Yes, I am a Human

Albert was slowly regaining his vision. He found himself face-first on the sidewalk. He tried to breathe, but felt as if all the oxygen in his body had left him. “H-Help me...” he said weakly. “I can’t get up...”

He suddenly heard a light set of footsteps approach him. “Are you okay, mister?” a high, but timid voice asked.

Albert rolled over onto his back, slowly stood up, and replied, “I just need a little he—” He suddenly felt nauseous, fell over, and hit his head on the sidewalk.

A woman ran up and crouched down beside Albert's head. She scoffed, “Miss Maxine, step back please; you're in the way.” She inspected his swelling forehead wound and said, “You need to go to the hospital.”

Albert brought his hand up to his wound and touched it. “No, I-I think I’ll be okay; there's only a drop of blood.”

He was finally able to get a good look at the ladies he was talking to: a middle-aged woman and a young girl.

The girl was dressed up in a frilly, puffy, neon-green dress a little big for her size. Her white shoes were squeaky clean, her chestnut hair was tied up in a tight bun with no stray strands, and she had a hairclip in the shape of a daisy attached to her hair.

The woman, however, exuded a different tone. She was wearing a simple, thin, solid-color cornflower dress, her hair was all bundled up under a cotton cap, and her shoes were black, worn-out flats.

The woman reached into her pocket and began to pull out a wallet. “Then, I’ll cover your cab fare so you can reach the shelter before the blackout. I-It’s the least I can do.”

Albert waved her off. “N-No, that’s unnecessary. I can just walk.”

Maxine walked up to Albert, looked at him, tilted her head, faced the woman and said, “He’s a refugee, right—”

The woman quickly turned aghast, grabbed Maxine’s ear, and yanked her to the side. She yelled, “Miss Maxine Scarlett, you do not say that type of statement aloud! That is not what your mother wants from a growing lady like you. Now turn around and say you’re sorry.”

“Or what?” Maxine whined.

"It’s fine. I-I wasn’t offended by her question, miss—”

“Once I tell your mother, you’ll be in big trouble,” the woman scolded, disregarding Albert’s plea entirely. “You of all people know how she’s going to react.”

Maxine suddenly froze and her face turned somber. “I know,” she muttered, caressing her calloused palms. “She only became scary because of what happened to Father...”

“So, apologize to the man this instant.”

Maxine sighed, turned around, slightly bowed her head, and admitted in a monotonous tone, “As the daughter of the Scarlett family, I am extremely sorry for any inconveniences I have caused you. Please accept my apology.”

Albert scratched his head and replied, “I-I accept.”

The woman quickly bowed her head. “I’m very sorry." With an irritated face, she gripped Maxine's arm tightly and pulled her along. "Let’s go, Maxine—”

Albert interjected, “I just have one question: where is the shelter located? This entire city is just a maze to me.”

Her irritation immediately morphed into a smile and she replied, “Of course; I'd be happy to help. Walk down this street until you reach the intersection of McCormick and Fifth. Then, turn left and continue walking. The shelter should be easy to spot.”

Albert quickly thanked the woman and parted ways. She's really scary... And, why was I automatically directed to the shelter?

After about twenty minutes of walking, he was entranced by a glow emanating from one of the storefronts. The blue light was blinking rapidly and sound was coming from its location. As he got closer, Albert deciphered a familiar voice coming from behind the glass.

“We are around thirty minutes away from the blackout and I am here to deliver one last message from our military: the nickel mines of Agarasi have been liberated by the Coalition of Northern Countries (CNC) from Anwar. The military estimates that the capital—Rif’a—will be under CNC control by the end of the month, putting an end to the Second War of Salvation. 

"From the nation's capital, I’m Karl Kirby. Stay safe, goodnight, and long live Lux Aeterna.”

Immediately, the televisions shut off in unison.

Not long after, a man walked out of the building, locked the door behind him, and jiggled the knob a little. It was a man around his seventies, yet there still was a vigor of life present in him. “Do you need something?” he asked.

“No,” Albert replied, “I was just watching the television, that’s all.”

“Ah, well don’t get caught outside when the blackout happens. Just so you know, the shelter is that way,” he said, pointing in the same direction that the woman gave Albert. The owner quickly walked behind the store and disappeared.

“T-Thank you...” Albert quickly scanned his surroundings. There were streetlamps with sirens every three poles. The only form of life was the moths hovering around the lamps. I really need to get going—

Air-raid sirens began to go off, gluing Albert to the sidewalk. We’re being bombed?! The streetlamps began to shut off successively. Not again, not again. Albert’s feet, as if on instinct, began to accelerate in the direction of the shelter. I’m too far.

“Hey!” someone hollered behind Albert.

Albert turned around but saw no one.

“On your left!” Albert turned and discovered that the voice originated from the man that closed the television shop. “You won’t get to the shelter in time,” he said. “Just stay with us until sunrise."

Loud whistling sounds started to come from the dark sky. The ground began to rumble rapidly as if multiple earthquakes were simultaneously occurring, knocking Albert flat on his bottom. He quickly scrambled back onto his feet and sprinted towards the owner.

He gestured Albert over into a two-door hatch leading deep into the ground. The two men quickly rushed down the opening and the man immediately sealed and locked the hatch.

Albert was led down a corridor into a large, off-white room. The walls were littered with articles of clothing on hangars, posters, and shelves of canned goods. The large fluorescent lights were slightly swinging back and forth to the rumbling of the ground above him. On the wall farthest from him, there were more shelves that housed large boxes, and another door that locked from the outside.

Murmurs quickly sprouted within the room and all eyes were on Albert. He estimated around twenty-five to thirty-five people were present in the room with him.

"Who did Rudolph bring this time?" "Why does he keeping bringing in people?" "Yeah, the newcomers cut into the food and water rations; we're better off not letting stragglers in."

Two women approached the owner: a woman who was around the owner’s age and a woman who seemed like she was in her early twenties.

“These two ladies here are my wife Andrea and my niece Vera.”

Andrea asked, “Rudolph, honey, who is this?”

“This is... This is...” He paused for a moment and turned toward Albert. “I never got your name, did I?”

“M-My name is Al...fred. Alfred. You can call me Al if you want.”

“Well Alfred, you’ll be able to leave once the sun comes up.” Rudolph firmly patted Albert’s back and lightly pushed him forward. “In the meantime, you can stay with us—”

“Wait a minute,” an old voice exclaimed. “Check him. He might be an Imitation.”

Murmurs began to swirl throughout the room.

“An Imitation?” “They've reached our city?” “There's no way.” "What's Willie on about this time?"

“A-An Imitation?” Albert asked. “What’s that?”

The man was dressed in a spotless, but faded, jade-green uniform. His hair was whiter than the walls, and he had a small pearl-white stubble on his chin. On his waist was a worn-out black leather belt with and a brown leather holster.

He closed the distance between him and Albert, pointed at Albert, and said, “The boy does not know what an Imitation is. Everyone in this country—hell, even this planet—knows what that is.”

“Willie, h-he’s a refugee. You can tell by his outfit—”

“Why are you defending it? It's trying to drop our guards and then it’ll kill us all!” Willie reached into his belt and pulled out a six-round revolver.

Shouts and screams rang out through the shelter. Horrified mothers covered their children's eyes. The men looked away and covered their faces in fear. Everyone was petrified at the unfolding situation.

Rudolph pleaded, “Wait, you can’t kill him—”

“You can’t, Rudolph. You always need other people to bail you out.” Willie opened the chamber and inserted a bullet. “Have you seen this face before?” Willie closed the chamber and pointed the barrel between Albert’s eyes. “Did you check its pockets before letting it in? Does he have a weapon? Did you verify his ID?”

"I-I—"

Albert threw his hands in the air. “Please don't shoot, sir,” he begged. He slowly got down on both of his knees. “I-I swear, I'm just a refugee.”

“Willie, just hear him out; don't jump to rash conclusions—”

He cocked the hammer and slowly moved his finger toward the trigger. “I do know one way: if it's an Imitation, its internals should be artificial. I'll shoot it, we'll bring him into the cellar, then we'll open it up.”

“How will we open him up? And, what if he's a...human?”

Willie shrugged, “Oh well.”

“Oh well? Oh well?! That's it? There's a chance you're gonna kill a man!”

“I’m saving everyone in this room. Either we kill it, or it kills us." Willie locked eyes with Albert. "Any last words—”

Rudolph interrupted, “I-Isn't he more valuable to us alive than dead? We can quarantine him in the cellar and contact the DDD.”

He didn't listen. Willie wrapped his finger around the trigger and pulled it.