Weekly Writing Challenge 01/07/2026

I Am continues:

“Don’t leave any marks boys.” Someone said, obviously a boss as the farmhands guiding the group into the shed clipped their cattle prods to their belts and began shoving the stragglers with gloved hands.

The entire group, which he estimated at between twenty-five and thirty strong, all male, and all completely naked, were lined up along the back wall of the barn.

“Clean the shit off em,” someone yelled, most likely the same one who had warned against damaging them with the cattle prods. Three fire hoses were turned on the group, the water came out hard, fast, and ice cold. Stinging his flesh, getting under his eyelids, and invading both his nose and mouth. Still the majority of those in the group made little noise aside from a few grunts of displeasure.

As they were pummeled by the water one of the men fell to the ground and covered his head with his hands. Those on the hoses focused all three streams on that unfortunate soul, driving him against the wall as he tried to protect his face with his hands. The force of the water drove his hands away from his face, forcing open his mouth as he was held in place.

“Goddammit what are you trying to do?.” One of the hands yelled as he waded into the three men manning the hoses and began beating at them with his fists. The water was turned off but it was too late for the man who had been pinned against the wall. Without the water pressure to hold him up he fell to the floor where he remained, motionless.

“You’re paying for that one boy. I’m taking the cost outta your next pay.” The farmhand in charge shouted.

Gus pushed his way through the crowded bodies around him, intending to go to the injured party to see if there was anything he could do to help. As he did, he began to notice something he’d seen before but had so far managed to keep from consciously acknowledging.

They were all the same.

Every last one of them was an identical duplicate of the next. Each one of them had short sandy hair, wide spaced eyes, a pug nose and a thin mouth. Beyond the facial similarities they were each the exact same height and he was willing to bet if he had a scale available they would each weigh nearly the same, no more than a few ounces different.

How? He wondered before the answer filled his mind chilling him to the bone.

It was how they were keeping the costs down. Everyone had assumed they were shipping in illegals they’d kidnapped from the slums of Mexico. Feeding and clothing them, but not much else.

But they said cloning a human was impossible, no they’d said it was immoral, and laws had been enacted to punish anyone who tried. But it hadn’t stopped the corporations that owned the farms.

Surely once he explained the mix up he’d be released, he didn’t look like them obviously, and he was confident they had noticed the difference. His finger strayed to the stitches in the side of his neck.

They’d cut his vocal cords so he couldn’t speak.

To be continued!

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They’re already dealing with tough times, but things get even crazier when Robret’s mom is attacked by his dad and turns into a zombie. This is only the first act in a chain of events that plunges the world into the zombie apocalypse. Forcing the boys to figure out how to survive in this new, terrifying reality.

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