Run

The colony rested well at the waterfall as each drank water until the folds of their skin were stretched out across their bloated bellies. To reach the circular protrusion poking out from the rock face, the workers began piling on top of each other. The pile began right in the body of water. The first couple had their heads pushed underneath and were drowned. Around the pile of workers stood guards as the workers walked over one another to slowly reach the bars. Standing around were only a couple workers left as they pondered how to break past the bars. They could certainly slip through, aided by the slipperiness of the fuzzy bars, but the guards behind them couldn't.

What to do.

Simple. Run. Run from the tyrant who benefitted from their work and contributed nothing in return. Run from the endless days and nights shoveling trash around the clock. Run from the bites that chomped after them if they were lagging behind the slightest bit.

So they ran. They scrambled over one another to get through the grate. The mole right under the tube clung on as hard as he could under the barrage of stomps as every mole tried to get through. The mountain of moles grew narrower and narrower as its peak was supported by a single mole alone hanging onto the protrusion.

The guards, seeing this, jumped in and began biting, grabbing, and throwing the moles, wearing down their mountain. The moles which fell splashed into the water and some even floated near the group of scavengers which had situated themselves on the bank of the body of water.

The mole that was left hanging from the edge of the protrusion by its companions who trampled over it finally stopped its suffering. But not all of it was done. It pulled itself up with the last bit of strength as the guards cleared away the surrounding moles that were pulling it down. Pushing off against the mole that was directly under it, pushed its claws through the hole and hooked the green fuzzy bars. Pulling itself up and through the stream of water splashing into its face, it finally got what it deserved, being both the first to touch the protrusion and the last one to get through. Only a few dozen got through though. The rest remained and the layer of bodies in the lake remained the same.

The workers stacked themselves up again, only this time the topmost mole of the pyramid was a guard. Another guard ran up the mountain to ram itself against the bars. It managed to slip through. What to do it wondered.

The workers below were definitely going to be left behind. The queen would definitely not give birth anymore. The guards were going to be the next workers. Scavengers were going to be alright because they had their energy, but it was just a guard. It ran. Ran faster than any other worker previously had due to the tiny bit of energy it had. And it too, disappeared into the dark abyss.

Why? That question ran through the head of every guard at that moment. Why would he run away like a worker? They stared at their feet as they faced their duty to break through the bars. The workers. How would they get up the moment everybody left? Who would do all the work for them? Themselves. The thought ran through every guard. Oh. They continued their job with newfound vigor. Every time they ran up and hit one of the bars, they fell to the side and rolled off to splash down and spray water everywhere.

At that moment, a guard "missed" and popped through the other side. What do I do! Do I go back? Nope! I can survive on my own! Where there's water there's life! He too, disappeared into the darkness.

Seeing this, the next guard preparing to charge up the pile and into the bar rotated his body the slightest bit left. This was it. All or nothing. The scavengers and queen behind were just lying on their bellies and had their eyes closed. What lazy people. Why should I help them? They'll just treat me as a slave. Up I go. Freedom!

Up he went, stepping on the moles below him which their backs were blue and black from what had occurred. He gained speed and charged up. Clang! His skull grazed the side of the slippery green bar, redirecting him through the hole and pushing his shoulders tightly together. Crack. Something broke. That something healed. Easy peasy. Freedom.

What was freedom though? Lack of orders from another person? But the environment around him commanded him to find food, find water. Was freedom paradise? Where was freedom? It felt the same pressures on it as before. Protect. Not only did he have to protect the colony from the workers, now he had to protect himself from his fellow guards and scavengers. Was this less freedom? They still had a hand in where he could move, lest he be discovered and hunted down. Food. Before the workers had found him food. Finding a home. He had been dislocated from the tunnels he had spent his whole life in. The tunnels the workers had dug. Was this freedom?

Everything could be solved by power. Only by becoming powerful could he become free. Powerful enough to protect himself and deter anyone from attacking. Powerful enough to command workers to find food. Powerful to be able to live anywhere without disturbance. It was time to achieve freedom.

The first step was gaining power. But power needed opportunity. Certainly there was no opportunity with the colony. The darkness beckoned. The guard who wished for freedom obeyed.

Below, the guards were observing. The scavengers were sleeping. The queen was sleeping. Who was to stop them? Nobody. Run. Clangs and cracks rang out as each guard got through. It was nothing complicated. Start at the bottom of the pile of the moles, keeping yourself afloat by swimming. Climb up once the person before you took off, line yourself up. Wait for the other person to finish or else you might run into him. Run. Run with every bit you had or else you wouldn't be able to force yourself through. If you failed, roll yourself off the side and wait your turn. The bars groaned. It became easier and easier as each mole got through. Not because of anything like improved technique, but because the bars had shifted slightly every time a guard got through. Even the guard that was at the top of the pile got through easily due to the warping of the bars.

The topmost worker meekly opened his eyes, feeling the lack of footsteps. Where were the guards? No guards? Scavengers were asleep? Queen was asleep? Hehehe. Opportunity at last. It leaped up and grasped onto the edge of the protrusion. But it wasn't alone. What happened before happened again. Workers fell upon each other trying to rush to the top. Nobody who cared noticed and those who noticed didn't care. The mountain of moles grew narrower and narrower until it was a straight line. The bottommost mole who was still alive treated his companions like a ladder who were hanging onto each other by grasping their feet. The claws dug into the sides of each mole as they climbed up, but this was worth it. The mole above wouldn't be able to climb up until there were no moles dragging it down beneath it. It was worth each scratch in their sides from which blood ran from the topmost mole to the feet of the bottommost mole, dripping down slowly.

They kept on going until the last worker alive was pulled into the tube. Success. No scavenger or queen knew as they slept in the sun. But this was still the dumpsite, even if it was on the very edge. The oasis fit its name perfectly, a spot of water where there was none all around. A shadow swept the ground.