Sunday, October 11, 2015

FINDERS KEEPERS

FINDERS KEEPERS
                July 27th, 2013


                Paul here. I’m not trying to write a book, so don’t expect daily notifications. We are here, we are alive. There are… more of us, to put it lightly. It’s not been the easiest transition, but we’re fed, and we learn about our mission as we go.. I’m getting way ahead of myself. Let me explain.
                I believe the last I spoke about was our position, the hospital. Still there… but it’s not ours, never was. I’ll get in to that in a minute. I also talked about the ARM program that the ASMZ introduced. The radio (when we had a good signal) explained that global vaccinations were mandated and being carried out. Something about a RECEPTION program, where recipients were able to pay for everything, and given benefits it they agreed to the terms. The scariest thing I heard about was the new walls they’re talking about erecting around every major city in America. Not sure coming here was the best choice after all. But that will all come to pass. Right now, I need to tell you about our gains, and our loss.
                There was, in fact, things in the woods outside the hospital. Shipley kept noticing things, randomly missing from our gear. Tree John walked back to the car to retrieve a knife he left under the seat, and came back to say that that too, was gone. So our car was gone, our gear was missing, and then there was the spooky witchdoctor, voodoo shit we found in the basement of the hospital. It all came to a head. What ended up was good, but the trial to get there was awful, and tragic.
                A month ago, our supplies were good. Despite things turning up missing here and there… things were safe. We knew at some point we had to continue our trek to Southaven, but the security of this creepy hospital served itself. We started, like I said before, to notice things in the woods. Voices started to call from the trees at night. Just…. Whoops and tribal screams. Very unnerving. Then, one morning, Tree John called us to look out a top floor window with him. There were dozens of tall stakes surrounding our safe house. Mounted on the stakes, and plunged entirely through, were bodies. Sacks with happy faces painted on them were tied on their heads, not to reveal their horrid and bloody faces. Then, our room was rushed.
                Several black men, with white skulls painted on their faces and white powder smeared over their genitals and buttocks, grabbed us and drug us down three flights of stairs by our hair. The smell of the tribal men was awful. I kicked and screamed, trying to get away from our assailants but was unsuccessful. We were drug outside in the early morning. Our faces were held down to the dirt with several feet preventing us from getting up. Even more naked men surrounded us and held our arms toward the ground. They were mumbling a foreign language, and I couldn’t understand. Shipley fought the hardest. Yelling and cussing. Yet he too, was unable to break free. Tree John was the calmest of us all. Watching and doing what he was told. We gave in to their brute strength that took us all by surprise.
                A female voice came from beyond the men. I couldn’t see, but the voice continued. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.” A group of men drug a large bag next to my face. One of the tribal men walked toward me with a knife and held it to my face, backed away, then sliced the large bag open revealing all the things that had gone missing over the last several weeks.
                “Finders Keepers.” The female voice spoke. Then she spoke again, in a foreign tongue. My head was grabbed and turned toward Tree John and Shipley. Shipley was drug backwards by his feet, forced to sit up and place his hands in his lap, where his wrists were tight tightly with a rope. Shipley glared at me. My face was crammed in the dirt, and a million things were going on in my mind, but at that moment I was forced to think about one thing. And one thing only.
                Tree John and I were also sat up, on our knees with our hands tied together at knife point. The tribal men began to part, opening a walk way for who we were about to meet. A very beautiful, and strong woman walked through painted, naked men. She squatted next to me. I could smell her skin over any scent of the men, or the trees. She held a small pocket knife. My hair was clenched and my head was pulled back. She ripped open my shirt and began feeling over my chest, and then my back. In their language, she motioned for two other men to do the same to Shipley and Tree John.
                We were being searched. “Do you know why you’re here?” The lady questioned. A few zombie moans from the woods belted out. She quickly called out two men to go handle the interruption. “You came here to die.” She spoke to me again. “NO, NO.” I told her. “We are going to Southaven. We aren’t even from America! We’re tired of the humming from the sky! Please, please let us go and we’ll never come back. We’ll never tell anyone you’re here!” I begged and begged. More than I ever had before. I was embarrassed and ashamed.
                The lady took my hands and cut my ropes. I was free, but forced to sit still. She stepped over to Tree John and asked him the same. “Do you know why you’re here?” “FUCK YOU…BITCH.” Tree John has no filter, and it scared me. “Hurry up and kill me you pieces of shit!” She smiled, and looked at me. She sucked a bit of air thru her teeth and stood up. She walked over to one of the bodies rammed through with a stake. She called out to one of her tribal men to come to her. He picked her up and held her high enough to pull the sack off the face of the deceased. “Do you know who this is?” She asked. The tribal man placed her down, and she swatted his ass as he got back into formation. “This is a member of the ASMZ. In fact, all 30 bodies you see around here, are members of the ASMZ.” She then untied the belt of the dead, dropping the pants to its ankles. “You see this?” She pointed to his calf where I noticed a blue, upside down triangle tattooed on its flesh. “This guy is ASMZ, well…. Used to be ASMZ. Then he turned zombie, and now he’s dead. Now, take your pants off.” I looked around and realized it was go time. She wanted me naked. Like….NOW. I got up and shed the rest of my clothes.
                She walked to Tree John, released his ropes and commanded him to do the same. Reluctantly, Tree John complied. Finally, she walked to Shipley. Before Shipley could take his pants off, I notice urine escaping slowly down his leg. He bent over to remove his shoes, and the lady stabbed him in the back of the neck. His body dropped like a load of wet laundry. I ran, naked across the openness of the group and held him. “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! YOU ANIMALS!” The lady quickly sliced my face with her pocket knife and demanded that I remove his pants. His urine was everywhere, and the blood coming from the back of his head soaked my skin and the hair on my arms. “Hurry up you dummy, he’s gonna turn!” The lady prodded. I took his pants down and to my astonishment, I saw the same, blue upside down triangle tattooed on his calf.
                “Now, come naked, because you stink. We’ll clean you and give you new clothes but you must be quiet and not be pissed at me later.” She spoke to me, but I was too confused. Tree John was speechless. “Get a hold of yourself and don’t forget what I’m about to tell you.” I stood there, naked with Tree John and tried to listen as closely as I could. “The Reds will help you both until later, where you’ll meet the rest of our team. You don’t know them, but you will.” She shewed the tribal men out of the way and called for the Reds. “Reds. Come please!” Two rather large men with prominent red beards came from behind the other men. They stood there and looked at us and our naked bodies. “I don’t know.” One Red said to the other. “Should we trade?” “Yes, lets trade.” They swapped places, pulled back and punched us directly in the jaw.

                We both fell, and I was barely conscious. Tree John was completely asleep. I remember the trees above. The sun trying desperately to create a day through the early morning. Just before passing out, I felt her body mount mine as I lay on the dirt floor in front of the hospital. She was warm. She put her face close to mine, looked directly into my eyes and said, “I’m Luna. Leader of the Gypsy Group.”

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