Born for America - 2. Caretakers
- Jun 7
- 2 min read
Of course it’s an abandoned building.
Dead silence engulfed him until he heard a clatter. There were a group of people, Non distinguishable in the darkness and they beckoned him. Whispering among each other as he approached.
One spoke without introduction.
“We are the CARETAKERS. The ELITE have stolen, abused, killed, manipulated and transformed these individuals into shells of what they once were. They have ravaged their souls and protected their bodies for selfish and capital gain. The ELITES are working to control all aspects of the American people. From what they watch, read, hear, use, and ultimately their desires. A people who want for nothing because they know nothing.”
A softer voice interjected.
“As CARETAKERS, we are forced to be here, but we are building a resistance. More people must see what has happened and what will. Every day, we lose more ground with the lifestyle of convenience that is offered and those who do listen…just don’t want to rock the boat, or be targeted…or worse, disappear.”
They began retreating into an even darker tunnel. He followed.
They walked in silence for hours and then he heard the distant sound of machines. Beeping and humming, and baby cries?
A roll up freight door began opening and light flooded the group. All dressed in scrubs, hats, and masks they dispersed into the medical barrack. Rows and rows of bodies, unmoving, hooked up to machines, all with pregnant bellies. Aides moving about checking vitals and beyond the last row and window into a nursery. The baby he heard crying was carried away by an aide and moved into the nursery. When the door shut, the sound left with it. Only humming, ticks, beeps, and shuffling feet.
A body at the end had obviously just had surgery. A C-section. A man stood over her, sewing, cleaning, and rolling her back into place among the rows of other beds with still frames.
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