Canaan

By:N

Stretching across a long since dead patch of grass was a line. It wasn’t very long these days, the harvest shorter and shorter with each passing year. The time it took for one of them to grow was many years, almost two decades, and because of this there may be an influx of output or a drought of meat in the outside world. They stood in their line like good animals, never moving unless prodded and eating only what was thrown in front of them. Since birth their eyes held nothing more than darkness.

    “They look docile. Nothing like I remember them from my first years working here. They used to be strong, their wills indomitable, and yet look at this lot. Not a light in one eye. Takes the fun out of the job, before we’d have to hunt them and bring em down, now these big processing plants push’em out like nuts and bolts.” It talked with slurred speech, but it was better than it’s ancestors. When they first arrived there was little communication, but now they were starting to get better at speaking as the generations progressed.

“Well the easier the better. There hasn’t been an incident here in years. I’m just doing this while I go to the academy and learn to fly. I don’t care much for this ‘career’ you like to go on about.” The one standing next to the first speaker responded. They were above the line, a walkway for the workers to use and watch over the animals. There used to be hundreds of them walking these platforms, but now that the animals weren’t as reckless they were years ago, they loosened the noose, and now only two guards were in charge of thousands of these things.

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    Names were a luxury for those in control, for those that had a future. A number was given to the ones beneath the names. Some couldn’t even remember their number, it had been so long since anyone talked. Talking was hard, it took time and effort to recall the way to speak. Many had forgotten all together and just made noises when they expressed anything.

    2504912 was just living it’s life, standing in the line as was ordered. It was plump, a good haul for the harvest, it would feed a family of twenty for a month once processed. Each step was labored, it no longer had muscles to move it’s giant body, and it was good thing it only had to take a step every once in awhile, lest it have a heart attack while getting to the final stage. It would soil itself, in and out, and ruin the meat for everyone.

    Behind it was another, a lean one that had the natural hormones to turn all food into muscle instead of fat. It’s metabolism was a bad thing for the rulers, but for it this was an advantage. It’s parent had told it at a young age that it should stay strong, and wait for it’s time. There was a difference between it and the one in front of it: it had the spark in it’s eyes. The one that lived in it’s ancestors.

    “Hey Twelve…” It whispered, sticking to the last two numbers in the serial code for the animal in front of it. Even if it was stronger than the others, it was still hard to say all those numbers.

    “Wha…” It barely responded, heavy breathing following it’s one-syllable word.

    “I’m getting out, and… We’ve been together all these years. Come with me.” It whispered, louder this time and sounding hurried. It was desperate to leave.

    “N-No… This… Has food. Nice life.” It tried to say back, but it took it a full minute to say only those words. It was clear it was too far gone.

    “Death awaits you here! This is not safe, this is a slaughterhouse!” It yelled, and pranced up and over the rails that kept them all in a line. It’s powerful two legs hopped the railing and it pushed through the crowds of obese animals. It couldn’t remember what it’s parents had called themselves, but that didn’t matter. The guards weren’t even looking as it sprinted across the open field next to the containment center. Their large round black eyes focused on each other and they continued their conversation. Their gray skin was easy to see in the sunlight.

    Her pale thighs kept her going, her bare feet and naked body feeling the real earth for the first time in her life. She was shaky, legs not used to this kind of running, having room to move was a new concept to her. She remembered what she was called: Canaan. Once into the woods, she looked back at the lines of animals. While staring at number 12, she saw him look back, and the only look in his eyes was acceptance. Death was all he was prepared to face. That was what he was trained to do, and everything new scared him. It was better for him to die. As she turned to run away into the wilderness, hoping to find others of her kind, she remembered finally what they were called. Humans.