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They were led by one of the Greys, waving its arms and
directing them toward the runway and the ramp up into the ship. The man in
black stood off to one side, watching Wendy's reaction as they slowly walked
out in single file, most of them with their heads down as they followed
directions.
The first was an older man, in a ragged brown coat. His hair
was thin, bald in places and he had a long, unkempt beard. His shirt and jeans
were dirty and old as well, with several makeshift patches that had been badly
sown into place. The smell that drifted off of him was one of urine and
alcohol. Wendy guessed he had been homeless for quite some time. Until someone
had offered him a place to go, likely without details on where or under who's
care that would be.
The 'medical equipment' being delivered and picked up was
human beings. The idea sent shivers through her, and it took a huge amount of
control to not let it show as they filed past. They had orders to shoot any
that made a run for it. These people, most of them every bit as disheveled as
the first, had agreed to something without any idea what they were in for,
probably figuring they couldn't do worse than the lives they were already
living.
Then a bed rolled out of the hanger, white, with bars on the
sides to ensure the occupant didn't fall out. A metal bar rose up above it, holding
a bag of liquid, connected to the body underneath by a plastic tube. One of the
Greys walked along behind it, holding up one hand and pushing it along without
actually touching it.
The occupant looked like an old woman at a distance, but as
they approached and passed, Wendy could see she was actually much younger,
maybe in her 40's. She had the thin hair and gaunt appearance of a woman twice
her age, though. Eyes sunken, devoid of life or hope. The victim of some
horrible wasting illness or other.
These were the terminally ill and unwanted, being bartered
to an alien intelligence for experiments in exchange for God only knew what.
Wendy couldn't hold back the next shiver that ran through her body , and it had
not escaped the notice of the man in black. She could feel his eyes boring into
her even through his dark glasses.
She risked a glance over at him and he just smirked and
nodded back towards the hanger.
Stepping out of the shadows in line with the rest was a
little girl, no older than eight years old. Blonde hair falling behind her as
she walked, wearing a nightdress and still carrying a teddy bear in the crook
of her arm. She could have been just grabbed out of her bedroom. Her head turned left and right as she followed
the older man in front of her, eyes wide with fear, squeezing her bear so tight
it wouldn't have been surprising if its head had popped off.
For the life of her, Wendy couldn't imagine why they were
handing over such a little girl. She couldn't see anything at all wrong with
her. Just the fear and confusion behind wide blue eyes. She was even barefoot.
Wendy felt her chest tighten up and she had to fight the
instinct to grab the girl and run for it herself. To even make a move though
would probably get herself shot as well as the girl.
Then the girl was gone to the sound of running feet hitting
the blacktop. The man in black scowled at Wendy and took off across the runway,
pulling out a handgun from under his coat. It had been Barclay that had broken,
sweeping the girl into his arms and charging off into the darkness. Wendy heard
the gunshots, both the man in black and Captain Talassy had squared up and were
taking shots into the darkness.
"Go on! Get after him. BRING THEM BACK!" The man
in black barked at the rest of the soldiers standing there as he reloaded his
gun. Captain Talassy waved, and the line moved as a unit, drawing weapons and
running off into the darkness, Wendy among them, as ordered, despite the knot
in her stomach.
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