From: dmcintoshtx@yahoo.com   
      
   CHAPTER SIX   
      
   Walter Skinner trudged along the trail among the thirty or forty   
   others.  They had been walking for days now.  He hoped they would   
   arrive at their destination soon and that there would be some thing   
   there for them to eat when they got there.  The man next to him   
   stumbled and Walter caught his arm, steadying him.  They couldn't   
   delay the line or they would taste the guard's whip.  The line kept   
   moving.   
      
   The movement was slow but steady – accompanied by guards on horseback   
   who were armed with two things, a whip and the short cylindrical tube   
   that shot bursts of flame.  Both were used along the way.  He had seen   
   no road signs but guessed them to be somewhere in the mid west; he had   
   no idea where they were headed or what would happen once they got   
   there.  Their captors were totally uncommunicative and spoke to them   
   only to bark orders at them.  He hoped their destination was just over   
   this set of steep hills they were traversing.  They couldn't go on   
   much longer.  This hill was the steepest they had climbed, the pathway   
   narrow and treacherous.  His mind concentrated on silly things like   
   was this really a hill or was it a mountain?  And how high did a hill   
   have to get before it was declared a mountain.  It had seemed like a   
   hill going up but now that they were about to climb down, he thought   
   of it more as a mountain.  This side had a sheer drop off to great   
   boulders below.  A slip here would be fatal.   
      
   Around one bend and then another and they were able to see the bottom   
   and two trucks waiting for them below.  The guards urged them on with   
   a crack of their whips.  The light rain that had been falling decided   
   to open up on them now making the trail down hill even more difficult.   
      
   There was a scuffle up ahead and the unmistakable wail as someone   
   stumbled and went over the side to their death.  The line marched on.   
    The man in front of him slipped, Walter grabbed for him but caught   
   only a handful of shirt.  The sudden jerking movement sent them both   
   over the side, the man's shirt tearing away as he fell out of sight.    
   Walter managed to grab onto a small sapling and hang on about ten feet   
   down the side.  He tried to regain a foot hold and his right leg   
   screamed in protest; it was broken.     
      
   The line above stopped and several stood peering over the side at him.   
    In moments a human chain was formed by the four strong men risking   
   the lash, they brought him back up.  The two guards watched in   
   fascination.  Apparently they had never seen a rescue before.  With a   
   man on each side of him, Walter was brought to his feet.  He hopped   
   between them and the line once again continued on through the rain.    
   The trail widened and it was much easier going down slope.  Away from   
   the great drop off the men breathed a lot easier and the sight of the   
   trucks waiting for them below urged them onward.   
      
   They were all ready to drop by the time they climbed into the back of   
   the trucks.  The trip into town took hours, with exhaustion and pain   
   warring for dominance, Walter sank into a fitful sleep.  It wasn't   
   until the trucks hit the pavement and the ride smoothed out that he   
   awoke, startled to find they were in a large city.  The streets were   
   deserted, shops closed, abandoned; some burned.  The eeriest thing was   
   the total lack of population.  He couldn't help but wonder what   
   happened to the citizens of this town.  He tried to catch a name or   
   something that he might recognize but there was nothing but street   
   after street of abandoned buildings, cars parked askew in every   
   direction, some with the doors still opened and several that had been   
   burned out.  The silence got to him too.  Not a sound could be heard   
   besides the drone of the trucks.  They drove passed block after block   
   of sky scrapers, here and there an open window with some papers   
   fluttering out into the street.  Some windows were broken; some still   
   stood proudly displaying their wares for sale.     
      
   The rain slowed down to a fine mist and he caught a wisp of an odor.    
   He sniffed trying to identify it and decided it smelled like a river.   
    They were leaving the abandoned down town area and were now into the   
   warehouse district.  The waterfront?  Could this be Chicago?  St.   
   Louis?  Had they traveled that far?  The trucks pulled around back of   
   a warehouse and the huge metal door was pulled back.  They were   
   escorted inside where a crowd of a hundred or more people were milling   
   around.  They were carefully watched with guards stationed around the   
   perimeter of the room.  The group was murmuring quietly among   
   themselves and looking over the new arrivals.  They were all searching   
   for someone they knew; a friendly face to share their terror with.     
      
   After a few minutes the order was given for them to line up, single   
   file.  An alien at the front of the line asked for ID.  He was shown   
   it and pointed to a door and the first man went through it.  Walter   
   listened carefully to what was being said.  The alien would take the   
   ID, read the person's name, ask his occupation, and then point to a   
   door.  One man's ID was read as Assistant District Attorney.  He was   
   sent through the door on the left.  A salesman, a plumber, a baker,   
   and a teacher were all sent through the door on the right.  Then came   
   a private investigator.  He was sent through the same door as the ADA.   
    The next three were postmen.  The alien did not understand the term   
   'postman' but he understood when they said they were government   
   employees.  They went through the door on the left.  A carpenter, a   
   singer, a librarian, a cook, and a nurse all went to the door on the   
   right.  Two sailors went to the left.     
      
   Walter got a sinking feeling as he stood there being held up by the   
   man next to him.  He eased his wallet out of his back pocket and   
   dropped it down the side of his leg.  He waited until he was sure no   
   one was looking and bent down to rub his injured leg then slid the   
   wallet as far back into the stacks of crates as he could without   
   drawing any attention to himself.     
      
   When the alien stopped in front of him and said "I D", he shook his   
   head and said he had lost his wallet in the fall.  There was some   
   murmuring between the alien and the guards who had brought him in and   
   then the alien asked.  "Name?  Occupation?"   
      
   "Walter Skinner, carpenter," he answered.  He was pointed towards the   
   right hand door.  He started hopping.  The next man was a taxi driver   
   and was also pointed to the right hand door and he gave Skinner a   
   hand.  Soon the door was closed behind them and he saw they were being   
   loaded up into trucks.  As the trucks filled up they pulled away but   
   before they were out of sight, he got a whiff and sight he hadn't seen   
   since Nam.  Bodies burned, still smoldering and being shoved into a   
   large pit behind the warehouse.  He knew then where the men went who   
   got sent through the door on the left.     
      
   Fifteen minutes later they were unloaded into another warehouse.  This   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)