Untitled Part 4

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I race down the dirty alleyway, bathed in fading sunlight. The sunset is made up of blood red haze and bright orange clouds, but it is dying quickly. I have to be somewhere, soon. Something is terribly wrong. As I make my way through the streets of the vaguely familiar city, I realize that I'm not running alone.

Two people with nameless faces flank my sides. One girl and one boy. The boy looks a few years older than me and the girl, and he has the beginnings of a beard. The girl has chocolate brown hair, set in delicately elaborate braids. Something in me feels connected to the two of them. I keep on running.

Time goes by and others begin to join us. Jumping fences, flying through open doors. Our group is growing. Hand grenades. Everyone is holding at least one.

Run,

         Run,

                       Run.

 We stop at a huge building that towers over us in expanding hunger; trying to defy our unitability. There's at least fifty of us now, all dressed in a deep crimson. Scarfs, masks, hats, coats; all red. Nobody says a word, and we all stand there in silence, trying to catch our breaths. Then without warning, somebody lets out a blood curdling scream and throws a lit grenade into a very thin, very small window of the building. The chink in the armor. Like a line of dominoes being set off, everyone begins to chuck their flaming weapons at the walls and single window of this unfamiliar structure. When it gets to me, I don't hesitate.

I run into the now flaming building.

Why?

Why am I doing this?

I'm gonna die here!

The thoughts race through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. But I won't turn back. I have somewhere to be, now. Time is running out. Burning hot chunks of debris fall from above. And yet I can't feel anything. Jump, run, slide and roll. I don't think of what I'm doing; just that I need to hurry. But I don't make it. A huge beam that had been on the ceiling is gliding down towards me. Slowly. Like a leaf floating down from a tree. Like it weighs nothing.

Only then do I realize that it's a dream. 

Right before the wooden beam hits me, I black out.

My eyes bolt open. Never have I felt more relieved to wake from a dream. My ears are ringing and sweat coats my forehead. What was all that about? That dream was so real. I remember the cries of those people. My people.

I sit up trying to remain calm. But I can't stop thinking about the boy and girl who were running with me. They were my friends. The ringing in my ears is getting louder. Looking around, I notice that it's not in my ears, it's an alarm or something.

A cool breeze sends shivers down my spine. Why are they waking us up so early? Then I remember what Mr. Sir had told me yesterday:

"This is where the digging stuff is, you are to dig one hole each day, including Saturdays and Sundays. Each hole must be five feet deep and five feet across in every direction. Your shovel is your measuring stick. When you're done digging, you're gonna go to the showers and then wait for the dinner bell in your tent. Breakfast is at 4:30."

4:30?! That's way too early. When I look around, I can tell that the boys still aren't used to it either. They're groaning and rubbing their eyes.

"Rise and shine, sleepin' beauty." Squid says, although I can't really tell if he's talking someone or himself because he still has his face in his pillow.

When we all get outside to the library, (the Shack of the Shovels) we begin to line up, I end up in the back behind Zero. As more boys started to gather around behind me, I became glad that I got up when I did. I wouldn't want to be stuck between any of the other boys.

Finally, I'm able to grab my shovel and head out to where I'll be digging. Digging holes. What a strange form of punishment. But clearly an effective one.

It's almost as if they're looking for something, I think to myself. But I can't waste any more time thinking, so I start making the measurements for the width of my hole. As I lay my shovel out and mark the end and head of it in the dirt with a stick I had found on the walk here, I notice Barfbag giving me a strange look.

"What?" I ask sharply.

"What're you doing' with your shovel?" he asks me, completely ignoring the hostility in my voice. That's the one thing I've learned about people out here. They just don't seem to care. Or maybe they've been isolated from other normal people for so long that they can't detect sarcasm anymore.

Only because I feel slightly bad for him, I soften the hardness in my tone. "Measuring." I say simply.

Barfbag gives me a crooked smile that matches his off-center nose. He chuckles. "You sure are one strange girl." he tells me. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he shrugs and goes over to where he decided to dig his hole. Me, strange? He's the one who can't keep a conversation going for more than a couple seconds. Well, I guess I can't either. 

After what seems like hours, I'm sitting in the shade of my complete hole, taking a sip of water. I haven't bothered to check and see how far along anyone else is. I assume they all probably finished a while ago. I wonder inattentively what would happen if a tornado came and swept us all away, while I pick at the dirt under my cracked fingernails. Smiling, I imagine Dr. Pendanski screaming at us to remain calm and stay put as he scrambles of towards the nearest building; only to be pulled back by the strong winds of the tornado get picked up and sucked into the circling whirlpool of shovels and boys and dust. 

The loud honking of a car pulls me from my dreams and into reality. It must be Mr. Sir here to tell us it's time for dinner, I hope. They clearly didn't seem to feel the need to bring us lunch or fill up our canteens. But when I stand up and peek through the wide opening of the hold I dug, I notice three things at once. One, all of the boys have gotten out of their holes and lined up at the open window of the truck. Two, none of their holes seem to be anywhere near completion, except Zero's. Third, there's a buzzing sound in my ear that won't go away. 

Everyone's looking at me now. Waving me forward. Then they stop. The boy wearing a hat propped loosely on his head tells the person in the car something, but I can't hear what because I just want to listen the air quiver. I realize suddenly that Squid is sitting by me in the shadow of the hole I just finished digging. He has a two paper bags and is handing me my canteen. Water. Warm, but still more valuable than anything. I take it from his hands and almost drop it because the world is spinning and my brain is shivering. I don't stop to question the fact that I had just taken the last drink of my water a few minutes ago, I just lift the container to my lips and chug the water until I can't hear the sound of the air anymore. 

"Near worked yourself to death, girly," Squid was saying sheepishly. "You okay?"

I nod, mostly to get him off my back, then ask, "What happened?" 

Armpit, Barfbag, Xray, Magnet and Zigzag are staring at us, mouths and eyes wide open. 

"You finished you're hole before lunch, that's what." Magnet says. 

"Yeah, then you almost fainted 'cause you had no water!" Armpit says in awe.

Xray knocks on the back of his hear playfully. "No shit, dummy. Of course it's because she didn't drink enough water. Just look at her. She's as red as a tomato." 

Before I can respond, the sharp voice of Mr. Sir yells at us to hurry up and eat already so we can get back to digging. 

Lovely.


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