Indian Amma 1

Once Washington DC fell, he sent a contingent force, led by Blight, to catch the refugees. As planned, millions of people flocked south to try and escape his invasion, both citizens of the US and the Latin countries. They were funneled through the narrowing passage of Central America, the crowds condensing further and further as Dominion’s forces advanced behind them. It was rather like emptying a tube of toothpaste.Roads and highways were flooded with people moving on foot, carrying their few meager possessions on their backs or having nothing at all. There were no cars on the road, either because they ran out of fuel or because they’d just get wrecked by the people fighting over them. The summer sun bared down on the poor wretches, with food and fresh water worth their weight in gold. Most people had to make do with whatever they could find, from drinking dirty water and animal piss out of mud puddles to eating roadkill and rotten food from garbage bins and compost piles. The roads. His wife and beautiful infant daughter left him and moved back east. His wife can be mentally unstable sometimes and he worries about the baby. I’ve seen him cry silently about it. He spends long hours on the phone with her, staring sadly off into the distance while her angry voice pours out of the receiver and into his battered brain. I keep to myself while he has these conversations. She knows I am here, but there is no need to amplify my presence. I do my best to disappear. Eventually, he will hang up, walk silently outside where he will sit on a log and let his head hang heavy in his hands. Times like that, I know well enough to not go right out. He doesn’t need me, not like that, he never has. I watch him from the kitchen window and his sadness travels through the dusk and up to me. It’s cold outside, the ground is frozen beneath his feet and all the trees have dropped their leaves. There is snow in the mountains and winter in the air but he does not shiver. Eventually I will.
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