It was a virus, a glitch in the system that brought the whole world to its knees in just five hours. Grandad says it serves them right for playing God and becoming more machine than man but he still drinks to forget losing mum and dad.
He may have shielded my eyes but I still heard their translator implants burst while their internal communicators spread throughout their body in a wave of blood-soaked grey. It's not the kind of sound you forget, even the smell lingers on in your mind years later.
I still see them from time to time standing at the precipice of the broken bridge with thousands of other tech-consumed drones. Sometimes I wave and the older drones wave back, the ones I think might have adapted to the virus or aren't as consumed by it.
My parents never wave back, nor do they sleep, eat or even move from their post. I asked Grandad if he thought that they'd rusted and become frozen like the tin man from the old Oz books. He just tells me to keep my eyes away from all those dead faces and to move on with my life.
How does he expect me to do that when there's twelve of us trapped on an island surrounded b y all the boats we burned and broke to stop the drone from following us? Nothing could possibly distract me from the fact that I'll probably die here while my mindless parents are staring down with nothing in their eyes but the unnatural glow of their ocular LEDs.
He may have shielded my eyes but I still heard their translator implants burst while their internal communicators spread throughout their body in a wave of blood-soaked grey. It's not the kind of sound you forget, even the smell lingers on in your mind years later.
I still see them from time to time standing at the precipice of the broken bridge with thousands of other tech-consumed drones. Sometimes I wave and the older drones wave back, the ones I think might have adapted to the virus or aren't as consumed by it.
My parents never wave back, nor do they sleep, eat or even move from their post. I asked Grandad if he thought that they'd rusted and become frozen like the tin man from the old Oz books. He just tells me to keep my eyes away from all those dead faces and to move on with my life.
How does he expect me to do that when there's twelve of us trapped on an island surrounded b y all the boats we burned and broke to stop the drone from following us? Nothing could possibly distract me from the fact that I'll probably die here while my mindless parents are staring down with nothing in their eyes but the unnatural glow of their ocular LEDs.
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