Dead Weight

The cracked windows allowed in just enough sunlight to illuminate the millions of dust particles floating through the ruined living room. Fifty years of wear had not been kind to sofa, whose springs promised to bite anyone that attempted to sit.

The kitchen was conjoined to the living room, the only barrier being a small cabinet separating shag from linoleum, soft from hard. Crouched on the hard and under the cabinet hid two dirty humans. What at first appeared to be two frightened and scurvy children, a boy and a girl. A short examination of their interactions quickly reveals the maternal nature of the young woman.

“It’s going to be ok, Billy,” she promised in a hushed, raspy tone. “I’m going to protect you from them,” she lied.

Although the radiation that had seeped into the landscape surrounding them, and seeped into the blood of the helpless woman, had severely stunted her growth, the young woman somehow defied physics and managed to completely cover the young boy’s body with her own.

The object of their fears was soon looking upon the house. Chapped lips pursed as the man gazed upon the house. From beneath a long unkempt beard the man growled to the underlings standing behind him, “Shoot the men, take the adolescents, and keep the women. Oh, and kids are dead weight too.”

Without hesitation the men moved toward the door of the house, identical to a hundred other houses in that neighborhood. In fact, the house’s only mark of distinction was the chipped red paint peeling off in large strips. The two men paused a second before entering the front door, automatic guns raised high.

Once the men were in the house, the women froze. Staring at the strange mosaic of interlocking circles on the floor, she desperately wished that she could jump through one of the rings and out of the situation. She wanted nothing more than to blend into the cabinet around her, hoping to sneak under the men’s eyesight.

Yet the woman’s hope had no avail. The couple was quickly seized and thrown through the open door of the house. The momentum was such that it took the young woman and the young boy straight off the porch and landed them prostrate before the leader.

The man nodded to his men as a sign to continue the search of the house. The leader felt that these two were within his powers to control.

The man glanced first upon the woman, once he recognized her as such. He did a quick scan of her physical features, checking first the face, then the chest, and finally the legs. Good women were hard to come by, as most lasted less than a year in their service to the troop. Yet she was but a girl, he surmised, and although it was not unheard of among the troop, it was not a fancy he partook in.

Not more than ten seconds had elapsed. The entire time the women spent staring at the man in horror, while she buried her son’s head into her stomach. Yet fear had scarcely loosed its grip upon her brain and allowed function to return than she saw the man’s hand move.

After his examination of the couple, the man began to think of only one phrase. This was no surprise, since everyone in the troop heard it used quite often by those of higher rank. Within ten seconds of meeting the woman and her child, he could only think of the words DEAD WEIGHT. Without giving a thought to their character, personalities, or gifts he simply labeled them DEAD WEIGHT.

And there was only one thing to do with DEAD WEIGHT. Before his mind realized what was going on, the man found his hand bringing up his pistol he kept holstered on his right hip. Staring straight into her round, brown eyes the man pointed his gun directly at her forehead and pulled the trigger. With only a seconds delay the man put the pistol to the back of the boys head and pulled the trigger.

A sound from the porch drew the man’s gaze. The two bodies before him lay lifeless.

“It’s clear,” said one of the men.

The leader had just ended the life of two human beings, two individuals. Yet in twenty seconds the man had met them, killed them, and, along with the rest of the world, forgotten about them. He turned his gaze up the street at the long line of houses adorned with dirt patches in front, some with peeling paint and some without.

“Let’s get going,” said the leader. “Got a lot more houses to check.”