Not Yet Activated

 I move through the forest, gliding through the trees and shrubs like a ghost. It is effortless to move this way, but it hasn’t always been. In a ravine ahead I see bushes weighed down with gooseberries. I spend a few minutes picking each bush clean and place the berries in a small leather bag. The shadows are growing longer. It’s time to go back.

  The barely noticeable deer trail will lead back to the camp. I begin to glide again, moving quickly but making no sound. The sun peeks through the foliage, disappearing and reappearing as I weave through the trees.

  The stillness of the forest is broken. A metallic clang on the path ahead echoes through the woods like a gunshot. Creaking and groaning noises fill the forest as bushes snap and small trees fall. The noise grows louder. 

  I haven’t made a sound. How could it have found me? I scamper to the right side of the small path and find a huge stone lying there. I duck behind it and peer out of a small crack in the rock. The creaking and groaning grows louder still. 

  I can see it now. I have seen it a few times before. It is jet black, about the size of a small bus. It moves along the deer trail in the same direction I had originally come. Its long legs snap through small trees and undergrowth as easily as if they were toothpicks. 

  The metallic frame is mostly closed in, but on the sides there are two openings which are covered in a metal screen. These “ears” of the machine are known to be a marvel of technology, even in this world where technology rules all. It has been said that the ears can hear a whisper 20 miles away. 

  While some still scoff at this idea, I don’t doubt it. At my last camp there were some who were careless. Because of them we were discovered. Everyone was sent fleeing in every direction like insects when a rock gets turned over. I haven’t seen anyone from my old camp since that day.  

  On the day my old camp was destroyed, I followed the stream into the canyon walls until stumbling upon the small settlement where I now live. Eric greeted me soundlessly. We spoke that night, whispering as the wind rustled in the treetops. He told me that we may be the last group of natural humans on planet earth. 

  Outside the camp, the few remaining in our species have their hardware implanted and activated. They move as one with the machines, thinking as they do. Their wills are intertwined with circuits and wires. I feel the scar on the back of my skull sometimes, an ugly reminder that I wasn’t always on the run fleeing to the remote areas of what used to be known as the western United States. 

  The hardware was implanted when I was a child, but I don’t remember it being put in. In those early days I do remember hearing a child screaming in the night, my parent’s faces covered with worry and fear. A baby born in this time of war between man and machine. He also had a scar on the back of his skull. I was no longer only a child, I was also a sister. 

  The terrible night came soon after that. We woke up to explosions rocking our apartment. Glass was shattering, distant screams and sirens could be heard in the streets down below. My parents gathered us up and brought us out of the building just before it collapsed. We ran along the street with hordes of screaming people. 

  My mother had a tight grip on my hand, but then she was ripped away from me. I was lost in the swirling crowd. I have been on my own as I have grown older, traveling from camp to camp and moving further into the wilderness and away from the terrors of the city. My name is Miriam. I am a vagrant with no home, no family. A part of a remnant of humanity which is free to use their own minds, hardware intact but not yet activated. 

–

 The gleaner is gone now. I haven’t heard the tell-tale snapping and cracking for several minutes. My noiseless glide through the forest begins again. I don’t go straight back to the camp, but instead take a winding route, crossing over the stream several times.

  Descending from rock to rock on the steep, narrow path on the canyon wall, I can see the top of the cottonwood tree which is at the center of the small settlement. It stands alone in the clearing, surrounded by a grassy expanse which leads to the stream which cuts through the canyon on the other side. 

  Though it is growing dark I can also see the cabins that are positioned around the tree. The walls are made of pine logs, covered at the top with a tangled mess of dead juniper branches. The cabins must not look unnatural to the eyes overhead. 

 Eva greets me at the entrance to our little village, her gray hair rustles in the breeze as she signs her thanks for the provisions in my little bag. She is the oldest in the camp, but she is also the strongest in her own way, unyielding to the changing times around her. Eric stands beside her, I can tell that he is worried that I was out so late. 

  Eric has always been like a father to me. Ever since the day that I first found my way into the canyon he has been willing to accept me and to teach me about how to survive. I was only a scared little girl then, but now as I have become older I have grown in my confidence. Of course, I’m careful. But not afraid, at least, not most of the time. 

 As I have grown older Eric often asks for my opinion when he makes decisions for the good of the camp, but he does not always take me into his confidence. About a week ago he left the camp for three entire days. Where did he go? Where did he sleep? I could see these questions written on the faces of everyone. But we did not speak of it. Not even in a whisper. Eric has been a good leader. 

  I go to my little cabin and I lie down on a mat as the canyon darkens. The evening meal is brought to me in a small wooden dish. It contains berries, nuts, roots and a small portion of dried meat. It is enough. 

  In the night I hear the wind rustling in the leaves of the cottonwood tree. I find Eric sitting alone by the stream. I sit beside him and wait. As the wind picks up I begin to whisper.

  “I saw a gleaner today. It must have been following me while I gathered in the forest. Eric, it was almost inside the walls of the canyon. I’ve never seen one this close to camp before.”

  Eric listens as he looks out at the stream. When the wind begins again he leans toward me and whispers his response.

  “I’ve been traveling for miles, searching for a place to relocate. Strongholds are all around us. We are probably in the last place that is undetectable, and it will soon be discovered by them.” 

  “So what do we do?” I ask. I don’t like his tone. It seems resigned. He is our leader. If he doesn’t have a plan we have no hope. 

  He sighs. “It’s time that we consider speaking with them. We can’t live like this forever. “

  “Giving ourselves up? Are you crazy?” My voice is now slightly more than a whisper. “What happened to surviving? You said we could make a stand if we wait longer.” 

 Eric says nothing in response, he stares out at the water.

  I go on. “We need to have a meeting. Everyone needs to know what we are up against. We need to decide what we will do. Together.”

  The wind has died down again. We sit in silence for a few minutes. I can’t believe I am speaking to him like this, but what is he thinking? We are quite possibly the last unactivated humans on the planet. We must survive. We must resist at all costs.

  Eric finally looks at me. “You’re right. We will have a meeting tomorrow night if the conditions are good.” 

  The hours creep by in the quiet stillness of the night. I think about waking Eva. Maybe she could speak with Eric. 

  In the morning the camp is already bustling. Some have already left to hunt while others are washing clothes in the stream. Eva is working in the storehouse, preparing food for the day ahead. Where is Eric? I check his cabin and find that the door is open. Maybe he left earlier to hunt.

  I join Eva in the storehouse to help her with her work. She pauses as I enter the doorway but then continues, laying out small strips of meat on a screen as she cuts them. Her wrinkled face is furrowed as she concentrates. My hands become slimy and red, covered with blood. We place the frames in a sunny spot at the edge of the camp, propping them up on rocks. 

 She gestures for me to follow her as we walk along the edge of the stream, farther away from the camp. We cross the stream on a fallen log and she leads me to a place where the water runs straight toward the canyon wall leaving a small peninsula. A bush is at the furthest point of this area and its branches hover above the water.

Behind the bush there is a huge crack in the canyon wall a little less than two feet wide. Water runs out of the bottom of the crack over the roots of the bush and into the stream, making a trickling sound as it drips over the edge. Eva crouches down beside the stream in a place where we are out of view of the camp. She leans towards me and whispers.

  “Eric has been acting strange lately. I’m worried that he –” Her voice trails off as the trickling waterfall covers it. “We may need to make other plans.”

  “I spoke with Eric last night. He wants to hold a meeting after the evening meal. We could wait until after then.”

  Eva replies, “Yes, we will give him a chance to speak for himself. But if he doesn’t answer well then we need to come up with a solution on our own.” She turns and looks at me with an intense gaze. “ You need to be brave, Miriam. It will be hard to confront him.”

  She doesn’t know that I have already confronted him. His answer to me last night definitely wasn’t what she would want to hear. But if I reveal this it may tear the camp apart. We would lose the trust that we have worked so hard to build in the last several years. No one is willing to give themselves up willingly. Stubbornness and rebellion course through our veins. It unites us and links us together. Eric will have to answer tonight, but I will not speak for him. If he had turned me away on that day that I came wandering into camp I would surely be caught by now. I would be activated. 

  The day creeps by slower than the night. It is evening now. Most have returned from hunting and foraging, Eva receives their findings with enthusiasm no matter how meager they are. But where is Eric? I bring the knives from the storehouse to the stream and kneel down to wash them. 

 I hear a sharp crack at the edge of the forest. I stand, straining my eyes to see into the shadows of the trees. Then I see them. Three, maybe four gleaners are crawling at the edge of the forest, heading towards me, toward the camp. I quickly turn back to the camp and something immediately catches my eye beyond it on the other side of the clearing. 

  A large tree is falling. In the distance I can see more shadows emerging from the forest on the other side of the clearing. We are surrounded. The only way out is the path up the rock wall, but surely we cannot all make it up in time. 

  I begin to run back toward the camp. I haven’t spoken one word above a whisper in years. Now that it is time to warn the others my throat feels dry and constricted. My feet begin to move faster, pounding the sandy soil beneath me. I see the gleaners beyond continue their movement out of the forest, they are almost in the clearing now. A strength fills me as I continue to gain speed. 

“RUN!”

  My voice is unrecognizable to me as it pours out of my mouth and seems to shake the camp with its power. Eva comes out of the storehouse and begins running towards me. Some of the others come rushing out of their cabins and I see their eyes grow wide as the gleaners move in on both sides. They have emerged fully from the woods beyond. There are eight in total, their jet black frames moving at a steady pace, each with one red eye focused toward us as they close the gap in the clearing.

  Everyone is frozen for a moment. Some remember the little path up the canyon wall and begin to run toward it. Over the top of the canyon I see something flying low with lights shining underneath. It moves with great speed as it lowers itself into the walls. There is a streak of light and a deafening roar makes us all fall to the ground. The cottonwood tree explodes. Several of the cabins instantly catch fire with flames licking up the sides.

  The helicopter hovers over us as we scatter. Those that were headed toward the path on the canyon wall are cut off by a gleaner. Eva and I are running toward the little peninsula where we spoke yesterday. We scramble over the fallen log and Eva points to the crack in the canyon wall. 

“GO!” she shrieks. 

 I make a quick glance around us. A gleaner moves toward our location, its red eye pointing at us. A light from the helicopter shines down, spotlighting our location as if we are on stage. I squeeze myself into the crack in the canyon wall, straining as I move forward. The walls press against me so tightly that I cannot take a full breath. I can hear Eva scrambling in behind me. A blinding red light beams into the crevice, illuminating our bodies as we push further into the space ahead. 

 Eva screams. I look back and see her convulsing figure, her eyes looking at me in desperation. Then she stops struggling. A white light shines from behind her eyes as she looks toward me with a blank expression. She begins to move out in the same direction we came. I grab her arm but she pushes me away with seemingly supernatural strength. I try again to pull her deeper into the cavern but this time her hand reaches for my throat. She tightens her grip as I try to peel her fingers off of my neck. She pulls me closer to her, closer to the opening. The blank expression still covers her face. The white light from behind her eyes illuminates the walls.

“Eva!” I croak. “Don’t do this!”

  The light shining from behind her eyes seems to flicker. A hint of recognition washes over her face. Her grip loosens just enough for me to pull her hand away. I begin to push my way deeper, still looking back. The light behind her eyes intensifies and she screams again.

  I keep straining, pushing my way deeper into the crevice. The floor begins to rise higher. Sharp rocks cut into my legs. I feel warm blood running down to my feet which slip on the wet, cutting edges of the uneven surface below. Every once in a while I smell smoke from the burning camp which wafts its way into the walls. 

  After almost an hour of struggling forward, the crevice opens up a bit. Cold water continually runs over my feet as I move up a small, trickling stream toward its source. I see a faint illumination of the darkening sky above as I make my way further upwards, moving from rock to rock in the blackness below. 

  I can see the sky not only above me, but also ahead. Soon I am in the open air, lying face down on the ground panting for breath. The helicopter is still hovering in the distance. Tears stream down my face as I breathe with sharp, uneven breaths, my body shaking from shock and exhaustion. 

  After a few minutes I struggle to my feet. Pain shoots through my legs as I put weight through them, moving toward a stretch of forest ahead of me. I begin to walk, limping at first but then gaining speed. The branches of the trees hang over me like a thick blanket. The night breeze pushes me onwards as I begin to glide through the forest, making my way over logs and through bushes. Confidence begins to flow through me as my legs grow stronger with each quiet stride. 

  There must be others out in this wilderness. There must be more who will stand up to the machines instead of cowering and betraying as Eric did. I am a survivor. My hardware is intact but I am not yet activated. I will resist. I won’t give in without a fight.