My Pet Human {UNDER SERIOUS EDITING}

The Raid

'The trouble is, you think you have time.' ~Buddha

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~Axel~

We emerge from the drain like a swarm of bewildered and cautious ants. As usual, the sudden burst of sunlight is hell to my eyes and skin, which, like every other Resistance dweller's, lacks vitamin D. It isn't our fault really; we try to get out into the open at least once a week. But when the world is as dangerous as ours, it's easy to lose track of time and become severely weak or in worst case scenarios, develop osteoporosis from the lack of needed sunlight.

Usually when we go above ground, we take a few moments to lie on our backs, absorbing the heat and energy from the sun... much like plants, I guess. The truth is, the darkness is both our friend and enemy. It conceals us from the giants, but at the same time, it makes us weak and frail. Easy to knock down. On a regular occasion, we'd savor the sunlight, but today is nothing of the sort.

We're on a mission today.

It's one of the few rules we live by; on a raid, there are no distractions.

But The Director himself struggles to follow his set rule. He's a man who has been too afraid to tackle the challenges of the outside world for a little over fifteen human years. The little real light behind the walls of the pet shop have already begun blistering his sagged, grey/white skin and blood vessels inflame in his eyes like balloons.

Ok, ok. I'm getting a little ahead of myself now. The truth is, we've never been on a raid during the day, let alone during our usual afternoon break from all above ground activities. Every one of us is tired and sore from running errands, so our movements are almost zombie like. And one thing you should know about raiding a pet store at midnight?

The store is closed and locked from the outside.

No one mans the counter and no one can get in without a little set back. At night, it's almost too easy to sneak in and do what we've got to do. Unfortunately for us, it isn't midnight, and judging by the talk about killing all humans and doomsday, no one wants to take precautions.

So at this point in time, the first step in our slightly modified raid is to get rid of the shop keeper. As we reach the thin metal grating separating us from the inside of the shop, the strongest warriors shuffle forward to the front of the pack. That's me, Adam (who doesn't hesitate at this point), Three O'Seven and a few other experienced humans. Everyone's buff, fast and... not to be sexist but male.

The Director and Adam both blow out the candles they hold and toss them down the slanted pipe, no longer needed. Light filters in through the cracks in the grate, illuminated a dozen or so excited faces. Slowly, Three O'Seven places both hands on the metal above us, grunts a little and manages to push the grate up a crack. I can see the muscles in his arms straining from the effort already. Instantly, I'm there to place a smallish pebble in the gap he's created. Three O'Seven gives one last gasp as he drops the grate back down. It catches onto the pebble, denting the rock a little but holding firm.

Three O'Seven smiles cheekily, raising his first. I bump if lightly with my own, trying to hide my sadness. I still feel as cowardly as ever, despite everything. And as well as that, I can't help but wonder... Is Colton up there? One of the brainless humans? It's unlikely; I've been on countless raids before and had no such luck in finding him. But it's the recent memories triggered in my head that makes me hopeful that he's up there in one of those cages. Maybe he'll still be cooped up in the S.C.U. I'll never know, I guess.