The Herd.
Walking swiftly through a line of people, Laura felt uneasy. “They’re not really people, it’s their duty to serve us,” she thought, as she trudged forward. The air felt cold and dense, despite her wearing a long sleeved pants suit. Her heels clicked on the hard porcelain tiles, pierced the air, and echoed off the walls. When she arrived in front of the lines, her heart sinked to her stomach. She had a speech to give. She’d given it at least three times a year, but at varying facilities for consecutive years. She was eighteen when her father entrusted her with his company, and she trusted him with her heart until death took him elsewhere. Her duty was not only to humanity, but to her dear old dad.
As she approached the microphone, she had a sense of ease. “I’ve gathered you here today to congratulate you on the work you’ve accomplished for Cerulean Inc. You allowed this company to excel in the world we love so much. Therefore, it is time for you to give a sacrifice to the future of Cerulean and to humanity. For we aren’t just a company, we are a family. Who else would you trust with your most precious gift? Remember, this isn’t about you, but about the future of the world and your contribution to Cerulean…”
The guards, who dressed in a blue uniform adorned with velcro and various weapons, vacated their positions in the facility and stepped toward the people standing in lines. The eyes of men and women watered as their children were taken and hooked onto machines. These apparatuses encapsulated babies inside a clear plexiglass. They received a duty and number and would never leave the warehouse for two decades, being released for the reproduction of new workers.
A lady jumped out of line. She grabbed her child from a guard and screamed “I love you!” to her little boy. Then got hit with a bullet right between her eyes. The boy was collected, and washed, then sent to the machines. The rest of the group faced the machines, with their eyes and lips trembling. They knew what work awaited them in Cerulean Inc; the fathers would be sent to the cubicles or the corn fields, indefinitely, and the mothers would pick in the gardens, while others served in the kitchens.
Laura looked upon the crowd and felt sorrow, but knew her duty lied with her company, Cerulean. She’d never experience what the people in line experienced, and sometimes felt an ounce of sadness. But she was happy now — knowing she’d never have to bear the burden of having her family taken from her.
Laura felt her baby kick in her stomach. And it snapped her back to reality. She had a child, a family to think about, and refused to startle herself. Her husband might turn mad if she had lost another baby. So her mind didn’t go there for too long. This business offered her freedom, since the conception of her late father. Although the people in the lines may have looked like her, in the eyes of Cerulean, they were cattle and currency.
