Government Men by Gary J. Davies
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Joe Mark shifted the long handled, six pound sledge hammer from one hand to another. It was a rotten job, but someone had to do it, and the pay was pretty good. It bothered him for the first week or two, but he'd been at it for seventeen years now, and he didn't really even think much about what he was doing any more. That was the key, not thinking while you did it, and not thinking about it at any other time either. Joe was pretty good at not thinking.
He put on his heavy apron, hip-boots, and goggles, and entered the slaughter house. The stench of death and filth filled the air, despite the fans and vents, and the countless cleanings, but he was used to that too. He'd better be, for in a short time he'd be covered from head to toe with the blood, sweat, and excrement of his victims.
Their desperate, terrified cries filled the air even now. Somehow they knew. They always did. From the noise he knew there were a few pigs and many cattle this time, even before he even saw them.
He'd do the pigs first. They were the worst. He remembered reading someplace that they were smarter than dogs, but he didn't believe that. He had a dog once, and pigs couldn't be that smart; these were all just dumb farm animals. Besides, it was his job, just a job. If he didn't do it, someone else would. Big Macs and bacon had to come from someplace. He was used to it. It didn't bother him anymore, he told himself yet again.
He walked over to 'death row'. Marty had all the animals lined up with their heads firmly locked in place and sticking out into the isle. Marty himself was nowhere in sight. He and Frank would come back in when it was quiet, to help Joe with clean up and butchering. Closest to Joe, seven big pigs were squirming and screaming, but one killing blow of the sledge to each skull and they would all be quiet forever.
For some reason, the animals this morning were much louder than usual, especially the pigs. He put his hands over his ears, but it didn't seem to do any good. It was as if the sounds got right into his head some other way! Sound got in, and raw terror. He could actually feel their terror somehow! He decided that he needed to take some time off from work real soon, assuming that the Earth wasn't gone by tomorrow like those crackpots on the VISICOM had been predicting.
Right now he knew exactly how to stop the sound of those pigs. He would work his way down the row quickly. In less than a minute they'd all be silenced forever by his hammer. He approached the first one, a huge spotted sow with big brown eyes that were looking up at him in terror. He raised the hammer.
"No hurt! Man no hurt! Pig live! No hurt!”
Joe heard it, as plain as anything! The damn pig talked!
"No hurt! Joe man help pig? Feed pig corn?”
The sledge hammer dropped from Joe's limp hands, and he ran screaming from the slaughter house.