Noah bounced around in the heavy military truck, his eyes wide open, with six other kids around his age, their features barely distinguishable in the pale red glow from the overhead lights. Despite the poor lighting, he could still tell that there were three girls and three boys not including himself. They were all strapped in tight seats on the walls of the cramped vehicle. Every one of them looked as bad as he did. A couple even looked worse, and he was sure that they had all seen horrors as he had. He looked at one of the boys and when he was able to focus, was shocked at what he thought he saw. It looked as if he had horns, but he was so dazed, he wasn't sure if he could trust his eyes. The bullet wound on his back blazed with pain, redirecting his attention. He noticed some others with similar wounds to his own. Scars from combat knives, or disfigurations. One of them, a girl, had more scars than some soldiers. She looked as if she had been severely beaten her whole life. Instead of bullet wounds or thin lacerations, she had wide red scars, blue bruises and fresh welts still bleeding. Noah didn't have such wounds. He had always been kept away from the war by his family, which he was grateful for, but looking at the others he couldn't help but feel like he hadn't endured as much as them. But then he remembered.
Noah tried to keep his eyes open, every blink was a glimpse at his past. Only 13 years old and he was already subject to traumatic memories. As strenuously as he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes open forever. Dust collected on his dry irises, stinging horribly, but no tears came to moisten them. Minutes passed.
Blink. His family.
Minutes more.
Blink. Flash of blinding light. Intense heat.
Minutes more.
Blink. Screaming. Agony. He's running toward it.
Minutes more.
Blink. Bodies. Death.
He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. They shut against his will and the memories flooded in, as vivid as the day he'd witnessed them.
His home is gone. It's just debris and fire. "A bomb?" He thinks. He looks around, hoping, pleading. Where is his family? Where are his parents? His brothers, his sisters, where are they? He hears a scream, high and shrill. He bolts toward the sound, it sounded like his sister.
His eyes fly open. Tears finally flow from his eyes, though no sounds escape his lips. Every blink was torture and would be for the rest of his life. He tried to refocus his mind on something, anything else.
Geoclyl. He remembered the name. They were the ones who put them all in the truck. They had promised a better life, one that didn't revolve around war. Noah couldn't believe that. Life was nothing but war. Nothing but pain. It would never be otherwise. Still, he had nothing, so he was willing to risk everything, even if the promise seemed incomprehensible.
The truck hit a large bump that sent searing pain through his body as his back slammed against the metal wall behind him. A door to his right slid open and a woman in green scrubs ducked through. Behind her, Noah saw that the driving compartment was through the door. The door closed behind the woman and she set her bag on an empty seat. Though she was very short, she still had to duck in the tiny passenger compartment. Instead of using a seat, the woman used hand holds on the ceiling to keep her balance. She opened her bag and started speaking, not bothering to look at any one of the seven kids.
"We've almost arrived at our destination. Don't worry, you're all safe now." She finally looked up from her bag, making eye contact with each one of them as she spoke. "I must warn you that Geoclyl will be... difficult. We promised you a life away from war, and that promise will be kept, however, there is a large price to be paid before that happens. You are all here because we offered you something unheard of." She paused, "Hope."
She returned her attention to her bag and began rummaging through it. Eventually she pulled out a syringe with clear liquid in it. "This will ease your pain. It's the least we can do for now, until we arrive. Does anyone have any questions?" When no one even seemed to acknowledge her, she nodded and began going around, injecting the liquid into the arms of each passenger. When it was Noah's turn, he was surprised to find himself completely uncaring of what it was. He knew deep down that he shouldn't trust the lady, but what was the worst that could happen? They'd die? He was fine with that.
"What is this stuff anyway?" One of the boys asked. Finally someone had found the strength to speak up.
The lady didn't answer at first, instead she continued going around. When she got to one of the girls, the one with the red welts, she shook her head. "Answer the question." Her voice was weak.
The lady looked at the girl. "Brianna. That's your name isn't it?" The girl just nodded. "And Josh, right?" She asked, turning to the boy who had asked the question.
"Yeah." He croaked.
"It's a powerful pain reliever. It'll put you to sleep for a little while, just until we arrive. It's important to us that you all be as pain free as possible, so we will sedate you and heal your wounds before you wake up. But when you do, it will be as if your wounds had never existed." She didn't bother asking if they still wanted the injection, she just continued her rounds, getting no further objections.
Noah felt the liquid affecting him, making him tired. He instinctively fought it, but his body eventually gave in to its effects. Unconsciousness took control of his mind and body.
