Scavengers

Scavengers(Luna) A white van roamed the deserted prairie road, leaving dust clouds behind. The night was tense, the howling of the coyotes disturbing the silence. The seven men in the van listened to Led Zeppelin, smoking, five of them laying in the back on colourful blankets. The one driving was the oldest; a black goatee covered his face, his dark skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. A spark glinted in his blue eyes as he focused on the road, not engaging in the conversation of the others.
‘I’m telling you, Hosea’ said one of them, cleaning a shotgun with great care. ‘Them spiders have teeth. Fangs, if you wanna be fancy’
Another one, laying on his back on a blanket, started laughing hysterically. He was the youngest of them all.
‘Dexter, my friend’ he laughed ‘You are the dumbest fella I’ve ever met. And I’ve seen some difficult cases’
‘Oh, shut your dirty mouth, boy’ the other answered, kicking towards Hosea.
‘How could you possibly think that spiders have teeth?’ a third one asked. He had a buzz cut and a golden eyebrow piercing.
‘How else do you explain them bastards biting you?’ Dexter snapped back.
‘He has a good point, I’m afraid’ a white haired man laughed in the passenger seat, not turning back. At this point the car slowed down until eventually they stopped. The men were still laughing at Dexter when the driver spoke.
‘We focus now’ and everyone was silent suddenly, getting to work. The men took semi automatic rifles out of cases already prepared in rows at the back. The driver stepped out of the car, loading his gun. He didn’t need anything else. He lit a cigarette and waited for the others to be ready while gazing off into the prairie, listening to the sound of the coyotes. The other man from the passenger seat joined him.
‘Are you sure, boss?’ he asked.
‘Yes’ the other answered. They looked up at the sky; a pair of vultures circled around above them.
‘My people say that they come to the smell of death’ the white haired man said, pointing at the birds.
‘Your people are surely right, then’ the other answered, dropping his cigarette. The five other men were ready so he turned towards them. ‘Whoever we find in there, we kill, without any hesitation. I chose you because you are my best men. I expect you to act accordingly.’
The men nodded tensely, looking around them, and then one of them, Dexter, spoke quietly.
‘I heard there might be a baby, sir’ he said, almost whispering. The leader looked at him now, his blue eyes piercing through the other.
‘Would that change anything?’ he asked.
‘Well, you know, sir, I have a baby as well, and…’
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the prairie. The coyotes fell silent and the body of Dexter thudded on the ground. The leader lowered his gun and the men froze, they stood there like statues carved from moonlight. A pool of blood grew under Dexter’s head, a hole gaped between his empty eyes.
‘What are you waiting for?’ the leader said calmly. ‘Put his body in the van.’
Two of the men moved, lifting the body, and put it in the back of the car. No one said anything; they followed the two older men, like shadows, in the chilly night.
‘Don’t do things you wouldn’t have done back then’ the white haired man said gently, looking at the road. ‘Before all that happened’ they didn’t say anything for a while and only the men’s footsteps disturbed the silence.
‘We are old now’ the other answered. ‘What we had back then is long gone’
They all stopped in front of a small house. The sound of a baby crying could be heard from inside and the men didn’t react.
‘You know what you have to do. Hosea, you go for the kid. He’s in the last room to the left’ that’s all he said before shooting the lock on the door.
The house was silent when the men barged in; the lobby opened into a long hallway, with walls painted light beige. The men started opening doors, looking behind curtains; five of them reached the third door and Hosea could hear the scream of a woman from inside.
‘Where is Thomas Morgan?’ the sound of the white haired man could be heard. There was no response; a blunt thud was followed by the groan of the woman.
‘Please…’ Hosea heard the woman’s voice. ‘Please just don’t hurt my baby…’
‘Where is your father, Serena?’ the leader’s low voice was almost unintelligible amidst the cries of the woman. There was no answer for a second. The baby cried harder in the last room and Hosea suddenly remembered his duty. He started to make his way towards the last door.
‘I don’t know where he is’ the woman answered finally, her voice clear and stable now.
A moment of silence followed, and then a gunshot; Hosea reached the final door and stood in front of it, listening to the cries of the baby. His gun trembled in his hands as he opened the door. The smell of lavender welcomed him, and something else that seemed familiar from a time long gone. A cradle stood in the back of the room; the wall behind it was painted with flowers and clouds, and children’s toys were scattered on the ground. Hosae carefully stepped over a teddy bear and walked to the crib; the baby was still crying, his blanket wrapped around his leg. Hosae leaned closer and held his gun under one arm to fix the blanket; as it was back in its place the baby stopped crying and looked at Hosae with interested eyes. The man reached out and the baby grabbed his finger.
‘Please, fall asleep…’ Hosae whispered, looking back behind him. The men were talking in the other room. Suddenly he remembered something and turned back to the baby.

Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor
duérmete pedazo de mi corazón.
Esta niña linda que nació de día
quiere que la lleven a la dulcería.

An old lullaby, one that his mother used to sing. His voice was hoarse, but the baby closed his eyes for a second before the door opened behind them. The leader stepped in, the voice of the other men seemed distorted behind his back.
‘What are you doing, Hosae?’ he asked, walking over to them. He looked at the baby, who started crying again.
‘Nothing. Sorry’ Hosae answered, letting go of the baby’s hand.
‘What are you waiting for then?’ the man leaned close, Hosae could smell the scent of opium and metal. It felt familiar, and somehow inhumane. ‘Shoot it’
Hosae didn’t move, his hands trembling over the crib. He let out a shaky breath.
‘Boss…’ he stopped, feeling the hand of the man on his shoulder.
‘I like you, Hosae’ he whispered. ‘You’re not like Dexter, or those other scum out there.’ he stopped, but the other didn’t respond. He reached out to stroke the baby’s face. ‘Do you love your sister, Hosae?’ he asked finally, reaching for the other man's face and forcing him to look in his eyes. Hosae could feel, ashamed, a tear running down his face. ‘How about your father? Do you love them?’ Hosae shook under these words, nodding. The older man smiled. ‘That’s very good. I always said family is the most important thing in the world. This is exactly why I’m keeping them safe until you’re done working for me, right?’’ he looked at the baby now. ‘You wouldn’t want them to be hurt, I am sure.’
The other men were already out of the house, smoking cigarettes when the baby stopped crying. The house was silent, only the sound of the coyotes broke the peace of the early spring night. No one spoke for a while; their leader stepped out along with Hosae. He didn’t look at the other men; he was staring up at the sky, at the pair of vultures.
Later, back in the car the men were sharing cans of beers, some of them sleeping on blankets. The leader was alone in the front, driving, and the white haired man rested next to Hosae. They were silent, smoking a cigarette.
‘This is not right…’ Hosae whispered suddenly. No one else could hear him apart from the old man who turned to him now.
‘What did you say, son?’
‘This is not right.’ he repeated. The car drove past a deserted gas station, seemingly out of order. The other men laughed at something, and then there was silence again.
‘Nothing is right in this world, son’ replied the old man.
‘No’ Hosae looked at him now with a strange fever in his eyes. ‘We will be punished for this.’ the old man took a deep breath and goosebumps crawled up on his spine, maybe from the chilly prairie air.
They didn’t say anything after that, but neither of them slept on that fateful night. Hosae stared at the stars, and wondered whether he was still human, or some kind of animal, a scavenger hoarding corpses in its soul.