Gathering the Undocumented

The air was filled with the weight of the black smoke. No one knew who set the fires, but they had burned for 4 weeks, and there was no end in sight. The smoke left the sky blotted out, and a dark haze over the sun. There was no reason to bathe or attempt to clean because the soot covered everything. Worse of all it filled our lungs. People were left with horrendous barking coughs trying to rid their bodies of the smoke that quickly wafted in with every breath.

The government pointed the blame to us. They explained that we had set the world on fire in an attempt to protest the arrest of seven of our leaders. They had been invited to meet with Minister Aridam to discuss what could be done to offer peace between the government and us.

Previously there was an outbreak of an infectious disease, that killed many. When a vaccine was finally created, the government required that all immunizations include a Radio Frequency ID Chip that allowed doctors to verify that an individual had a documented vaccine.

Since the government could not force us to take a vaccine, therefore taking the chip, they began calling us the undocumented. Sadly, this designation has ruined our lives. It keeps us from finding work or even buying food. We are left on the fringes of society.

Our leaders meeting with Minister Aridam gave us hope, but the soldiers came into our camp in the middle of the night. Shining bright lights to wake us up, disorient us, and ensure a lessened risk of retaliation. I was asleep in the small lean-to in between two rock walls. My daughter was curled up beside me.

She was five and her long blonde hair was filled with soot. Throughout the night we could hear others coughing in attempt to extricate the smoke from their lungs. Sleep was light but ended abruptly with the shouts and cursing of soldiers. They were in black, full body armor, with masks covering their faces.

As they rounded up the residents, they scanned each one of us to verify our status before they shoved us into the backs of long, black trucks. Marissa held tightly to my hand. She whimpered but refused to cry. She had not cried since her momma died of the virus a few years before.

As I climbed into the truck, they all but threw Marissa in the back. I wanted to fight back, punch them in the face, or find a weapon, but there would be no use. Other than a small abrasion on the corner of her cheek Marissa seemed alright.

I quickly looked around the bed of the truck. While I knew some face, there were many that I didn’t know. Everyone was in a disheveled state, hair was sticking out in all directions, and still in night clothes. I noticed some wore nothing but their underwear, others were dressed but had no shoes. People were being pulled from their beds, forced out into the night, and into the back of trucks, where we all sat in terrified silence.

After a few minutes, there was some shouting from the soldiers, and they locked the end of the trucks. The cage was built with four walls and topped with barbwire. There was no way that we could escape.

Again, a command was made, and a large belch of black smoke came from the top of a long, black exhaust pipe on the back of the cab as the truck began to lurch forward. With the sudden motion there were moans and groans as people collided into one another. I kept my arms tightly around Marissa’s waist. I could not let her go.

A small glint of gold caught my eye on the back of her neck. Puzzled I looked around to ensure no one was watching. I reached for the shiny object, feeling of her neck. Relieved, I noticed the small links of a chain that she wore. She had worn it since her dying mother gave it to her.

Now that we were moving, people started to talk. There were cries of terror. Some speculated that we were being taken to a camp, others figured we’re going to prison, and then there were those who thought we were all about to be put to death. I whispered in my daughter’s ear, a lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was a baby. Marissa loved the song. It always helped her sleep.

The trucks bumped along through the pitted dirt streets of the ghetto. The streets were not wide enough for a vehicle and the trip down them knocked over shacks and lean-tos. It snapped laundry lines causing someone’s underwear to be get caught in the barbed wire on the top. There were muted chuckles as some people nervously laughed about the pair of ripped up tighty-whities clinging to the barbed roof.

The truck made an abrupt turn onto a paved road; it was the highway. The sun was beginning to peek up from the edge of the horizon. Looking out across the valley I could see the Shambles filled with its tiny huts and sheds where we had called home. Looking over to the east I could see the lights of the city. As the sun came up, the lights at the edge of the city slowly began shutting off.

The desolation of the landscape was hard to imagine. There were no green trees littering the hillside, instead it was covered with a wilderness of rocks and dirt. In the distance the billowing smokestacks puffed out black smoke. It filled the skyline with a thick haze. I remembered my grandparents talking about their childhood. They talked about a blue sky and grassy fields, but it had been some seventy years since they were children. They had both died when I was a young child. I had not seen a day when the sky was not filled with a gray haze.

Farther out from the city there was a long line of smoke rising from the earth. It had not seemed to have moved since it first began about a month ago, but it was still there. It reminded all the documented citizens that there were individuals who had no chip, who could run freely and do anything they wanted, including threatening the lives of those documented citizens who abided by the law.

Marissa was now laying in my lap, curled up. Her small frame reminded me of her mother who had been so beautiful. We had all been sick from the virus, but it had ravaged her body. We could not get help in a hospital since we were not vaccinated. Slowly, we watched as the life completely faded from her eyes. Before she died, she took the small gold locket from around her neck and placed it in my hand.

“Please, give…this to my…baby,” her words punctuated with gasps.

I tried to encourage her by telling her that she would be alright, but it was too late. She was gone.

I looked at the small locket in my hand, I remembered when I had given it to her. It was a small golden heart with a pink rose on the front. Inside she had placed miniature picture of me, and one of our new baby Marissa. After she died, I removed Marissa’s baby picture, and replaced it with a picture of my wife. This way, no matter how old Marissa was, she would be able to remember her parents.

That night I put the gold chain around Marissa’s neck and have never taken it off. I had to adjust its size, but it had always been there. When she gets scared, she clasps the locket in her hand. Even now as she slept, she was clasping it.

The large trucks moved along. Looking around I could see there were a half dozen or more of these military trucks. There were ten people in our truck, and with the couple of hundred people that lived in the Shambles, they could need as many as twenty-five to thirty trucks. We continued to bounce along.

After a long time, the trucks began to slow. It appeared we were in the middle of the caravan, so we could not quite see what was up ahead. The facility was surrounded by a long chain link fence with spiraled razor wire on the top. It was intimidating.

The slowing of the vehicles woke up the sleeping passengers. Children began fussing for food, and parents attempted to comfort them. It was quite easy to do since many of these children ate very little as is. They were used to having small meals that were few and far between.

I watched as truck after truck pulled through the gate, stopping only briefly at the large guard shack. There were fifteen trucks in front of us, and many more behind. Guards wearing the same black body armor and mask stood near the guard shack. They brandished long rifles.

We pulled through the gate and were still unable to see where they were taking us. The road followed the edge of a rocky hill. As the trucks came around to the other side, we all gasped as we saw a large white bubble shaped building. It almost looked like a massive tent, and it had ribs from the front to the back.

Each truck stopped in front of the building. The soldiers herded us out of the back of the truck and through a chain link gate. Using the muzzle of the gun as a prodding stick, they pushed us along towards a large front door.

Just inside the door, another group of soldiers separated the men from the women. Marissa grabbed tightly to my hand, when a soldier tried to force her in the group of women. She held tighter and cried out.

I knelt to try to reassure her. The sadistic officer pointed the weapon at my face and demanded me back to my feet. A lady who lived very close to us gabbed Marissa’s hand and pulled her away. She cried for me, but there was nothing I can do.

The corridor opened into a large room, with showerheads lining the walls. Stripped of our clothes, each of us quickly rinsed off. We were then pushed through a swinging door at the other end of the room.

I could only imagine my baby girl being treated in the exact same way in a group of unknown women. I prayed they did not confiscate her locket.

Passed the swinging door, there were numerous tables. Each of us stood in line naked, dripping, and cold. The floor was made of a metal grate which allowed the water to drip through. There were large fans strategically placed to ensure we would dry quickly.

As we made our way passed the tables, they handed out clothing, checked our temperatures, and did a quick visual scan to make sure no one brought contraband or a weapon into the facility. After this humiliation, we were taken to a small room in groups where we were allowed to get dressed.

By the time they took us to our bunks, we were exhausted. My stomach ached in hunger, since we had not eaten. Food was always scarce, but we typically had at least one meal a day. Today however, we had not eaten at all.

Making matters worse, we had no way to tell the time. They woke us up early, with the drive, and the longtime it took to be processed, it could be mid-afternoon or evening. It didn’t matter, I needed sleep as did everyone else.

Before the guard shut the door he said, “Sleep good, who knows if you will see tomorrow.” Letting out a laugh, he slammed the door. It sealed with a loud hiss.