Locked away

The alarm blares throughout the factory, signaling the end of my shift. Instead of the almost cheerful one that starts and ends our occasional lunch break, this one is harsh and angry. When I was younger, my dad would joke around and tell me it was just mad we were going home, but as a now seventeen year old who spends a good fifty percent of my waking day in the factory, it didn't feel as much of a joke. Shouldering my bag as I followed my co-workers out, I took one last glance at the camera above my station, the little blinking blue light an indication it was watching. I stifle the urge to show it my middle finger and hurried to catch up with my section. I didn't feel like being stopped by the Locked Army on my way out.

Almost as if they heard my thoughts, a small group of about five soldiers marched towards me and the other night workers. Their guns were slung across their backs, their uniforms were a foggy grey color lined with black. It only made the trademark insignia, a rose gold locket shaped like a heart, stand out more strongly against the uniform. When the light hit it right, it almost looked like blood.

I came to a halt, causing one of my co-workers to bump into me. He grumbled something under his breath, but his words died when he saw the uniforms. Any complaints that might have been shared through quiet whispers ceased immediately.

The small group of workers in my section all continued to walk, though noticably more hesitant than before, all of them holding their breaths. I watched them leave as I stood with my feet rooted to the floor. The Locked noticed me, their tinted helmets hiding their facial expressions, assuming they were even human. Their voices all sounded robotic, and they carried out all orders without hesitation, but a rumor from a few districts over had managed to spread to mine before it was snuffed out.

During a riot, one person fought back against the Locked, and even managed to stab one. It bled. When I heard the news, I was stunned. Riots were rare enough as it was, and fighting back was almost unheard of. So someone managing to stab one of the Locked and draw blood was unfathomable.

As I stood there, one of them saw me. My heart froze and for a moment my mind briefly entertained the idea that I was about to die.

Deciding that I didn't want to die a coward, I took a shaky breath and leveled my gaze at it, with my chin lifted in false bravado.

It merely stated back, and for a few moments, that's how we stayed. Two entities assessing each other. Then as quickly as it started, whether human or robot I would never know, it turned and walked away, following it's unit for rounds of the factory. I stayed still, my ears straining to listen for the sounds of their footsteps to fade. A few minutes passed and there was nothing, save for the sounds of the factory and my panicked, uneven breathing. The day workers weren't due to come in for another hour.

Once the evident shaking in my hands and knees came to a stop, I gathered what was left of my brain, that had scattered at the sight of the small group that worked for the military. The military that regularly patrolled the small districts that made up our nation, and enforced its rules.

Squeezing the straps of my back pack, I squared my shoulders and left the factory, not even stopping to look at the sunrise as I went straight home like I was supposed to.

"Because good soldiers follow orders." I mumbled sarcastically to myself, so quietly I knew not even the cameras would hear me.