The Freaks

chapter twenty-five

The bell drills into my head painfully the next morning.

I groan and roll over atop the overstuffed mattress, pressing one hand to my temple and the other over my exposed ear as I bury my face more firmly into the pillow to try and drown out the obnoxious noise. It works, but only slightly.

Once the bell finally stops its torcher against my mind do I remove my hand from my ear, hearing the same loud groans and sighs from the Soldiers around me. If that didn't annoy everyone, I don't know what will.

Being a Soldier the day after yesterday isn't a nice feeling. I rub the sleep from the corners of my eyes and sit up in bed, squinting into the harsh, bright light all around me. The Soldiers on their own beds look to be doing the same thing, even slower than me.

The quarters we sleep in have this stupid system, one I would like to disable as soon as possible; when the morning bell sounds, all of the main lights turn on so there is no sleeping in and missing breakfast. I detest it. The quicker I finish this mission, the better.

Nox sits up from his own bed next to mine, blinking a few times at the covers in front of him, then at the Soldiers before him like he can't remember where he is. After a moment, he turns his head to glance in my direction, giving me the view of his fresh black eye. The wounds around his jaw and mouth are still raw, but they are no longer bleeding. He touches the skin there gingerly, trying and failing to cover up a wince.

I remove the covers from my legs and swing them off the side of the bed, shivering when the cold stone touches my skin. Nox does the same from next to me, but much quicker. And that's when I notice the tattoo on his back, right where his scar should be. Esmay must have given Nox a temporary tattoo as well.

The design is simple; a round blue and black marking that creates such a familiar symbol that I think I may recognize. The way Esmay painted it almost makes it look grungy, but it suits the sign a lot. When I stare at the tattoo for a moment longer, I realize where I've seen this before. The symbol means something is radioactive; it's a small circle where his scar should be in the centre of three of the same shapes.

It's very fitting, for what happened to us. 

The air in here is definitely tenser than it ever has been before. The old, up-beat feeling the Soldiers gave off ever since I have been here is now gone, replaced with the actual representation of what must be going through their hungover minds at the moment. I didn't even have much to drink last night, but I still feel something akin to what they're feeling.

The Soldiers start for the dining hall quickly. I dress into my uniform in a matter of seconds, following behind Nox and the rest of them.

When we came back from the club, Hartman instructed us to get some sleep. The Soldier on the DJ's table made it seem like it was something important. But it just seems like the few Freaks I saved from the prison are pushed to the back of Hartman's mind. The Soldiers around me don't know about the Freaks I broke out. They weren't told when we came back last night. Maybe Hartman is waiting for a perfect time to tell us. I doubt it. That's something he would tell us as soon as possible.

Since I'm alive right now, it means they don't know that it was me who saved those Freaks from being trapped inside here. Good. I need to keep it that way. The moment I see Hartman open his mouth to speak about me saving the Freaks, then it will be the last thing he ever says.

Breakfast passes quickly. The usual porridge they served us had the same, bland taste to it, but I still ate it quickly to ease the hunger in my stomach and hopefully soak up the remaining alcohol in my system. The Soldiers were silent during the entire duration of breakfast. It's like their heads are still pounding like mine is.