Throughout It All

31 | Just Another Day In Prison ... Not Really | November 1, 1918

OOOOOOOO SOMETHING'S GONNA HAPPEN

This is giving me flashbacks to finding a title for Chapter 5 haha. Not that they have anything in common besides an ellipses and I'm trying to make the title a tad bit funny.

I think this chapter is actually going to stay in one place. That's new haha.

Ready for it?

Enjoy! :)

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Jack and Kid Griffo aren't the same since they watched Dave Simmons die right in front of them. They felt so helpless in that moment. It's only been two days, but Jack still has the moment playing again and again in his head. For sure, this is the worst moment in the entire war for Jack. In his entire life, really.

And it's not like prison conditions are improving at all. The food is still terrible, barbed wire around them and gray skies above them, very crowded spaces, and next to no medical condition for those who came in injured, nor for those who are sick.

Or, in Dave's case, were sick.

Jack has no idea how many people have died here. Too many.

How does this work, anyway? When are they going to get out? Of course, that's the goal of the Axis--for them not to get out. But surely once the Allies win, everyone can go home, right?

Not if the Allies win. When they win.

Because Jack doesn't want to find out what will happen if they lose.

The thing is, in here, everything looks the same most days. Today isn't that different.

Except that instead of marching one new army into prison, they're marching a bunch at once, from all directions.

This is new. It's like they captured everyone fighting from all borders.

Did they?

Jack watches closely, curiously.

How are they going to fit everyone in here?

Maybe that's why the separation between armies and divisions and such stopped yesterday. They need a more open area to fit more people. Even if Jack is sure that there won't be enough space for them.

They're starting to march in through the only entrance and exit. Just a bunch of scared faces, all looking the same. Jack can't watch.

From his place he turns to look at those who are coming in from behind, who will have to be marched around to get to the front.

Jack squints at them. All of these soldiers look young, like they were a part of the first drafting registration. All except for one--one who Jack would know anywhere.

Jack stares in disbelief. "Race?" 

He didn't say it too loud, but it was enough to catch Race's attention, who probably hasn't heard that nickname in some time, because Race's head snaps to the sound of Jack's voice, and his eyes widen with surprise. "Jack?"

Suddenly, a huge smile appears on Jack's face. He almost forgot what it was like to smile like this. He wants to celebrate. He wants to jump up and down, wave his arms, chant "Race! Race! Race!" until Race comes in here. But he doesn't. He just stands there, grinning like an idiot, as he watches Race and the rest of these soldiers march in here.

The gate closes behind them, leaving all the other captured people standing outside; they must be letting only one group in at a time.

And suddenly, nothing is stopping Jack's legs from running with a burst of speed he didn't know was possible.