The Reluctant Prophet

The Camps

Many of the camps started as quarantine facilities turned into something else. They were a despicable endeavor that resembled a mix between the Japanese internment camps and an old school prison yard. Schools had been fenced in with chain link and barb wire surrounded by flood lights that ran on loud generators, kept on from dawn to dusk as a form of psychological control. They were run by ruthless uncaring soldiers and their commanders that cared more about the sport of making people fight for food than rather or not they were guilty of some crime, or even survived. People arrived by the bus load accused of one crime or another, mostly consisting of unfounded threats against the greater good. The real criminals shot in the street as examples for the rest. The camps would hold these supposed threats until their trials, if they would even get a trial. The court system for such mass numbers simply did not exist and deaths were common, often going unreported. Between the brutality of the guards, the fights over supplies, non-existent medical care, unsanitary conditions, and lack of food death were ultimately inevitable. There was a cover for everything, or people simply didn't ask. Those that did very quickly found the answers themselves from inside the camp walls. When it came down to the greater good people simply didn't look beyond the surface to see the real price they had to pay. After all when entire families are taken there is no one left to ask what happened. It was just another person in non compliance.

"I was expecting more out of you after having been read in by your commander." Her hands cuffed-clasped in front of her, her eyes closed, she said nothing. "Why so quiet?" He probed, his gun pushed into her thigh as though it would protect him.

"I'm praying." She replied not opening her eyes. Paying little attention to him or where they were going. She didn't need to see the road to know the path she was on.

"That's another infraction." She ignored him, keeping herself focused. "Your God can't help you now. He can't help anyone." He pushed searching for a way to get in her head like he had done to so many before her.

"There are plenty of things to pray to, without praying directly to God." She opens her eyes looking at the guard. "Ever think this is part of the plan?" She smirks at the guards lack of concern, going back to her prayer. They arrive at the elementary school she once went to as a child. It had been completely rebuilt since she was young, almost seeming to have been made for this purpose. "So this is how we are going to play this game." She remarked having deja vu about this place. She was never entirely certain about what she saw until it was undeniably, physically in front of her. The guards drug her out of the SUV pushing her against the fence with enough force she bounced back slightly. "I want to talk to your commanding officer." She demanded as she took a hard right hook to the gut from the guard that was uncuffing her. "Ok then." Knowing what was coming there was no way she was simply going to take it. She swung back catching the guard in the jaw knocking him to the ground. Immediately jumped by three others Aurora took punches to the ribs, face, and stomach. She planted her feet firmly against one man's chest thrusting him backwards several feet screaming in pain from the injury to her ankle. Twisting her hips she managed to knock the one on her right to the ground with her right leg, the follow through having just enough force to plant her palm firmly on the left guard's head smacking it into the fence's steel support post. "I asked nicely to see your Lord Master." She repeats herself as she slowly stands wiping away the blood from her lip.

"Ask and you shall receive." A man in an army uniform hands a clipboard to a grunt as he steps forward. She looked him over trying to decide how he would fit into what she had seen; average height, medium build, greying around the edges of his high and tight military haircut. "How can I help you, Aurora?"

"No offense sir but you are not the person in charge here, I'd like to speak to him." She keeps her weight completely on her right leg trying not to seem as injured as she was.