Journal Entry: June 18, 200-, 21:45
It's been over a year since I lost them. A year of sleepless nights, haunted by their faces. Each night, I dream of my darling Rachel's smile, of my baby Claire's laughter, only to wake up to the harsh reality of this godforsaken camp.
Rachel was everything to me. Her touch, her voice, her presence kept me sane in this insane world. And Claire... she was my little angel. Her giggles used to be the soundtrack of my mornings. Now, silence is all I have left.
Now I'm in the military. Special division. Hazardous environment combat unit. Or HECU.
They think I did it. These bastards. They joke behind my back, whispering that I'm the one who took them away. It's a sick joke. I want to murder anyone who speaks ill of them or blames me. If only they knew the pain I carry every second of every day. If only they felt the emptiness that's eating me alive.
Boot camp is hell, but it's a distraction. A cruel, relentless distraction. I throw myself into the drills, the exercises, the endless marches, trying to drown out the voices in my head. But it never works. The memories of Rachel and Claire are always there, just beneath the surface.
There's this guy, though. I've seen him watching me lately. A tall, thin man in a suit. Doesn't belong here. Must be a fed. He's always lurking, observing. Makes my skin crawl. What does he want? Why is he here? Part of me wants to confront him, but another part is too tired to care. Another mystery in a life already full of them.
The others think I'm losing it. Maybe they're right. Maybe this place is finally breaking me. But I can't stop. I won't stop. For Rachel. For Claire. I'll keep fighting, keep pushing, keep surviving.
Adrian closed his journal and slipped it under his pillow, the only place he felt it would be safe from prying eyes. The barracks were quiet tonight, a rare moment of peace. But he knew it wouldn't last. It never did.
As he lay back on his bunk, he stared at the ceiling, the faces of his wife and daughter etched into his mind. He could almost hear Rachel's voice, comforting him, telling him to be strong. He clung to that voice, letting it lull him into a restless sleep.
Tomorrow would bring more drills, more insults, more whispers. But tomorrow didn't matter. All that mattered was the promise he made to himself: to find out what happened to Rachel and Claire, and to make those responsible pay.
In the shadows outside the barracks, the man in the suit watched the G-man, his expression unreadable. He adjusted his tie and turned away, disappearing into the night. Adrian was right to be suspicious. This was no ordinary observer. And his interest in Adrian was far from benign. And you know... Ms Latronico that... when he watches its not a good thing. Is it?
Suddenly, Adrian woke up to the harsh reality of his drill sergeant's voice bellowing through the barracks.
"Shephard! Get your ass up! Someone's requested you run the basic training course again!"
Adrian groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Why? The fuck?" he muttered to himself. He had just barely managed to fall asleep, and now this. The sergeant's voice was relentless, echoing in his head like a bad hangover.
With a heavy sigh, Adrian swung his legs off the bunk and slipped on his boots. The cold, hard floor felt like a slap to his senses, waking him up more effectively than any alarm clock. He grabbed a shirt from the foot of his bed and slid it on, the fabric rough against his skin.
He didn't bother asking questions. Experience had taught him it was pointless. Orders were orders, and in the HECU, questioning them only led to more trouble. As he stood up, he noticed the other recruits giving him curious glances, whispers already spreading among them. It didn't matter. He'd deal with the rumor mill later.
