NationStates Jolt Archive

Life, such a cruel hard life. Ernine was snatched from her home, her parents killed in cold blood. The men had been professionals, they held no remorse, and a bath of blood followed in their footsteps. She sat in the back of the truck, emotionless, she held no attachment to the one's who called themselves mom and dad. She stared at another child, his face was covered with the blood of someone else, probably his parents.

The truck took a corner real fast, and caught the occupants by surprise, every child in the back of the truck fell to the floor, or smacked against the wall. Ernine watched a girl smack her head and start crying, she smiled at the sight of someone else's pain.

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Nemo was silent and emotionless as he sat in the truck watching the other children. He had been snatched from an empty house where They had left him. When the soldiers came he didn't run, besides he couldn't stand up to him he was only four.

When the truck took the corner he and those sat with him were thrown against the floor. Without missing a beat he quickly sat back where he was, ignoring those who had started crying.

The Telkini twins sat silently in the back of the truck moments after witnessing the horrid murder of their parents.

Samantha, the shier of the two, sat silently staring at the floor and never making eye contact with the other kids that had joined them. Blood still lay splattered on her face, but she dare not wipe away the memory it invoked already. Reserved and alone, Sammy, as her brother affectionately called her, spent much time dwelling in the depths of her mind.

Brad, however, was sleeping on the floor, and thanks to his strange disorder he did not even wake up when the truck took a sharp turn and sent the kids flying. That's how it was with the boy. Either he was the most apparent person around or he was dead silent in sleep like it was a coma.

Now they were going to have to grow up quickly, roughed up by the realities of their world...

Kast Dromatas sat in a corner, shivering in shock. The murder of his mother and nanny still fresh in his mind, he tried to recoup and recover. He was smart enough to realize his danger, and to realize that the would not survive if he made a wrong move. He looked around. Plenty of children. Some had blood splattered on their face. Others, like him, were not marked. Some were crying, others were stoic, as if they didn't care. He felt like crying, but didn't dare. He couldn't let the others look down on him. Unsure of himself but trying to look somewhat impassive, he settled down further and tried to keep from shivering.

Numb. It seemed to be the only sensation her small body could handle. But it was more than a feeling. It affected her senses as well in a manner similar yet entirely different to shock. Cyriah simply could not comprehend what had happened in the last few hours of her life. It couldn't possibly be real. Just another ghost story nightmare, like the ones her cousin Liam used to tell. He liked to see her cry.

So she sat numbly in a corner, where the twists and turns of the vehicle seemed slightly more merciful, not that she was truly aware of them anyhow. For Cyriah, even the simplicity of sound was somehow subdued, like the crash of waves on a distant shoreline. Thin arms hugged thin legs, offering a meager shelter into which she could bury her face. It was there she found her sanctuary. Her mind took her somepace else entirely. To a forest, deep and dark and still. To that ancient place where generations of her people had sought solace and reflection. Her ragged breathing calmed somewhat and slowed the rapid beat of her heart. Until the truck took another corner with reckless abandon. She dared a glance into the chaos around her, and found herself wondering at the composure some of the other children managed to acheive.

Ossal had been sleeping when abducted. When awoken by blood-stained soldiers he simply got up and went with them. He'd been passed about between enough foster homes to not care who had custody of him provided they weren't gooshy and sappy and full of baby talk.

Being tossed into the back of a van with other children, he rubbed his shin where it had hit another kid's head. Looking at them, he lay down on the floor and fell asleep again as he rolled with the motion of the van. The blubbering of some of the newer arrivals roused him for brief moments before he returned to his dreams.

Ernine's eyes started staring out of the back of the truck. Dark storm clouds could barely be made out in the darkness of the night. Behind them, if one were so keen to observe, another truck rode. None of the trucks in the convoy had headlights on, despite the fact it was pitch dark outside. The trucks were loud, and reeked of diesel fuel.

A flash of lightning lit up the road, immediately followed by a clap of thunder. The light revealed, but only for a second, that dense forests surrounded the road they were on. The lightning seemed to act as a cue for the torrential downpour that followed. The roof on the truck leaked, letting water all over the inside of the truck.

Ernine smiled when it started raining, most people hated the rain, yet she loved it. Suddenly she was jostled as the truck came to a quick stop. The world they knew at the moment suddenly exploded as five men, who were dressed the same as those that had taken her, started screaming.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY TRUCK NOW!!!!!!!" Seemed to be the jist of what they were saying, all of them were trying to scream over each other, making it hard to tell what they were saying.

Ernine jumped out as fast as she could, straight into a gigantic puddle that the truck was parked in. Her clothes quickly became soaked, between the puddle, and the ice cold rain, it was impossible to stay dry.

She started taking off from the truck, only to be screamed at by a soldier. He picked her up with one arm, and screamed in her ear. Her ears started ringing because he was screaming so loud. After he was done yelling at her he threw her towards a group of children. The soldiers looked like wolves attacking a herd of sheep.

When water started spreading across the floor, formerly only slightly sticky with drying blood spatters, Ossal woke. Seeing it was rain, he grinned. It had been raining just about every time the goverment had moved him between orphanages and foster homes.

With the fact that a couple of the men yelling looked like they were about to burst blood-vessels and had quite a flourid hue to thier faces, he decided to save them some stress and get out of the truck into the rain. He shivered slightly at the cold but otherwise had a slightly bored look on his face.

Nemo looked down at the floor as the rain leaked through. It reminded him of the house They had left him in, there were stains everywhere on the bare floor from where the roof had leaked.

When the trucked stopped an order was shouted. Nemo knew it was an order that must be obeyed. With the other children he quickly got out of the truck and directly into the heavy rain. Within seconds he was drenched to the bone.

In her pensive state of mind, Samantha didn't notice the storm following them. Neither lightning nor thunder alerted her to the fact until the truck slammed to a stop and she glanced at the back door. It burst open as five large men began shouting at them as loud as they could. Amazingly, though perhaps not so if one knew the twins, Brad still did not wake up. However, by some fluke of science even the lightest touch from his sister could stir him while an exploding bomb could not.

They began moving to the door, some of the last ones out. As such, they happened to be in the way as one of the other children was hurled through the air. Brad managed to "catch" her... or at least his face did as she nearly barreled him over. Not knowing exactly what to do, the twins stood there in near silent obedience...

Distantly, Cyriah thought she heard thunder, and the stacatto of rain against the body of the truck. But it might only be gravel kicked up by the tires. It took several moments for her to realize that the truck had stopped moving, and the big men were yelling. She felt as if she were in a haze, like the world was moving in slow motion. As a boy near her scrambled to get out, she grabbed the tail of his shirt reflexively, and followed close behind.

Outside she became acutely aware of smell. The harsh acrid stink of diesel fuel had dulled her sense of smell significantly, but it was the absense of it now more than the scent of anything else in particular that she noticed. The men were still yelling. Cyriah was still holding the edge of the boy's shirt, and huddling with the growing gaggle of children in the rain. There was nothing else to do but wait.

Kast, lost in his dreams, didn't notice the rain until he woke up soaking. The truck had stopped. Kast sat up, instantly alert, and wished he hadn't. The entire floor of the truck was awash with rainwater. Kast grimiced. He hated rain. Looking around, he saw no-one else particularly bothered by it, so he immediatly put his unreadible face. Kast almost jumped when the door opened and the men started screaming, but he managed to control himself and get out. He has one of the last ones out, however, and was immediatly picked up by an angry man with a face like a tomato. He found himself tossed through the air and, just as suddenly, crashing down on gravel. With great effort, he picked himself up of the ground, scared and confused...

Ernine stood up after landing on another child. She payed him little mind, and stood up. Once again she was picked out by one of the soldiers, he dragged her to the side of the gaggle.

"Don't move," he said in a gruff voice.

With Ernine standing there, he lined four other "students" behind her. He then stood there for a minute. Then he nearly exploded.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL DOING? Get the fuck behind them!" He screamed this, and the other instructors started kicking random students.

One of the soldiers grabbed the boy she'd been desperately clinging to, tearing him easily from her small grasp. She looked down at her hand pensively. The boy's shirt had served as a security blanket and anchor of sorts. Unfortunately she wasn't given long to think when the big man started screaming again. Briefly she wondered how it was that grown-ups could yell so much.

A swift kick caught her behind the knee and sent her stumbling to the ground. Realizing the danger of her position, she scrambled to her feet and stood behind the closest of the four already assembled. Cyriah stared at the back of the boy's head, afraid to look anywhere else.

Nemo realised he had to get in line straight away or suffer the wrath of the instructors. Before he did however he was kicked in the back by one of them, he grunted as the pain went up his spine. Staggering he went and joined in the line, he didn't want to be hit or kicked again as They would often beat him.

Once he'd joined the line, he stood and looked forward. He fully expected to be beaten if he were to look around and out of fear he just looked forward waiting for whatever came next.

Getting kicked in the shoulder with enought force to carry him through the air seriously hurt. Of course the fact that he was small and light did make less necessary on the kicker's part to exert as much effort as it might have taken otherwise.

Ossal got up and spat out some blood from where he'd bitten his tongue, and a section of cheek, and gotten in line. Realizing that spitting on the one in front of him might not be the best of ideas, he let a faint stream of the red fluid out the side of his mouth while he waited.

Kast pulled himself up off the groung, wincing in pain. he looked down and winced at the scraped knee. Before he had time to clean off the loose bits of gravel stuck in the wound, however, he found himself facing another angry instructor, who kicked him in the stomach. Doubled over in pain, Kast sank to his knees, the wind knocked out of him. The instructor kicked him again, this time in the side. Kast thought he heard a crack at the last kick, but couldn't be sure, couldn't think straight...hauled roughly in line, forced to stand...he was trying...couldn't bear to think of how weak he must look...

Cyriah dared a fearful glanced to the walking wounded around her in the formation. She'd seen several of the children recieve kicks from the peripherals of her vision, but few as fearful to her as one bleeding from the mouth, and another looking ashen and short of breath.

When it seemed the instructers' attention was elsewhere, she mouthed silently to the boy beside her. "Are you ok?"

Being some of the last out of the truck also meant that the Telkini twins would be near the back of the lines. Luckily they didn't have to suffer the immediate ire of the scary men... yet.

As they lined up, Brad was third from the back in the center row while his sister was one place to the left and back of him. Even despite their connection and his concern for her, he dared not risk a glance and risk being targeted by the big guys...

Why... why are they doing this? Samantha wondered, on the verge of "mental tears."

Kiley brashly gritted her teeth, she was mildly annoyed by all this. She was pissed that she was standing in front of the rest of the class, and she was even less happy about how hard it was raining. Before she realized it she had two of the soldiers in her face.

"GET ON YOUR FACE NOW, YOU LITTLE ****," one of them screamed at her.

She gritted her teeth harder, and refused to budge. The signs of resistance she showed were met immediately with a foot in the back of her knee by a different instructor. Her face slammed down into the mud, and she instantly tried to get up, only to find a boot slam her on her face. All of the instructors, that were circled around her, started screaming at her. She could only hear parts of what was said as her face was stuck in the mud. She felt a hard kick in her side, and rolled over on her back.

"WHEN I SAY ROLL OVER, YOU BETTER ROLL THE FUCK OVER," an instructor yelled. He turned to face the four prodigal squad leaders, "YOU FUCKTARDS BETTER GET DOWN NOW TO," all of them instantly fell to their faces.

"HOW CAN YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?" He screamed at Kiley.

She was shocked, and had no clue what was going on. Her mouth locked, and she remained silent.

"FUCKING SAY SOMETHING," he screamed as he kicked her in the side.

She grunted as he kicked her. Her mind was racing, she didn't even know what had happened.

"Let what happen," she nearly whispered.

"I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU."

She repeated herself in a slightly louder tone, only to be met with three kicks to the side. He wasn't satisfied with the volume he received this time, and started screaming at her and kicking her at the same time. She found the volume that satisfied him between kicks.

"What you ask?" His voice was at a normal room level as he grabbed the girl by her shirt, and lifted her to her feet. She hunched to the side where she had been kicked, and blood dribbled from her mouth. She looked up to see a girl, she would later know as Cyriah, being held by one of the men.

The man slapped Kiley and gruffly said, "Stop being so damned weak, stand up straight." He fumed for a second and started screaming, "YOU LET THIS LITTLE **** DO WHATEVER SHE WANTS. YOU LET HER LOOK AROUND AND TALK IN FORMATION."

A bolt of lightning hit in the forest that surrounded the base. The rainy night was lit up by a giant flash of blue.

"All six of you, on your faces, NOW!" At first his voice seemed calm, but got more aggressive as the sentence finished. The squad leaders fell to their faces while Kiley once again refused, and once again, got a foot in her knee.

Kast, still dazed, stood in line, thankful that the instructor's attention was no longer turned on him. As he watched, however, he realized he had gotten off easy. This child was getting murdered! His first impulse was to run out, to stop the madness, but very quickly he realized that it wouldn't do any good. He was forced to watch in horror, vowing to himself to do something one day...

No sooner had she whispered the message than a gruff pair of hands pulled her roughly from the line. An instructor was holding her by the back of the shirt as the others started screaming at the other girl out in front. Cyriah was standing on tip-toe, but still the collar of her thin shirt was choking her. She was trembling, but gradually fear turned to rage as she realized this girl was being punished because of something Cyriah did. They were playing a dangerous game here, and only the instructors knew the rules.

When one of them called for the children to get on the ground, the man holding her all but shoved her into that position. She barely had time to get her hands out and catch herself. Spotting the blood on the other girl's lips triggered another wave of fury, but she held herself in check, merely glowering up at the lead instructor, waiting for the next order.

The rain, despite cold and numbing, did serve at least one useful purpose. As the tears dripped out of Samantha's eye and fell onto her soft cheek, they blended in with the raindrops - the perfect mask. She did not try to hide them or hold them back as she watched their tormentors beat up on several of the front kids, for that would have only brought attention and in the rain they were invisible.

Brad, however, was trying to figure out what was going on. It seemed as if the men were holding the front kids as leaders, responsible for those behind them. So I need to get to the front then...

The head instructor screamed at them to flip over, and then he kicked the girl that had caused the trouble. He glanced at his watch, and his face turned into a scowl. They needed to be somewhere soon, and he didn't have the time to finish destroying this kid.

"You four," he pointed at the squad leaders, "go the fuck away."

He stood there waiting for four new squad leaders to appear. If they didn't show up soon, he was going to start getting even nastier.

The kid in front of him was annoying Ossal with his sniveling. When the grown up told the four kids he was beating on to go away and seemed to be waiting for something, he took the opportunity to shove the brat forward when the man who's voice's lowest tone seemed to be a yell looked somewhat away. If the man held to form, he'd be wailing on the crier very soon.

Nemo continued to face forward, staying quiet. Even then he fully expected to be yelled at for doing something wrong.

Brad stood at attention, watching the men deal with their "leaders."

Suddenly, the man yelled out, "You four... go the fuck away," and four of the leaders scrambled to get away from his ire.

Something in the back of his mind told him that moving to the front and assuming their role would only be inviting trouble, but he did so anyway. A few brisk steps from his spot in line brought him from the back to the front, standing in the spot one of the kids had previously occupied.

Samantha, however, looked on nervously...

As the "leaders" were tossed aside, Kast watched a boy from his line slowly walk up to take the front. Now why would he do that?, Kast wondered. So far that's been nothing but trouble. Sure, they seem to be considering you a leader, but you get blamed for everything. As Kast looked on, he noticed a young girl in front of him, looking much more nervous than everyone else. Nervous for the boy? Wait...she and the boy looked similar...brother and sister. Or twins, maybe.

The instructor had his four new squad leaders, and his face remained an ice cold glare. The rain made it hard to see his face for anyone that wasn't in the front few rows.

"Follow me," he told Kiley.

She stood there in dumbfound silence.

"FUCKING SAY SOMETHING, AYE SIR, YES SIR, NO SIR, FUCK YOU, ANYTHING!" He screamed at her silence.

She was taken aback a little, but then screamed, "AYE SIR," as loud as she could.

He started walking at a fast past. It was hard for the children to keep up with how fast he was moving, but if they ran they could barely stay with him. He stopped at an old warehouse, and opened the door.

"You will grab one bag, it will contain everything you need for now."

Kiley started to go in, when she paused and stepped to the side. She looked at the squad leaders, and pointed at one of them. "You, start walking, and get your line to follow you," she pointed at the next one, "when his line is done, you start your line."

The instructor held back his surprise at the child's initiative.

"You, start walking, and get your line to follow you."

When the girl spoke and pointed at him, Brad was quite surprised that she was indicating for his line to go in first. However, the initial shock was short-lived and soon Brad was walking forward, leading his line to the door of the warehouse.

When he arrived at the door, Brad stepped aside and turned to face his line. "You know what to do!" he said loudly, hoping they could remember even the simplest of commands from a moment ago.

Samantha, though remaining perfectly still in line, watched her brother lead his line nervously...

Kiley watched all the other "students" grab their bag. She went in after everyone else. When she got hers, it was a large nondescript green seabag, stuffed full of lumpy things. It was heavy, large, and awkward to carry. She stepped outside and the instructors had already herded everyone back into the formation, not that she couldn't hear the screaming inside the building. She moved as fast as she could to the front of the formation, half dragging her bag. The instructor took off at another fast pace, and Kiley led the formation behind him.

Brad entered the building after his line and grabbed one of the heavy bags off the rack. Without even looking inside, it seemed like all they would be receiving for the duration of their "stay" there would be a spartan set of necessities.

As he exited the building and strode quickly to the front of his line to retake his position as the "squad leader," Brad noticed that it would be a bit too heavy for comfort if they moved much faster - something they proved to be doing only moments later. While hustling, the bag would smack into their sides, and anything awkwardly shaped would dig in uncomfortably.

He didn't dare look back - not with the soldiers being overly aggressive, the quick pace demanding his attention, and the weight of the bag boring into his shoulder and side - but he knew that Samantha, having less muscular development than he, would be having even more trouble at carrying the bag. But this, they both knew, was only the beginning to this nightmare...

Nemo quietly followed, upon entering the building with the others he grabbed one of the bags. It was heavy and he had to use his full strength to pick it up. Also, it was very awkward to carry as he headed back out to stand in line once again.

Ossal found the bag weighty and unpleasently balance-upsetting but still managed to get it on and moving forward. He found himself in the front of the line for his 'line leader' was slowly falling behind as he struggled with the pack. In fact had Ossal bothered to look back it would seem he was getting steadily away from the others as they either struggled or assisted each other, but he didn't for he just didn't care to make the effort.

They walked, more of ran, through the streets of the base. Kiley noticed another group of students as they were hustling through the streets. The platoon looked like they had been there a while. Stoney faces, the one thousand yard stare, bruises, and incredibly rigid bodies. Several of the students were being screamed at by the instructors, their faces showed no emotion of any kind, they were used to it, and it no longer phased them. Just as they turned the corner she watched one of them get kicked hard enough to move him several feet.

The lead instructor stopped outside of a long building. It seemed that no sooner than they stopped that the world exploded with screaming soldiers. Once again they all seemed to be screaming at them to to the opposite thing as the others. Kiley took a venture at what to do. She looked at the squad leaders and pointed at the door on the building, indicating she wanted them to take their squads inside.

The building was simple, it was long and wide room, full of bunk beds. At the far end there was a room marked "HEAD" in big bold letters, across from this room there were two other rooms, one unmarked, the other marked "BIG GEAR."

Kiley was the first student in the building, and she moved as fast as she could to take a bed. She stopped in front of the first bed, the one closest to the unmarked room, she set her bag down, and stood in front of the bed, waiting for something to happen. She was a bit unnerved because no instructors were around, yet.

Before the rest of the kids entered another truck pulled up, this one was very beat up, and two men in combat gear stepped out of the truck, as the passenger walked past the headlights of the still running truck it was easy to see the desert camouflage they were wearing and it looked very out of place against the gray night and pouring rain.

They walked around to the back of the pick-up and one popped the tailgate open. The other woke up a child sitting in the bed.

“Wake up, you bastard.” He yelled at the child. Then he hit him in the stomach.

“Go to hell.” The rough looking six year old told the soldier.

The soldier grabbed the child by the shoulders and yelled into his face “What the fuck did you say to me, bastard??!!!”

A few things happened very quickly then, the child noticed a sheath for a knife as he was being grabbed and yelled at, while he was unable to move his shoulders all he needed to grab the knife was a movement of his forearms. He made a quick jab into the soldier’s arm that was holding his right shoulder. The soldier then dropped him down to the truck bed and screamed out in pain. “Bastard!” he yelled.

As the soldier who got stabbed began to yell the other soldier drew his 9mm pistol and popped of a shot at the kid. But, simultaneously as he was dropped, the stabbed soldier screamed, and the shot was fired the child lost balance and fell down on his back onto the truck bed and out of the bullets trajectory.

As the stabbed soldier screamed, he held up his arm in pain but did not move from where he was standing, as he no longer had the kid as a shield, the bullet hit him squarely in the chest knocking him to the ground. A Kevlar vest, however, saved his life.

About a half second later a few other soldiers came to investigate as well as a drill sergeant who had been overseeing everything. He snickered at the situation that had just unfolded.

Then he yelled some mess of swears at the man who had shot at the child, about how it was totally unnecessary, and that the man was a total failure, and so on, for about 20 seconds. He then dismissed the other soldiers and turned his attention to the child. He grabbed him by the right arm and held him up off the ground and out of the truck. He did not realize the child was left handed and as he lifted him he was greeted with a swift hook to the nose.

It was enough to make the DS yell in pain, but not to release his grip on the child.

The DS looked up and with is free hand whipped blood from his nose. At the same time the child heard the injured soldier who was lying beside the truck moan in pain “Bastard, bastard, bastard.”

The child pulled away from the DS who had accidentally let his feet touch the ground in the struggle, and kicked the soldier in the face, and then yelled at him in that weird way children yell when upset about something that angers them, “My name’s not bastard!!!” Then in a strange tone, almost polite, he finished: “It’s Axel.”

“Well, Axel, you seem to have 11 months training under your belt already, you injured two men by yourself. Very Good.” The drill sergeants compliment/ lamentation almost scared Axel because he’d been so focused on the downed soldier. “Let’s get you a bag.”

The DS still held Axel in a firm grip, but Axel had decided that if all that didn’t get him free, that nothing he could do, with out his own gun, would. The DS shuffled through the truck’s cab and pulled out a green cloth bag, full of bulk and a little heavier than the ones the others carried, with a name written on it that matched the name plate Axel had noticed on the soldier who had been shot and stabbed. Axel was glad he understood irony as well as karma. They had been two of his uncle’s favorite concepts, and he’d lived with his uncle since he was 2 and a half. Axel just smiled, carried his bag followed the DS, and got ready to go into the room. When he entered he was relived to see the sign: ‘HEAD’ in more ways than one.

As Brad entered the building with his squad, he quickly realized that this would be their sleeping quarters for who knew how long, so he'd have to learn to sleep with a bunch of other kids only feet away and where there was no privacy to be had.

Not sure where the best place was to be, he decided that being far from the entrance gave him a better chance of being farther from the men when they entered; however, not knowing what the doors on the opposite end of the room lead to or what was behind them, he decided on tossing his bag down on a bed near the middle of the column - not too far and not too close.

Deciding on the top bunk, he sat down on the bed below it so that nobody would be able to claim it other than his sister. Samantha walked in near the end of the fourth line and looked pretty bad. Worn down and exhausted, she hobbled her way to where her eyes had caught sight of her brother and tossed the bag down accordingly...

Nemo followed in behind. Silently he walked near to where Brad was and placed his bag on top of the nearby bunk. From there he stood and awaited the next orders. His eyes were cold, his face emotionless.

Ossal entered the building, later than some and sooner than others, including most of those who'd been in the same line as he had. Looking about at the sights of the others taking various bunks prompted him to move to the far end and placing his heavy bag on one of the bottom ones near the unlabled door.

While waiting for the adults to start screaming again for stupid reasons he decided to open the door to the room labled Big Gear and peek as to what was inside.

Axel was one of the last to enter, he’d of been the last, but he rushed ahead to use the bathroom. After emptying his bladder into the grungy toilet he reentered the room only to see that every bunk was full accept the on where the door opened. Right where the ‘teachers’ would enter, far enough back that they couldn’t over look it, and it was on the side that the door opened away from, so there was no protection from the door itself. Also, he found the top bunk occupied, so he would be in the bottom. The top would have been a little better as it was slightly above average eye level. “Damn it.” He muttered. He knew every cuss word there was, and a few that only existed in his and his uncle’s mind, because his uncle was a drunk, and cursed constantly.

He really didn’t see cuss words as wrong, and he wouldn’t until much later in life, because his uncle had been his only role model. So while he swore like a Marine, but he didn’t realize he did, it would get him into trouble many times later. He noticed the door marked ‘BIG GEAR’ and assumed it was full of, well, gear that was big, regardless of what it was really, he was much more interested in the unmarked doors. Axel had found that what you’re not told is often what you most want to know.

In his mind, Kast wondered if he could manage a quick rest on the bunk. The adults wern't here yet...no. It was too risky. Forcing aching shoulders up from off the bed, he took a quick glance at the children around him. He was on the lower bunk (he had a secret fear of sleeping on the top bunk) next to the pair he supposed were twins. He looked at the boy who had apparently claimed the bunk above him and quickly averted his eyes. The boy's face held no expression. Kast shuddered, hoping that he would never be like that.