Dust

Chapter 1

It hurt. The vibro-wand jammed into my spine. My right arm, already well bruised, was being contorted nearly to the point of dislocation behind me. Pain. Everything is pain. The throbbing in my head was almost unbearable. It was making my teeth ache. The man in the olive and grey prison garb behind me gave my contorted arm a merciless jerk. At my clenched growl, the man's partner gave an oily chuckle.

"I think he likes it, Mervyn. I think pretty boy likes it hard and painful." From behind me, Mervyn grunted but said nothing, and instead answered by grinding the vibro-wand into my vertebrae until I let out a howl of agony as white hot embers of anguish shot down my back, making my knees buckle.

"Don't fall, pretty boy," Mervyn's voice in my ear was cold and mocking, the breath that slid across my face a putrid mix of cheap brandy and rotting teeth. " Cause if you drop to your knees, I'll fill that pretty mouth with my meat and drown ya with what my blue balls got saved up, no doubt. I reckon I haven't had a roll in the sack since this war began, and you're a might cleaner than anything else in this shithole."

The smell of his breath made my empty stomach turn and my mouth was too twisted in pain to reply had I wanted to. The pitifully lit corridor with it's stench of urine and damp seemed to yawn and stretch for a mile or more, every ten steps an identical cell flashed by on both sides. Murmurs and groans and giggles drifted out from within them, echoing madly off the cold block walls; I concentrated on the pain. Mervyn's friend barked at someone within one of the soulless chambers. The pain. I can feel the pain. I am not the madness of this place. This war. This loss. I am only this pain.

As if his brain had suddenly caught up to the conversation, Mervyn's partner's wheezy voice inquired "I didn't know you was into boys Merv. Ya know, if that's the case, I could always. . ."

"Shut up." Mervyn's clipped reply announced our arrival at our destination. "Yah ok," his comrade muttered as I turned my head and found myself looking into his tar colored eyes. His skin was droopy and unwashed, the side of his face bore a spectacular scar that ran from his eyelid to his cracked lips. He looked as worse for wear as any inmate in War Prison 33. He regarded my grimacing countenance for a moment before turning his mouth up into a gap toothed leer. "You're right, Merv. He sure is, , ,"

"Open the fucking cell, Deel." Mervyn's tone was sinister, and Deel lurched forward with a slight wimper, lifting a thin arm and placing a grubby hand upon the smooth pale square beside the cell door. The area around his hand glowed a faint blue and with a ka-chink, the cell door unlocked and swung inward. The heel of Mervyn's hand collided with my back and I careened into the inky cavity. My bound hands raised instinctively in front of me did little to break my fall as I met the floor with a sharp blow to the wrists and elbows. Pain, I thought again, leaning heavily on the training of my youth. You must keep a focused mind. If there is nothing else to focus on, focus on the pain." The floor was cool stone, and I was surprised at how good it felt on my aching limbs. I could taste sweat on my lips, the salty moisture was the only liquid I had touched since my capture back at the farm. Mother! Anna Belle! And father is. . .no! Focus. You must focus. You must survive this. You were trained to survive this. I need to get back. Father isn't−". Something metallic clanged to the floor next to my head. A bitter smelling liquid sloshed out of it and splattered against my cheek, sticking to it like paste.

"Lunch" Mervyn supplied in a flat, bored tone. "Enjoy our fine dining here at War Prison 33. Cold rice porridge with Sopa beans. No sharing with your cell mate. And no eating rats, you'll get bugs and I aint gonna clean up after ya. Let yer ass rot off soon as anything."

I managed to flop onto my back in time to see Merrvyn's face looming over me. I blinked up at the weathered visage, noted the half feral light in the watery grey eyes, the stench of tobacco and soiled clothing that emanated from him. He regarded me from his straddled position above me, his stare an unreadable blankness that caused the stone floor below me to feel far cooler than I knew it was.