Breaking out of Area 51

Chapter 2

A while later, the alarm sounded, indicating we were being let out for lunch. It wasn't so much for us but to warn the guards we were coming.

I jumped up straight away and waited impatiently by the door, hoping it would open today; I really wanted lunch.

Thankfully it did, and I joined the other kids from this section to the hall.

The same as always, straight, take a right, straight, take a left, straight and take a right into the cafeteria.

I lined up silently behind roughly twenty other children, and another twenty were already seated. Everyone got the same thing, a few boiled potatoes, a spoonful of sweetcorn and some beans.

But when it came to my turn, my plate had even less on. "Where are my beans?" I tried asking, but the guard leant forward and hissed, "you don't get beans, now sit down".

They were always doing this; at this point I'm lucky I even get food. They must think I'm younger because of my size or I'd be gone by now. Either way, within the next year, I will be anyway.

I sit on the same table as always with three other equally dishevelled kids, the only friends I have in this place.

"Hey", whispered carter from across the table. He was easily the smallest in the group with tiny, skinny arms and sunken eyes, but he somehow still had the childlike curiosity kids that age are meant to have. Though he's had to mature a lot quicker, we think he's about nine years old, one of the younger ones.

"Why don't you have beans?" He asked, "not hungry?" He stated seriously, but we all knew he was joking.

I chuckled, "why do you think I have less food?".

One of the girls spoke up now; she was older than carter, maybe around ten or eleven, but she couldn't remember her name before she was here, so everyone calls her 'H' because she's number one hundred.

"It's wrong they give you less because your older! They hate us anyway, but I don't see why they hate us even more as we grow up. It's not like we can do anything with these stupid collars". She instinctively pulled at hers as she said it.

I just shrugged and slowly ate my food, trying to be as slow as possible to trick myself into thinking I'm full. Of course, it never works, but what's the harm in trying?

"You know what else it could be?" Said Harley. She always sat at the end because she very rarely had anything to say, but when she did, we listened. "It could be they're extra scared of you. None of us know what you can do; you won't tell us", she stated simply before going back to eat.

"She's right", said H. "They've always treated you badly. I get it easier, which makes sense because all I can do is-" she stopped to look around before leaning back in to whisper, "put up force fields".

Everyone put their heads down, scared someone else had heard, but when it seemed they didn't, carter spoke again, "that makes sense because it's a purely defensive power. Harley can set things on fire which is purely offensive, and I can be somewhere in the middle".

"What's your power again?" Asked H, but carter just looked into her eyes with a small smile, "I can disappear", he whispered.

Despite being only nine, Carter had extensive knowledge of all things powers related and had to fight himself back whenever he wanted to talk about it. He loved his gift, even though he's been taught to hate it. I hope that stays with him.

"Which means", started H, "that yours, Andy, has to be really good at attacking, more than Harley's fire".

Carter thought, "I don't think so". The others stared at him funny, so he carried on. "I think your power can attack very well. But I think it's equally hard to get to you too. I heard about a kid here who everyone thinks is around fourteen, and he can manipulate the air around him. He can put up force fields like you H, but he can also move things, such as sending these trays flying across the room. That's pretty good, but he still gets treated better than you Andy. So you must be strong".

The other two looked over, but I just put my head down and moved the food around the plate. Unlike Carter, I hated using the curse that plagued my body. I'd give it up in a second if it meant I could leave and go back to sipping that sweet drink on the steps with that woman.

Thankfully the chestnut-haired boy walked in and stole their attention. He was accompanied by two guards to get his food and proceeded to sit on his own table as he usually did.

"I hate how well he's treated", complained H, "he doesn't even have to shave his hair!"

Carter sighed, "yea, but we all know it's because he can't do anything special like us, what have they got to be scared of?"

"It doesn't make sense," I said, once again joining the conversation. "The entire world died, and the only survivors had powers like us or were lucky and rich enough to find bunkers. So how did he survive?"

Although he was a very curious person, Carter didn't seem to care much about this boy. None of us even knew his name, and most of the kids hated him. He never spoke, everyone says he's mute, and he's always allowed to roam the prison whenever he wants. He's stuck here too, but with a lot more freedom.

I finished my food and watched him. He was really small, but his face looked older. A small number of freckles lay across his nose and cheeks, and his hair rested above his eyebrows. I think he's about twelve, maybe thirteen; it's hard to tell sometimes. He looks around the same age as Harley, but we don't know how old she is either, so that doesn't help.

I wonder if he is mute or if he's just scared to speak to any of us. Sometimes, when the latch on my door slips, I can see him through the small gap the tray gets passed through. He sits down the corridor slightly and is always reading a different book.

Some of the kids who aren't deemed as dangerous sometimes get books, but never as many as he gets.

I know how to read, but I would love to have books in here with me. At least I could go somewhere else for a while.

I'm still staring when he suddenly looks up. He looked scared at first, but his expression changed to something I couldn't recognise. He stared back, and neither of us looked away until the guards from around the room started moving.

Everyone went still and kept their heads down, hoping they did nothing wrong.

The guards came over and surrounded me. I broke eye contact with the boy and looked at them just as they leant forward and grabbed me, dragging my body off the chair and out of the room, shouting the whole way.

Just as I was leaving, I managed to glance back, and I saw a different look on his face. His lips were parted in an 'o' shape, but he also looked angry. Was he angry at me? Or the guards?

They threw me back into my cell and screamed, "you do not look around! You face your eyes to the floor if you want to keep them!" Before slamming the door shut.