part I

I don’t care, that’s the deal.

Are you deaf? No pictures.

I told you, I don’t give a shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not going to tell you anything you haven’t already heard from the others. Everything they told you is true.

Listen carefully. Every . . . fucking . . . thing.

You think I don’t know that? I feel like a freak. If I were you I probably wouldn’t believe me either but that’s not the point. You asked me remember? Fine, I’ll tell you what I remember as long you don’t take any pictures.

No, I’m not. Listen, I have absolutely no personal interest in this goddamn circus, the last thing I need is a reputation as a fucking nutcase. I’m here to support the others. I’m here because what they’ve told you is the truth. Now, you’ve heard everything I’m willing to tell you about who I am, and now I’m willing to talk about what happened here. But no pictures. So, what’s it gonna be?

Sure, why not.

Fine.

That’s right.

The day before.

Right.

Sounds about right, I didn’t check.

They were still on the truck. We’d just pulled the tarps off . .

They didn’t know what to make of ‘em. Probably why they didn’t kill me on the spot. But . .

Maybe ten or twelve. The rest were in the clinic . .

No shit. Maybe four or five Kalashnikovs, the rest had machetes, I don’t know . .

Yeah, both of them. They threw me on the ground and tied my hands with some wire. Then one of them put his foot on my neck and held an AK against my head . .

Yeah, from the wire. They’ll heal.

I’m fine. I’m fucking alive.

I don’t think it was more than ten or fifteen minutes.

No, I was facing the other way.

Then how about you stop interrogating me and let me tell the fucking story?

Alright then . . . I lay on my belly with my face mostly in the dirt facing the clinic. I couldn’t really see much, mostly rebels going in and out. I was basically waiting to die. I heard a lot of shouting, crying, begging, screaming. Every once in awhile they’d drag some poor bastard outside and execute him, usually with a blade. Bullets aren’t cheap. You know as much about what happened inside as I do. This went on for what turned out to be about twenty minutes. Then something behind me got everybody’s attention and everyone I could see started yelling and pointing, very agitated. Rebels started pouring out of the clinic and taking defensive postures. You know, pointing guns, raising machetes. I had no idea what was going on but whatever it was, it was freaking the rebels and that seemed to me like it could only be a good thing. This phase probably lasted, I don’t know, a minute? Maybe not that long. Then I heard the weirdest noise, this popping sound, and the guy who was standing on my neck hit the ground right in front of me. The place went crazy. Everybody with an AK started blasting away and people were running in every direction. I wanted to turn my head to see what the hell was going on but I couldn’t take my eyes off the kid. He’d landed facing away from me and I couldn’t really see anything wrong with him, except . . there was . . steam . . coming out . . of his head. I couldn’t see the crack in his skull because of the hair, but along this jagged line I could actually see steam, just curling out of his head. It was so strange. It was all I could think about. What the hell could make steam come out of a guy’s head? Could a bullet do that? I got so caught up in it I quit paying attention to the chaos around me for a few moments. Then some independent partition in my brain slapped me to attention. I must have heard the footsteps and selected out that input while I was focused on the steam thing, but I became instantly aware that someone was standing behind me. No that’s not right . . . Listen, I want to make this very clear. I don’t know why or how, but I knew for certain it wasn’t a person, I knew it was a thing. Some thing was standing behind me, looking at me, I could feel it. It scared the hell out of me but some reflex must have taken over because the next thing I knew I was on my side, looking up at it. I don’t even remember rolling over.

Keep your pants on, I just need a second.

Yeah, I’m ok.

Hooo boy. Alright.

Yeah, I haven’t been getting much sleep.

Anyway, it was looking down at me just like I thought it was.

I told you, it’s not a he, it’s an it.

You fucking . .

Y’know, I’ve had a bellyful of you asshole, how about you take a fucking hike?

Oh yeah? Well let me just . . .

Sure, just as soon as I see his butt going through that door.

Works for me.

Bye, Tinkerbell . .

That’s better.

I have no idea. I haven’t had any sleep and I don’t care anymore. Shit comes into my head and shoots right out my mouth.

Look, I’m trying ok?

Alright, let’s get this over with. I was laying in the dirt and it was looking down at me. Well, looking probably isn’t the right word but I was obviously the object of his attention. There’s no face, just a big hole, an opening about this big. There’s nothing in there, not a goddamn thing, it was like looking right through his head and out into space. It scared the living shit out of me, fucking literally.

That’s what I said. Listen, for half an hour, I faced maniacs with machetes and machine guns and watched them kill twelve people. I was terrified the whole time and I knew without any doubt that I was going to die. But that’s not what’s keeping me awake at night. I didn’t shit my pants until that that fucker looked at me. I was fucking paralyzed, do you understand? It was a whole new universe of fear.

It could have been an hour, seriously. They tell me it was like, ten seconds.

I tried, I couldn’t do it until he looked away.

I have no idea. It was like he reached into my head and flipped a switch. I couldn’t move anything.

Yeah, I know, it doesn’t change what I said. Just replace all the he’s with it’s. Maybe it’s because it acts like a he, I don’t know.

Right.

No, nothing.

How the hell would I know? Maybe it was a mass hallucination after all and they went right through him.

That’s right.

Yeah, he just strolled out into the courtyard and started mowing ‘em down, pop, pop, pop. I was behind him and it was like watching a guy with a weed whacker, you know? He turned his head back and forth and wherever he looked, they fell like bags of rice.

Once again, I don’t know any more than you.

I assume they know what they’re doing. If you don’t buy it, get your own doctors down here.

Look, believe what you want. I’m an engineer and it makes perfect sense to me. Your neurons heat up and you cook instantly from the inside out. Your body jerks with one massive spasm and your skull cracks open from the pressure of your suddenly expanding brain. Probably painless, but not a pretty sight.

Just because I don’t know how he did it doesn’t mean I can’t understand what what he did.

Or thirty nine, depending on who you talk to. I sure as hell didn’t do any counting.

Well, they didn’t have to be running, it was more like farthest to nearest. He just ignored the guys who stopped to shoot at him until they were all that was left. Worked too, I don’t think any of ‘em got away. He took his time but he was thorough.

Yeah, it was weird. You’d think somebody would have noticed, he was right in the middle of everything. After bodies stopped hitting the ground it got kinda quiet. I looked around and when I looked back he was gone.

Just like that.

Not really, the only people with cameras were dead or tied up waiting to be dead.

What do you think? We didn’t know when he was going to stop, you know what I mean? I thought he was going to kill everyone. After awhile you could see what he was doing, but it wasn’t until long after after he was gone that we started to feel any relief.

I don’t care, some part of me doesn’t know the difference, watching them get butchered right in front of me was sickening.

You don’t want to know. I expect to feel a lot different after I’ve had about twenty hours sleep.

I don’t want to talk about it.

I said . . ah . . fuck it, why not. Alright, here’s what I’ve been going through for the last forty hours. It’s like . . a loop that plays in my head. As soon as I close my eyes it starts all over again, but this time he doesn’t disappear when the rebels are dead. It gets real quiet for a minute and he just stands there, looking over the bodies. I’m standing by the truck watching all this and then he starts to turn towards me. I feel waves of panic slamming through my whole body and as soon as I start to look down the barrel of that fucking black hole I feel like I’m being ripped out of my skin. It’s like my body isn’t moving but my consciousness, my soul is being sucked right through his head and I know there isn’t anything on the other side, nothing. It’s like deep space without any stars or dust, just nothing, no matter, no time, no . . anything. My heart is pounding and my mind is screaming NO! NO! and then I have this sudden epiphany: He’s not done! He’s going to turn around and keep killing and killing and killing until he’s killed all of us, every goddamn one of us, every human on the planet. And here’s the best part. You’d think I’d be horrified wouldn’t you? That I’d be sick at the prospect of this, the end of the human race, but guess what, I’m not. I’m happy! My terror turns to exhilaration! All I can think of is that we’re a huge, teeming hive of filthy parasites and he’s the exterminator! He’s come to root out the infestation! He’s here to rid a crippled planetary organism of the vermin that are killing it! And all I can think of is, go for it! Thank God! Then I wake up. And you know what? I open my eyes filled with excitement and anticipation and as soon as I realize it’s only a dream all the life drains right out of me. I lay on my bunk in a pool of sweat and a wave of despair rolls over me. What do you think about that? Not what you expected to hear is it?

Sorry, Pollyanna, I lost my sophomoric idealistic zeal a long time ago. People suck.

“Humanity”? What a joke. Talk about an oxymoron, there’s nothing more vicious and brutal than a human.

Don’t give me that shit, I spent the last four days with people like that. Some of them are fucking saints, but it doesn’t matter does it? You always have good people and bad people and people who go whichever way the wind blows, but compassion doesn’t stop robbery or rape or machetes or bullets and the butchers outnumber the saints. Even if they didn’t, we live in a glorious age of access to technology and one butcher can create horror on an unspeakable scale, a hell of a lot more than one saint can prevent. Everyone else is busy watching fucking American fucking Idol.

Bullshit. Ever heard of Stanley Milgram?

Good, at least one of you didn’t waste your tuition. Ask her.

Right, not what they expected either. We’re a charming bunch aren’t we?

I know, average American citizens, fat, dumb and happy.

No, they weren’t. Hitler and Stalin and Pol Pot were nutcases who never laid a hand on anyone. It was thousands and thousands of ordinary citizens who waited in line for the chance to do that dirty work. Whether they’re paid or not, it’s volunteers who serve up horror and death to women and children without a fragment of remorse. That’s “humanity”. People just like that live next door to you right now.

Look, I’m not some wacko. I don’t want to die any more than you do, and I don’t want those doctors or nurses or god forbid those children to die. I don’t want you fuckers to die, you’re down here trying to shine a light on what’s happening in this god forsaken shithole, even if you don’t believe a word any of us has told you. But you’re fighting a losing battle.

Well, not really, I just wish he’d shown up earlier, you know? I’m glad I didn’t get separated from my head like the others, but it’s not fair that I lived and they didn’t.

Because I’m a fucking coward, that’s why. I wasn’t the one who’s been there all these months facing death and saving lives, it’s just a job, I don’t want to be here. I came for two days to replace the generators and I couldn’t wait to get my sorry ass home. There wasn’t anyone here who didn’t deserve to live more than me.

Yeah, well, fuck you.