THE LAST MEAL

When they hear a truck stop in front of their house all are as silent as a thought. It is not the sound of the door being smashed in but the flash of sunlight that shocks their senses. They had boarded up all the windows and have lived in total darkness for the last month and a half. The soldiers line them up against the wall. The boy holds a small potato in his hand, which the Captain sees.

“What is this”? The Captain demands as he twists the little boy’s hand until the potato drops to the floor. The Captain stomps on the potato and then commands his men to drag the family outside.

"Where is the food? You know you have not met your quota. This food you fill your bellies with belongs to the people. Where is the food?" the officer screams.

Before Balkie can speak a word the Captain fires his pistol into his face. As he falls to the ground he hears his wife and children scream. His heart breaks from failing to protect what he loves; yet as his last breath slowly takes away his life he feels relief in knowing that he is escaping this nightmare.

It has been a month since Balkie’s wife has lost her mind, but the motherly instinct makes her hold her children close. The Captain from Moscow looks at one of the soldiers and nods toward the woman. The soldier steps forward and smashes her in the head with the butt of his rifle, there was no need for questions, this was a team that is very experienced in brutalizing the helpless. She falls down in a puddle of her husband's blood. It takes a few seconds but she manages to struggle to her hands and knees. She looks up to see the Captain holding a gun to her three-year-olds head. For the first time in a month her thoughts are perfectly clear. She prayed for her mind to go back to the empty void that had protected her, but this is far too horrible to be blocked out.

"Where is the food?" Tell me woman, or I will kill her right now." The Captain shoves the barrel of his revolver against the little girl's head making her scream in agony.

"No, no, please I beg you not to hurt my baby. I will show where the food is hidden." She struggles to get up as one of the soldiers grabs her arm.

The Captain, and one of his men, then usher her inside the cottage. When she pulls up a
loose board in the floor and reaches inside the Captain kicks her out of the way. He pulls
out the sack that holds a couple pounds of potatos at best, and then pushes the woman back
outside.

Once outside she looks at her children. The soldiers seem to no longer exist. It is as if they are mere phantoms moving in slow motion on the outskirts of her world. She remembers giving birth to them both and the laughter and good times of days so long ago. Her last look at their faces, twisted by the terror that grips them is more painful than the bullet that now is ripping through her brain.

The two little children clutch each other tight and scream. They can't look away from their parents who now lay in the snow on what looks like bright red blankets made from their own blood. It is the five year old who first realizes that they are next. He grabs onto his little sister's hand and takes off up the road. As they slip and fall on the ice and snow he gets up and pulls his little sister to her feet and tries again. The Captain and the soldiers laugh at what is nothing more then a sweet pathetic attempt at life. Before the little ones can round the corner the soldiers take aim.

"No, do not shoot them. Let them go. They will learn that there are things far worse than us lurking within the darkness." The Captain tells the soldiers, who then throw the bodies of Balkie and his wife into the back of the truck.

The children run until they can't take another step. The little girl sobs between gasping for air. The little boy, who just turned five, tries to come up with ideas on what to do next. What is that? the boy thinks. Again, a sound so frightens the boy that his heart almost stops beating. He squeezes his little sister and places his hand over her mouth, to stay alive they must be silent.

They swoop in from out of the darkness from both sides. There are two of them. They are dressed in rags with hoods covering their heads. Their faces are white and covered with black scabs. Their teeth are just rotted black stumps. These two are the kind that will make it through this man made hell; for they will eat anything. The children desperately try to hold on to each other, as if it is their last and only hope. They are no match for the two that have given up the part of themselves that was human. When they pull the children apart, hands with twisted fingers are clasped over the little ones mouths. The muffled screams of the two little children fade away into the shadows of the night.