THERE WAS NO LIME:
So many had been snuffed out in their surgical, silent attack, and so few traces of an enemy presence left behind that it was as if ghosts had vanquished the entire FEMA camp, and the only ones left alive and able to scream didn't matter or alert any nearby help, for they were all the ones being dragged by impossibly strong, robotically-assisted grips, out of their encampment and back into the deadly outside world and its indiscriminately blinding night. Those who were not blind had burlap bags cinched down over their heads, tied off snugly around their necks. Everyone was hog-tied with restraints that seemed slightly elastic yet unbreakable. The larger and stronger, heartier captives were beaten and stunned with electricity to the point that they wouldn't even be able to stand, let alone pose any opposition. Those who continued to scream or otherwise make noise were punched in their throats and kidneys until they understood. Their captors did not fear having noises give their position away, for everything within a dozen miles of the camp was dead, and no human detection methods would pick up their suits or vehicles. That, and they had enough custom, illegally modified firepower to level half a nation if need-be.
Sarah, along with all the others, was once again relieved of the second skin and security blanket her mind had considered her clothing to be. Stripped of her one-size-fits-all prison-style garments, she was inspected in a form close to molestation, and shackled while all of her orifices were inspected just the same, to include having fingers and medical probes inserted into her ****** and ****. Any time she made a noise of protest or discomfort, she received yet another punch in the kidney, or a vicious slap across the face so hard it made her ears ring. No verbal commands were issued. No verbal communications from her or any of the other American captives were responded to (or tolerated) either.
The sturdy captors –quiet professionals to no end- began to carry on dialogues where their prisoners could hear. It was up to Sarah and the other captives to decide if this was ‘mind-fucking’; psy-ops, a careless and complacent violation of OPSEC, or something else entirely. The captors left out mention only a few of their directives, such as the one that advises ‘**** or be raped’, ‘collect spoils of war for yourselves or become the spoils of war’, and many more to that effect, such as Richard Marcinko’s law of special warfare ‘There Are No Rules - Thou Shalt Win At All Costs’. However, their low, casual, smooth baritone voices just barely set above whispers, as they had been trained to speak most times, spoke many other things clearly; they were having fun, this had been a long time coming, and many of the ancient secret societies only vaguely alluded to in movies and internet websites were apparently deeply involved. Some of the captors began to wonder if this was a trick to make them doubt their wounded nation, or the casual revelation that they had been pawns to be harvested all along, or something even direr, such as aliens, demons, or beyond.
With everyone now blindfolded (or blind), gagged and bound, naked and lying however they had been beaten down, small puffs and flutters, like the rapid flapping of tiny wings, began to occur at odd intervals slowly making their way closer and closer to Sarah’s position on the cold, rocky earth far outside the leveled fences of her camp. The smells of cordite, hot brass, bile, burning meat, and heavy sweating assaulted her nostrils, and was quickly joined by the familiar smells of more urine and feces which she had first encountered on the emergency evacuation train cars. The sounds of limp, heavy sacks, gasps, and gurgles, splashes of something fluid and amorphous hitting sludgy puddles just a few feet behind her and below ground level came next. Then, after several minutes of this, the sounds of occasional skulls clacking against other skulls or knee caps came next. If Sarah’s mind was astute enough, it would soon create a picture for her of what was unmistakably a brand new and rapidly filling mass-grave, of which she now sat naked right along the lip of.
Organs were spilling out. Others were being ripped out. Some were collected. Others were tossed aside. Pelican cases full of vials, beakers, and Ziploc bags were packed to the brim with the samples of the recently deceased. Those who began to **** and **** themselves were instantly made to stand, and had catheters forced into them to collect what they released while their blood was being drained. Though Sarah could not know this, only several dozen remained alive, unsampled, and guarded.
THE CONVOY LEAVES:
Those who weren’t teenagers, and weren’t tossed or shoved into the mass-grave, were gutted, hung by nooses of their own intestines, freed of their eyes and ears, dragged behind the stocky war trucks, or super-glued and strapped all around them to ensure that any attempt to attack their assets would result in catastrophic, grizzly physical harm to their civilian prisoners, not to mention the psychological devastation stacked upon those near enough them to smell their hissing, phosphorous-steaming wounds, and to hear their helpless, blood-gurgling cries cacophonously precluded by nothing as the precursors to their inevitable death rattles. Side by side, they manned the exteriors of these vehicles; the ‘scare-humans’ designed to frighten other humans back away, like the scare-crows farmers of their falling Age had once, not many days ago, still used.
The dozens of teenagers, all females, were the only ones spared from these other procedures, and all were dragged inside the oversized, bus-like war-vehicles, up their textured troop-ramps leaving light scrapes and bruises all over them as the uniform sound and vibration of the marching, armor-clad boots of their abductors concluded the raid. The ramps quietly raised and sealed behind them, and, still blind or blindfolded, they were each tossed into their own cage welded into the interior plating of their vehicle’s cargo chambers, and the proud and merry, mightily laughing guards double-checked their full-body shackles, slammed the locking cage doors shut, and walked off to attend more duties elsewhere in the large vehicles as their subtle rumbling and the feelings in the girls’ bellies indicated gradual forward acceleration.
Inside the vehicles, and all around them, constant blood, hair, urine, saliva, finger- and toe-nail, and skin cell samples were taken, just as they had been from those who were left in the mass-grave, for it was still a time for W.G.I. when they had not yet developed alternative means of cloning and human-engineering. The brutal raping and barbaric interrogation methods were constant, as well. People were skinned alive, forced to overdose on narcotics, doused in scalding acid, lit on fire, and slowly fed to wild animals while both were locked in cramped, iron cages. The mass graves they had driven away from were not covered in lime, nor were they lit ablaze; they were left open and festering, stewing with bile, lost bowels, vomit, entrails and urine of those petrified souls whose toes had been creeping over the slimy, guts-encrusted edges of the shallow, earthen landfills of the meat and marrow of the ‘manimals’. The time for the global ‘breaking of the fever had come’; the time for the accelerated purging of the virus known as man was underway, and Gaia certainly was not in protest.
The portal technology was not yet available to these troops who even outranked the all-black, unlabeled, unregistered, contract mercenaries of the shadow governments, but their technology was, all the same, far superior, and allowed them to move with greater stealth, coordination, and encryption, beyond anything the forensic scientists could work with, and beyond anything the criminal psychologists could understand. It wasn’t yet the hive mind envisioned by their leader, but it was close, and it bordered on something just past the understanding of a collective serial killer cult; a real-time copycat killer like a doppelgänger or omni-present Angel of Death.
REMOVED FROM HER CAGE:
It was silent for a few minutes, as their enslavement vehicle quietly hummed, rocked, and negotiated whatever terrain it was traversing outside. There were no sounds of activity anywhere inside Sarah’s hallway-like chamber lined with teenage-girl-filled cages. The air was growing warm and stale, for the ventilation had intentionally been kept to an absolute minimum to keep the captives light-headed and weak. “PRISONER!” a booming voice that could not possibly have come from any man blasted Sarah from point blank range, as if it was almost inside her own head, or, at least, merely a few inches from her face, despite the fact that she was still shacked inside her tight-fitting cage. A rough hand slapped her across her face, a metallic boot pushed one of her feet and legs out of the way, and another hand slapped her exposed ***** with such a force as to knock all the wind out of her. Her shackles remained on, but somehow came free of their bindings to the cage and the wall behind her, and she was yanked out by her hair while some other unseen guard of large proportions took hold of her pinky fingers and hooked on of his oversized, armor-gloved fingers into her *******. This was how they escorted prisoners. The words they chose, along with their volume and unannounced entries, were just more mental tricks along the lines of ‘shock and awe’; modern spells for modern man.
A hatch unlocked and slid into a wall, opening up a pathway for Sarah and her brutal escorts. Her ******* would already be sore and threatening to tear. Her head would be held all the way back, as if to keep her looking straight up at the ceiling as they prodded and nudged her walking straight forward. The hatch slid back out of the wall, locking behind them. With her limited sight, it would still appear completely black all around her. She would feel her knees bump into a solid panel, and then the finger in her ******* would flex and lift her lower body up by its hook, as the hands holding her pinky fingers released, and as the fist clenching all of her hair lifted her upper body by her scalp and pushed her head forward, releasing her hair as she fell forward onto the flat operating table. Her shackles were immediately locked down around the corners and edges of the table. Something electrical sounding was followed by all of her shackles tightening and stretching out her limbs spread-eagled. Electrodes like those the EMTs in ambulances use were placed in several spots around her body, and a helmet was placed over her head which began to swell around her scalp until it felt almost like a blood-pressure band. This time, a voice that sounded like it was originating from between her ears –inside her own head- sounded in a still commanding, but slightly less menacing or damning tone: “Answer truthfully. We see all lies.” It was no lie to pressure her into helping them develop their technology; they would be able to see what her mind was seeing. Having her verbalize it was another test and purpose entirely.
THE TEST BEGINS:
One of the many purposes of this mission she had unwittingly become a part of, was to test the first ‘mind interfaces’ on the humans that DARPA and the USAF had originally proposed. Since Sarah was blind, she was a perfect candidate for this; completely incapable of relying on humanity’s primary sense, she would have to see things only in her mind, proving whether or not the technology worked on her type of brain. The voice in her head asked her to describe what she was seeing. At first the images were just blurs or static or didn’t show up at all, but adjustments were made somewhere else in her new chamber of the still slightly rocking vehicle, and when she finally saw the images in her mind and described them correctly, her captors took note and sent off the needed reports, tweaking the new technology for later. Sarah would continue to see shapes, creatures, and colors, and feel sensations that could not be described in her language; she would even feels afraid or happy suddenly, and then feel some of her muscles flexing on their own. The ‘mind interface’ test on her, one of millions of subjects, had been completed for now.
A needle was poked into her arm, and coolness rushed in through its tiny hole, spreading through her local blood vessels until she felt a tingling in her eyes. The darkness suddenly became dull gray, and then amoebic blurs of color. Finally, the lights in the room began to brighten very slightly and slowly, allowing her to see the front edge of the table she was lying stomach-down against, and her forearms and hands, shackled out at angles to either side of her head. The tingling in her eyes faded until it was no more, and for the first time, she was allowed to see the full-body armor suits of her captors, and like space-age knights they did appear. Like the fabled tales of the Jesus human restoring sight to the blind, now these battle-suited raiders had done just the same.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS, ‘EYES ON’:
All identical in every aspect and dimension, with no human parts visible even in the slightest, they stood tall and proud within suits similar to the M.A.N.T.I.S. or Iron Mar exoskeletons, minus, of course, the hand-jets. Still called Ghost suits, they would later be dubbed Storm Trooper suits, or ‘S-T’s’ for short. Their masks were similar to the Predator mask from the movie saga of the same name, and they had been built from reverse engineering those very things, recovered during hellacious battles. With them, they could see in the entire spectrum, rather than just in visible and I-R. There were no Repulsines built into them yet, nor any teleporters or mind-reading devices, but they did have eye-reading software, as well as facial-recognition, heartbeat sensors, projectile reverse trajectory plotting, and echo triangulation, making them the most lethal counter-snipers and recon-hunters the world had ever known. And although on their forearms were mounted cylindrical gauntlets packed full of various weapon and targeting systems, they still carried assault rifles, although their version of those ‘small arms’ were a bit wider, bulkier, lighter, and more devastating than the human equivalents; these rifles fired bullets, lasers, streams of jellied gasoline, plasma, smart-grenades, and sonic streams capable of pushing and cutting. Later upgrades would also fire microwave beams, fear-inducing beams, ion streams, and include PPCs, along with a whole other arsenal of space-age weaponry.
In an odd turn of events, those who had treated her the worst, and who were secretly responsible for the nuclear obliteration of her city, as well as the cold-blooded murder of her guardian angel soldier friend, had restored her sight and spared her from one of the follow-up waves of carnage and extermination. Stripping her naked and roughly handling her had begun to improve her immune system and calluses, and the fresh air she’d had to sleep in far outside her city had allowed the cilia in her lungs to start restoring those precious organs to their rightful pink status.
And although she would never be told this by any of them, Sarah would later find out that this advanced military force was not wiping out mankind, or waging a jihad against the Christians, or attempting to replace the power structure of the American superpower, nor were they upset with democracy or the freedoms enjoyed by any of the peoples they had rounded up and dispatched. They had only tested their nukes, their overriding of foreign UAVs, their suppressor technology, their omni-optics, and their ability-enhancing armor suits that would one day lead to the Spartan program and its Mjolnir armor. These rogue warriors had only knocked out communications temporarily to move in their ground forces covertly, just as the Americans had done in the Gulf War when their F-117 Nighthawk stealth aircraft took out the Iraqi army’s radar sites so their AH-64 Apache helicopters could then move in, followed by their special operatives who worked with the British SAS to take out all of the SCUDs. It was a repeat of history, only this time America was on the receiving end of their own tactics; a taste of their own military medicine. Not a revenge, or even karma, it was just the confirmation methods chosen by their bullish successors.
At some point along their unknown route through the American plains, the large, bus-like vehicle slowed to a halt; all of the naked girls shackled in their cages feeling it through their bodies; the militant, drum-like march of armored boots striking the semi-flexible, hard panel flooring of their cage chamber alerting them to the fact that more abusive guidance was fast approaching. One girl’s was emotionlessly informed: “You are the property of the new King now.” It was just so the guards could enjoy her wilting reaction, and right in front of all the others, she was raped 50 times before they reach their next destination; the next stopping point across the ravaged American plains where they continued to scan for stray humans that weren’t collected by the FEMA trains and camps. If they detected any, they paused only long enough to round them up, make them kill each other after digging their own graves, and moved on. All of the girls were made to watch. All of their sight had been restored. Anyone that looked away was forced to beat another girl senseless, who was forced to stand at attention and ‘just take it’. There were also mass-punishments which included water-boarding and branding, tattooing barcodes on their foreheads, and shaving them completely bald to include their eyebrows. One violator was deemed so offensive that she was hung by a meat hook in her *******, dangling from the ceiling with hand- and ankle-cuffs locked together, bleeding out anally and screaming hysterically only feet away from all the other caged girls.
Another halt resulted in a large group of country folk being shackled together like horses drawing a sleigh, after which point they were made to walk together behind the vehicles until they began to drop and die, many of them being dragged for miles before their bodies finally stopped working and started to stretch and break apart. Yet another halt resulted in Sarah and some of the other girls being escorted out of their cages, down the troop ramps, and out to stand along the side of the tall vehicle they had been in this whole trip. Facial and genetic recognition devices had shown a high likelihood that the stray humans they’d just detected were related to the girls they’d already captured, and Sarah that day, with her restored, crystal clear vision, watched as her family (who had been hitch-hiking and wandering away from the fallout zone of their city) was forced to fight each other to the death, lest their Sarah be slowly cooked upon a rotating spit and fed to them. It was no idle threat; word had already spread that these troops had been doing that to many hundreds of thousands of people already. The remains were tied to the human-cattle chains, and their convoy drove on. Some thought of The Trail of Tears, and figured the gods were being coldly fair; returning the ‘favor’ they had bestowed upon the Natives across these lands many generations ago. Perhaps… but who could know?
SARAH SET FREE:
Others locked away in Sarah’s captivity vehicle had their minds erased and completely refilled with pre-programmed personalities. Sarah was one of the girls randomly chosen to be released to tell her story. It didn’t matter to her captors if she was locked away in an asylum, overmedicated and told to keep quiet, or if her words were believed and created the metastasizing splash-damage of a horror wave. She was unbound and on her own now, simply pointed in the direction of the nearest, radiation-free city, and abandoned by those who had so thoroughly violated her. She would have to make sense of it all –of everything that had just happened to her and her country- over the next half year that humanity (completely ignorant of this fact) had left. Having been raped countless times before her release, she would also have to find a way to get past the Outlander brainwashing that often led females to believe that once raped, they’d been wronged, or that their value had been permanently reduced. Sarah still had a long way to go, and many more trials ahead.
Meanwhile, those evacuated to the safety of the other FEMA camps in the Rex 84 program continued to be mass-executed via more nuclear weapons in some cases, and, when the shadow government wished to be more discreet and randomizing, by orchestrated epidemic outbreaks; things like small-pox contaminations justifying further lock-downs and prolonged decontaminations, while the truth was they were all just waiting for everyone to die. Sarah, whenever she finally made it back into growing groups returning to now vacant, abandoned homesteads daringly close to the suburban outskirts of America’s many cities, would find a population and general technology level significantly reduced, although, eventually, it would become known that only 1 billion globally had died, and only 40 million or so of them in America, leaving nearly 300 million to attempt a heart-wrenching reconstruction which Sarah would be bound by martial law to help with.
In the ‘grey sector’ (corporate America), like Elite Team before it, and like the NSGWP (National Socialist German Workers Party) before that, WGI was officially founded with but a handful of men, hoping to best even Branson and Virgin in their quest to dominate a hundred fields. Becoming a major player in many industrial and political sectors, it grew into an ‘overnight giant’, buying up damaged and relinquished properties, trading lesser technologies and intelligence, and establishing powerful alliances and trade agreements with the government personnel slowly creeping back up out of their doomsday holes. With the shadow government still behind them, WGI greatly aided in the American and global reconstruction, all the while only doing so to ensure a greater amount of battles and data streams in the Apocalypse War they’d been planning in just as much exhaustive detail.
Dr. Auzdein von Himmler
Governor of Inisfree