“The protocol for locating loved ones or persons is as follows. You must go to city hall and fill out paperwork, DD129-F. You’ll have to have a residence and phone for contact. If anyone comes through that matches your name, you’ll be contacted. You will be allowed to sponsor the refugee or refugees. There’s more paperwork with that, but city hall can help you once your people are located. You’re not allowed on this property. I’m sorry, I can’t let you in.”
“All right, thank you for your help.” Hogan said, very disappointed.
“Yes, sir. You can pull over there and turn your vehicle around.” The guard indicated a small area that had been marked as a turn around. He pulled the truck around and drove back out, passing other cars. He drove back toward the center of town, toward 12th Street. He would register Laura and his daughters.
Hogan arrived back home, and it was weird to think of it as home, two hours later. He’d filled out the paperwork and there were many intrusive questions. It made him feel paranoid. One question asked if the person he was looking for was a felon, or if he were a felon, had been a felon. Christ. He saw Trish at the side of the house and joined her. Baby came up to greet him.
“Hey boy, are you guarding the place and earning your keep?” He laughed at the dog’s excitement. The dog’s body waggled back and forth. He nearly knocked Hogan over in his excitement.
“How did it go? And glad to see you back.” Trish called, coming from around the side of the house. Her cheeks were flushed, the colder weather bringing out a flush. He smiled at her.
“They’ve got that camp locked up tight as hell. No one gets in or out. You were right. They checked my ID. I went over to city hall and filled out paperwork for Laura and the girls. They gave me looks and kept checking my driver’s license. I thought they were going to arrest me and put me in the camp.”
“I’d not be surprised. I was watching the news. People are being rounded up in other states and cities, the ones that have refugee camps. If they don’t have a valid ID or proof of residence, they’re being sent to the camp. It’s turning into a witch hunt, something like a police state. They are even rounding up the homeless.” Trish said nervously.
“Jesus. They mention anything about the location of the dead zones yet?” Hogan asked, both heading to the house. Baby stayed outside, his heavy coat keeping him warm. The government was still dancing around declaring the bombing locations. Prices of gas and food had skyrocket to ridiculous prices. There had been a crackdown on price gouging. The government was having to step in and stop it. The prices were still extremely high, however. There had been odd and even days to get gas. People were panicking as the shelves became thin with products.
Refugees found walking around town were picked up by the police or beaten up by locals. The locals were blaming refugees for the lack of food and high prices. Stupid as the idea was, it was the damage to the resources, pipelines and grids that caused the shortages. Also, the food storages that had been destroyed out west contributed to the pressure being felt by towns and cities. But being a refugee was dangerous now. It was a dirty word and they’d become pariahs.
“No, they keep dancing around it, saying classified and classified. Need to know. That kind of thing. There are more reports about violence in the camps. There are three more Hives popping up in eastern Kansas, to take on the volume of refugees. The refugees are being picked up, right off the street. They’ve got five camps in eastern Texas alone. Almost a million people total. I don’t know where they’re getting the food for them. Maybe Europe is helping, but the news won’t say.” Trish said, going into the living room. She turned on the TV and put it to the news channel. She turned the volume down and Hogan watched the rolling banner below. There were aerial views from aircraft, of the camps. There were different camps, and locations given. Some had structures going up. Circular. Hives, they were called. What a peculiar name for a refugee structure.
“The reports are saying that the refugees are actually building these things. If they don’t build, they don’t eat. But then there are reports that say others are building the structures. One man said he got a note from a refugee, smuggled it out. He said the refugees are being treated like slaves and convicts. They aren’t allowed to leave the camp.”
“The camp at the golf course had a number of blockades. Not only that, the fence that surrounds it is well over twelve feet high, along with razor wire. I think the government continues to obfuscate what is really going on. I think they are trying to keep a lid on everything and all information. I think there is a lot of censorship going on in the news.” Hogan said.
“Wow, it really does sound like they’re prisoners. I’m kind of torn about this issue. Where will they go besides the camp? How will they find homes? There are millions of them. Maybe once the Hives are built, and they’re housed, things will get better. Maybe if people begin to sponsor them, and then, little by little, things get back to normal?”
“I don’t think things will ever get back to normal. I saw the lines at the stores. I think this is just the beginning. I’ve a bad feeling that things are really going
