Rebels

Ch. 2

In the meantime, Jack would have to row. Just before the ship had begun its journey, a man who was heavily indebted had sat next to Jack. It was the man's first time. Jack knew the man's hand would be sore for a few days. The rule was, once you were caught for the first time, you were branded with a mark on your hand. This way, the officials could keep an eye on the ones who posed as a threat or the ones who had been a former prisoner.

The same large man who had checked everyone while they were boarding the ship now held a large belt in his hand, supervising the prisoners on the ship. Anyone who slacked off suffered three lashes. Any prisoner who disobeyed received ten lashes. If anyone got sick, they'd be left to die. Jack knew the routine. Caught more talking than you were working and you'd receive five lashes. When he was last in this position, he had had to get six lashes, because he had slacked off on purpose two times in one day. Rowing became very difficult after your back was broken open.

The man who was heavily indebted was throwing Jack and everyone else in their row off, shaking while speaking to himself out of fear. The man with the whip was near the front of the ship, so Jack knew he had time to try to save the poor man from getting whipped. As he pushed the stick of the paddle forward and brought it back, he leaned towards the man. "You might want to settle down, or you'll get us all in trouble."

"Y-you don't... Unders-stand." He stuttered, performing the mechanical-like movements of the rowing.

Jack sighed, pushing the stick forward. By now the man with the whip had turned around, slowly heading towards the back of the ship, towards them. "Stop shaking."

"I had to... S-sell my f-family. T-this is the end... For me." He sucked in a loud breath.

Jack bit his tongue in frustration, looking to Arin for suggestions. Arin kept his head down, rowing as hard as he could to keep himself out of trouble. He had already suffered enough from what it looked like.

Jack was on his own. The large man was almost to them, so he knew this was his last chance. "It's not the end. Just keep quiet, and you'll make it."

This only made the man cry louder, bringing the large man with the whip to his attention. "Hey! Get back to work!" He shouted.

Jack quickly lowered his head, pushing and pulling the paddle, his arms burning. He closed his eyes, feeling bad for the man sitting next to him. He could hear the man's cries ringing in his ears as the man received three lashes. Jack himself was familiar with the sound, but he had never wanted to hear it again since he had last received his lashes from when he previously had been captured. He remembered the pain, and he remembered the fury that followed afterwards.

When the man was done receiving his lashes, the large guy with the whip gave him another warning before turning and heading back towards the front of the ship. Jack leaned over to the man who was now struggling to maneuver the panel. "Don't retaliate."

The man didn't respond as he continued to sob quietly, but worked harder than before. Jack sighed, not wanting to hear the man sob the rest of the journey. He focused on his work to be done, trying not to focus on his arms beginning to lose their strength. Outside the ship, he could hear the rain beginning to pound harder against the wood, and his ears picked up distant thunder.

"It's gonna get rough." Arin uttered under his breath, pretending he wasn't talking at all and continuing to look forward.

Jack continued to look down, playing the role of innocence. "If we're lucky enough, we'll all drown."

Arin stifled a small imitation of a laugh. "You know, ever since I was brought here I've been fighting back."

Jack risked a glance at the overseer, finding he was almost at the front of the ship. "Why go through the trouble?"

"Because if I keep on retaliating, it shows that the fight isn't over yet." He said in all seriousness. "I haven't lost against you people, no offense."

Jack shrugged his shoulders, pushing the paddle forward. He knew what Arin was saying. Arin was a soldier. It was his job to fight. It's all the man knew. Jack almost wished he was like the man, but yet again he was a thief. He liked his job better than a soldier now that he thought about it. It made his life a bit more interesting. "Retaliating gets you more scars than you want."

Arin didn't respond and instead focused on his work to be done.

A few rows ahead, a man who was sitting at the edge of the bench fell to the ground. Jack had seen this once before. When he was once taken as prisoner, he had had to row in the winter. Everyone knows that the cold brings out the sick. People were dropping all around him. He was lucky enough to be able to manage his cough he was inheriting. If one of the overseers decided you were too weak, you'd receive multiple lashes until the overseer himself thought he had whipped the prisoner enough for him to die before they made the trip.

He could hear his fellow prisoners a few rows ahead scoff at the man who had fallen, and the overseer noticed the man immediately. Jack closed his eyes and focused on his labor. He tuned out the smack of the whip with his thoughts. He began to run his plan of escape through his mind over and over, making sure it was fool-proof.

Arin sighed beside Jack, wincing as thunder roared just outside the ship. "Storm's just about here." He said, a look of worry planted on his face.

Jack glanced around, waiting until the overseer turned around and headed towards the front of the ship. "You've made it this far. Before we know it, the storm will have passed." He couldn't confirm what he had said, though. He's only ever served during the winter, and the only trouble then was when the water froze. They had to glide along through the ice for a week at a snail's pace, slowing them down.

This would be a first-hand experience for Jack. He hoped the ship would hold up through the storm.