The Attack: Seashell Island

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning I woke up at seven, which is pretty early for me, considering the fact that I've been getting up at ten lately. I knew there had to be a rehabilitation room. I mean didn't all hospitals have a recovery room with a jogging machine, maybe a few weights.

"Excuse me miss, just wondering where the rehabilitation room is?" I smiled, the lady wore a normal, green, nurses uniform. She gave me a warm smile, her dark hair met her waist and her face was pale. Monica. For a split second I saw Monica again, her warm smile, dark long hair, pale face then I came back to reality. Monica was gone.

"Sure kiddo, just walk down the hall, across the dinning hall, take another left, then go straight until you see the red door. Sorry it's not much!" she walked off.

She was right; all the room held was a flat exercise ball, a dust-layered jogging machine, a step and two lousy three-kilogram weights. How could I train for this war thing when I only had this? I wasn't allowed outside because the Pirates still think I'm dead, it's best they think that rather then hunting me down. I assumed I would just have to use what I had.

Apart from the few exercise items, the room also held random items such as, a broken guitar, a flat football, a mug with the handle broken off, a kite, an ancient looking record, five red candles, a boot, and boxes upon boxes of things that weren't at all organised. (I had checked three of them.) Maybe like Maddie had said the training could just be doing everyday things, I could organise the room. There was a lot of work to do as well. I could probably build a shelf to store that pile of books against the wall. I would ask Mr Parsons if I could chuck the useless things like the broken guitar or maybe I could fix it.

I had pushed everything to one side of the room and started working on a shelf by lunchtime. Mr Parsons had given me a bit of timber and the basic tools such as a saw, a screwdriver, a ruler, those measuring square things and a hammer. My dad taught me how to build a simple shelf when I was nine, so I knew what I was doing. I had just set up a bench so I could saw the timber to the right size, when I heard a sharp knock on the door.

"Yeah come in," I called.

The door was opened quickly, it was Maddie.

"Seth I've been looking for you all morning, why didn't you let me know?" her eyes shimmered in fury.

"Look, look," I tried not to laugh, "I'm sorry, I just needed to start my training, I'm getting a little carried away with this project I guess," I smiled at Maddie she didn't seem so mad now, though her brow still furrowed in confusion.

"Seth, you can't fight" Maddie frowned.

"What? Of course I can fight," I brushed my hair out of my face.

"Your too young they need adults, besides you only just recovered," Maddie argued.

"They didn't mention that, and I'm okay now," I scowled.

"Seth I highly doubt they'll let kids join up," Maddie was mad again.

"Why are you so against me fighting, it was your idea to fight anyway," I shouted.

"If you, well..." Maddie yelled, "you could get killed or worse..." she whispered now.

"Well I won't, I promise," I spoke seriously.

"You wouldn't understand," Maddie stared at the ground.

"Well not if you don't tell me?" I begged.

"I couldn't bear it if you died," her voice breaking.

"Then I had better train, so I don't," I said bluntly. It stung. Then I turned back to my work, by the time I had gotten the right size timber Maddie had left. Monica's voice replayed in the back off my head