IT

“You didn’t have to kill it, Sarge.” 

Dix looked up from the corpse he was about to search, furrowed his hairy brow, and shot a hard glare at PFC Herndon.  He knew this one was going to trouble the moment he saw him.  How the fuck did a skinny little piss ant like him ever get it into the IT Corp and who in hell was the idiot that put him in his squad?  

 “Stand at attention Herndon—and mind your mouth.”

Herndon did neither.  Instead he acted as if he were asking to join it sprawled out dead on the ground.

“I was just saying, Sarge, it didn’t look dangerous or anything, it didn’t try to attack us or steal anything from us.  So why’d you go and kill it?”

That was enough for Dix; he stood up and laid Herndon out with one swift blow to the solar plexus.  The rest of the squad stood rigid in stony silence as Herndon writhed on the ground gasping for breath.  They all wanted to laugh at the little arrogant sucker because they all hated him too, but they new better than to say or do anything while Dix was handing out discipline for fear they would get a sample of it too.   

“You got more to say about it, Herndon?  If you do, then next time you open your mouth, you’ll be lying next to it with a bullet in the brain due to insubordination.  Is that understood?” 

Herndon, regaining some of his breath, got up and stood at attention on his still rubbery legs. 

“Now, Herndon, in case you didn’t get it through your thick skull during the six months of Basic Training your government took the time and the expense to put you through I, and the men here, who do know their asses from their elbows will explain it to you.  Corporal Slater, step forward.” 

Slater, in the second row of men, took a step backwards, did a crisp left face, marched to the end of his row, executed an equally crisp right face, marched nearly parallel to where Sergeant Dix stood, executed another right and then a left until he was face to face with Dix. 

“Slater, about face!”

Slater spun on his heel to face the squad. 

“Now Slater, perhaps you can tell this dumb ass just why I killed it.” 

“Yes sir, Sergeant Dix.  You killed it because it was alive, sir.” 

“And why did I kill it for being alive?”

“Because it needed to be dead, sir!” 

“Correct as usual Slater, now explain your reasoning to this imbecile—and take your time; remember who you are talking to.” 

“Permission to move about, sir.”

“Granted.”

In swift strides, Slater kneeled over the corpse and searched it.  He began pulling items from it as he went while laying them in a row next to it.  When he finished he stood and faced the squad again.

“Are you ready with your report, Slater?” asked Dix.

“Sir, yes sir!”

“Then let’s hear it; listen up Herndon, you may learn something.”

Using the tip of his hobnail boot, Slater pointed at one of the items he took from the corpse.  It was a bright looking piece of paper.  

“It was beginning to consume sweets, sir.  It must have gotten them on the black-market.” 

“Hear that Herndon?  It was beginning to eat sweets.  I don’t eat sweets Herndon, because I can’t get sweets, I can’t get them because most of them have been eaten up and we can’t grow no more of the stuff that made them sweet because the damn climate changes just won’t allow it anymore.  That thing Slater found was a candy wrapper.  Do you know what candy is Herndon?”

Herndon hung his head.  He knew, they told him about it in Basic, but he wasn’t going to justify Dix’s actions.

“Never mind, Herndon.  Keep going Slater.”

The next thing Slater pointed at looked like a training manual, but this one was not crisp and clean like the ones in the IT Corp, its pages were bent and frayed but it still looked better than any manual Herndon had ever seen since its pages were covered with bright letters and pictures. 

“It must have been reading this sir; it could have been forming nihilistic ideas because of it.”

“Correctamundo, Slater.  That item may be the vilest of the pile since not only was it reading it and getting consumable ideas, it was most likely sharing it with some of its own kind and we can’t allow that.”

The next thing Slater pointed to looked like a bullet cartridge with a flat blunted nose.

“It was beginning to paint itself, sir.”

“I know it; I saw that stuff all over its mouth.  Do you know what that is Herndon?” 

Again, Herndon stood mute.  Fuck Dix.  He would have killed it anyway, no matter what.  He was mean bastard who did whatever Dix wanted; he really didn’t care about the IT Corp.  He was just in it for himself.

“In case you didn’t know, you dumb bastard that is something called ‘lipstick’, it is an oil based product.  Even an idiot like you knows that we are running out of oil, so why should anyone waste it on this shit?  The Corp needs it to run our convoys and to keep our weapons from rusting up.  All this thing did was paint its fucking face with it.  Get back in line, Slater.” 

Slater retraced his steps back to his place in line, feeling very pleased that Dix had heaped praise on him. 

“You see, Herndon.  We can’t allow things like it to survive anymore.  Long before you were born, we outlawed rampant consumerism, the eating up and the using up of the planet.  We can’t allow things like it to go on thinking that we can return to the old ways.  It and all of its kind must be eradicated otherwise there won’t be anything left for the Corp Council Leaders and the rest of us.  Now do you understand why I killed it, Herndon or am I speaking too fast for your brain to comprehend my words?”       

Herndon stood in silence looking down at the thing lying at his feet.  He hated Dix, he hated the Corp, and he hated what the world had become.  He only wanted to go back to the old ways, the ways he learned about in Basic.  Ways he could only dream about in today’s world.  In its youthful innocence, this little thing had apparently tried to go back to those ways and for that, Dix killed it. 

Which left only one thing to do, pulling his sidearm; he shot Dix between his sick, beady, eyes.  Now it looked as if he had three of them. 

As he ran off, with a hail of gunfire in his wake, he wondered about the parents of the child Dix had murdered.  Would they miss her?  Were they even still alive?  Or had men such as Dix slaughtered them, too? 

He didn’t know.  He only knew that if he survived, he would try to make the world as it had once been, even if it meant quickening the end of it.