait for it. We’re done.”
Josh reached for her hand. She met him half way and gave it a squeeze. Together they walked toward the gate. James had left it open when he drove in.
“Angel,” James growled, “I need that kid.”
“Use your own,” she said over her shoulder. Josh tried to look over his shoulder but she tugged him forward gently. “Don’t look back,” she said softly, just focus on where we’re going.”