The Drones: A Short Story

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A whirring sound came from overhead, encompassing the city, shrouding it in fear and apprehension. Grunts and groans, slurred and incomprehensible, emanated from piles of rubbish that littered the roads like mountains of devastation. Buildings, grey, dull and lifeless, lay still. A subtle wind caressed their faces, the breeze’s chorus a tune of sadness, whistling through the empty roads and alleyways. A faint rustle was lost in the dismal song, heartbroken and forlorn. Hidden in a dark, overshadowed alleyway, the wistful mountains shifted, groggily waking. Wrappers and squashed cans made way for a bright little face, silent and afraid in the heap. A frightened wail escaped the baby’s mouth, his eyes filled with wonder. His eyes glowed an unnatural electric blue, more startling than a bolt of thunder. “Shhh… Be quiet, or else the Drones will find us!” came another voice in the heap, its owner unseen, concealed in the remains of a doomed civilisation.…show more content…
The boys were concealed in the rubbish. Reluctantly, the Drones turned their backs to the mound and faced the street. The elder of the two sighed with relief. Tears welled up in the eyes of young Jack as an illuminated screen popped up before him, words written in holograms that were meaningless to him. “7 a.m. 26th of April, 2397. Happy 1st birthday, Master Jack.” The drones turned around, their red lasers searing Jack’s skin, as though fire was racing up his arm. They approached, their mechanical eyes gleaming with menace, a syringe labelled “The Cure” in their robotic arms. With a scream, Jack was injected with the liquid. His eyes dulled a stormy grey, and the life was sucked out of his body. His flesh was reduced to bone. “You are cured from all of you ailments,” said the drones as they turned away. They had left the alleyway, when the older boy shouted valiantly “You are not the cure. You are not the saviour. You are the disease!” They turned and approached him, syringe in
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