BUM-RUSH

The crowds slogged, shoving and buffeting through the sloughs of a shoddily dredged revetment that poured in from the nearest settlements. Some of the residents learned late, barely mustering the time to collect their precious portables and vacate their tenements. But others were given ample time from weeks prior, yet they had lived day to day, heedless of the proconsul’s advisories handed down from the Federation itself, and now they found themselves cursing and grumbling as they shambled toward the high-capacity transport vessels that lazed across the sloven fields. Many more filled the skies in droves.

Amidst the waving and rocking of human flesh, Broddick held tight to his mother, grabbing her hand and watching the ever-shifting wall of wailing. The haggard faces, the sodden raiment, the slow churning of shoulders, and the moans and grunts of undead cadavers, spurred his curiosity as well as the burgeoning terror of being trampled underfoot.

“Don’t stray!” His mother barked at his older sister, Litza, who surrendered to her own curiosity and began to wander into the sea of grief. She immediately recoiled at the sight of her father who whipped his head around with a stabbing glare.

Keep close!

Broddick knew little of the chaos swarming around him and knew even less of the reason. But he tried refraining from too many questions. So far, the answers they had given him were: “Just get ready,” and “Here. Take this,” as his mother fastened a scrip around his chest just before their untimely departure. He was unable to take anything else. Tears welled up in his eyes.

They still flowed as he doggedly shuffled without end, his feet slurping the ground like straws siphoning the bottom of a malt. He protested under his breath. Desperate, he let his inhibitions come tumbling down. The burning questions returned.

“Where are we going?” he asked for the umpteenth time.

A minute passed before she answered in a flustered huff. “To those ships, Broddick,” she snipped, leaning towards him and pointing. “See how big they are?”

That was plain to see.

“Now, please, no more questions!” she hollered in finality, swiping her hands in a single snap.

His father shook his head, muttering words Broddick couldn’t hear, but noticed the tone in the way he sulked and sighed, occasionally grabbing the air in a silent scream toward the heavens. A slew of profanities followed, coupled by additional words the boy got wind of. “Imperium’s got us…we’re finished…which other planet?…the federals have lost their heads…this’ll happen again and again…buffoons!” He plunged into hysterics.

It was hard to understand what he alluded to, but the boy had a terrible feeling it was something greater than what he was aware of. Then he overheard a disheveled passerby who muttered, “The Federation’s toast! Too big to stay united…”

But this IS the federation, he thought in burning disbelief.

“REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE!” A sudden alert flashed over the oculars, though not everyone had the implants, or could have afforded them in the last several years of economic contraction, and many blindly proceeded toward the carriers. Like a giant spindly insect seeking its prey, a patrol sentinel lithely pattered over the crowds and stopped the more stubborn of the evacuees, having to physically assert their authority.

“What’s going on?” Broddick asked, echoing the cries of the others.

“I don’t know,” his mother tersely replied, who afterwards kept her silence. She squinched her eyes, verging on tears herself.

“Just do as they say!” His father grumbled a rejoinder.

Another walker settled over Broddick’s queue. “Women and children ONLY!” it coldly announced, its cyclops head lining its sights with every citizen. Broddick expected a beam of scorching light to fire into the crowds, ashing him and everyone else.

Heads swiveled wildly. This was new. Many huddled into a tight embrace, vainly looking to protect their own; though, his parents refrained. His father looked unphased. Broddick figured the stress might have clouded his judgment. Unable to contain his anxiety, he decided to inquire into the matter, even against his parents’ wishes.

But only the drone of murmurs and grunts filled the deafening silence.

“Stay here!” his father commanded, his only answer. Amongst a flurry of protest, he bulled his way to the front of the queue, shouting and flailing his arms at the mechanized shepherds.

After several minutes of futility, one of them lunged down, vis-a-vis the man, and loudly dictated, “Follow orders or face arrest!”

He froze with his arms suspended, dropped them with a dead man’s slack, and melted back into the crowd, only to resurface a few minutes later with a defeated frown etching out his jawline.

“They’re short on men,” his father admitted with grueling disdain. “Someone whispered it into my ear.”

“What do you mean?” his mother shouted. “Did they attack? It’s not like we’re ignoring their demands!”

“They didn’t say—”

Two interceptors raced overhead in a veil of condensation and plunged into orbit. A terrible clap of thunder rattled everything within proximity, impairing the hearing of the sensitive few. The multitudes stirred.

“WE REPEAT…” More commandments scrolled across the oculars.

The crowds split into a mill of jeers and taunts. They clinged to each other, hoping for reprieve, but the sentinels intruded, prying open locked arms as they would a broken door, and plucked away the paternal guide stones.

Broddick’s mother shrieked and latched onto her husband, but she and her children’s combined strength paled to the authoritative force, and they helplessly watched as their father was dragged away in a hail of thrashing and swearing. They heard him holler things like, “The Federation’s weak…push-overs…handing ourselves to the enemy…!” until he disappeared from sight.

Broddick suddenly broke down; so did everyone else. But his mother, clenching her teeth with rage, mustered the courage and cupped her arms around her children. A commotion. They looked up. Another sentinel marched in front of them and ordered the families deprived of their crown to follow.

Rivers of salt flooded the boy’s face as he bawled his way to the carrier. He wasn’t alone. Others shuffled inside, tracking mud and lingering frustration. Fights broke out, competing for seats. The sentinels, getting wind of a disturbance, slipped inside the cabin as limber as spiders and hurled the disorderly back into the dirt.

Broddick’s mother wrapped the crash net around him, securing his seat. She caressed his cheek, her first act of tenderness since fleeing their home. Litza said nothing, her face sagging and numb of thoughts.

“I miss daddy!” he trilled.

The mother said nothing. He turned toward the portal and waved, hoping somewhere his father saw him, and that his family was safe. But the questions remained.

“Mommy, will we ever see daddy again?”

His mother, surrendering in a huff, stuttered. “I…I…I don’t know, honey. Just do as you’re told.”

“Prepare for ascension,” the intercom chimed. “Destination: Staver’s Parch.”

A swell of incredulous moans washed through the fuselage. Broddick knew little of the Peripheral worlds, but he recalled that Staver’s Parch was an old mining world, hostile and without breathable air. He wondered if he and everyone else would be housed in the old quarries that burrowed underground in a network of tubules. The thought repulsed him.

Heads jostled in their seats. The carrier lifted and departed into the void. A fleet of interceptors passed by, more than usual. Broddick shuttered. He thought of his father, and the extra hands needed for the transfer. He assumed they also needed soldiers. Would his father have to fight? They thrusted him and older males into the line of fire, and Broddick wondered if even he and his family would make it out alive.

By Me a Coffee

Purchase all three issues of Phantom Whispers:
Phantom Whispers, Issue 1
Phantom Whispers, Issue 2
Phantom Whispers, Issue 3

Issue #4 available soon! Stay tuned!

You can also read other short vignettes from the Periphery Wars, including the Zoic Wars:
Exchange, Sentry Duty, Spies in the Sky, Breakdown, Blind Trust, Cracks, Initiation, and Casual Entertainment.

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