Opposed (Under Construction)

Hayes

I jumped up from my sleep, breathing heavily. Immediately, I realized it was a bad idea. My whole body was sore and tired, and the shooting pain continued as I sat up. I looked around to find myself seated in the center of a dimly lit concrete room. I was sitting on a cold metal table. How cliche.

"Look who's awake." a booming voice sneered from across the room.

"Look what the cat dragged in." I countered as a large man in Order uniform came into view.

He stopped when he got to my table, his smirk turning into a frown. Without warning, he stuck his meaty hand out and slapped me across the face. I grunted and fell onto my back. THat'll leave a mark.

"You won't be saying a word unless asked." he he started, getting back to business. He looked closer at me, then added "And you should feel like lucky to be able to speak at all, boy."

Interesting how their little rules work out. I glared at him.

"Now, get up and follow." he ordered, motioning to the door. I hoisted myself off the table and stumbled when I realized the sudden weight I put on my injured legs. How did this even happen? I remembered no brutal fight, no struggle, just...laying down. Collapsing- maybe?

I followed the man through drab, stone concrete hallways with flickering white lights, until we came across a metal door. He opened it and shoved me inside. I stumbled and tripped, falling to my knees.

"Stay here." he grunted. I sighed and sat back against a nearby wall. A few minutes (I assume they were minutes) later, a kid walked in. He seemed to be about 20, but very small. Though he was at least a few years older than myself, he had zero muscle and as it seemed, zero guts. He shook as he snuck through the door.

"'Sup." I sneered. He frowned and stalked over, mock confidence in his stride.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." he commanded, with a bored tone. So maybe he did have a bit of an attitude.

"Right-o, captain." I responded, giving him a weak two-fingered salute. He sighed and rolled his eyes, kicking my exposed shin for emphasis. I took a sharp breath, closing my eyes. They really did not hesitate with the abuse in this lovely little establishment.

"Just give up. I am going to ask you questions and you will answer them. Deal?" he started, picking up a clipboard from a nearby table. I nodded, pressing my head against the wall.

"What's in it for me?" I asked.

"You get to live an extra twenty minutes," he stated.

"Ah, that doesn't seem like a very fair deal to me," I countered, buying myself some time. I still couldn't find any way out of here. Damn.

"Perhaps "deal" was a poor choice of words. You have no choice. So can we please get on with this?"

I glared.

"Fantastic." he said in a dull tone. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay let's see here..." he began. "Ah. Name, subsection, family information."

"Hayes, Bradley, Phil and Riella are parents. I have a sister." I informed hesitantly.

He nodded. "Name of sister?"

"She isn't a part of this and you know it." I shot back. "Fair enough." was all he offered. I stared at him.

"Now, Hayes," he said, a look of disgust on his face as he repeated my name. "Are you involved in any suspicious or illegal groups?" he finished, feigning curiosity.

"No." I answered automatically. He stepped over and tried to kick me again, but by this time I was prepared. I saw it coming from my peripheral vision, and I threw my hand up, catching the heavy boot. I pulled it back and then shoved it back at the ground. He winced.

"Cut that out already." was all I said.

"You are lying to me, Hayes." he started. "Don't you think I know what that is?" He pointed at my ribbon.

"Um, you like my piece of string? I always thought it was pretty neat but most dudes find tha-" I offered before he cut me off. "Oh cut the crap. I know what you are. You are an "Opposer"." he said, raising his hands to put quotations around "opposer".

I sighed and sat back. "Fine. What do you want?" I gave in. He smiled smugly.

"Oh, just some information about you and your little friends, buddy."

*

Almost two hours, many answered (some true, some not) questions, and a couple more beatings later, I found myself back in my original cell. This time, I found my backpack thrown in the back corner. I sighed in relief. I poured out the contents. Old leather jacket of my dad's, package of dried beef, water bottle, pocket knife (I cannot believe they didn't take that), rope (oh, handy!), and a lighter. Nothing I could really break out with. Even if I could, I would never be able to leave all the innocent citizens they held here. Instead, I slipped on the jacket and grabbed the jerky. Sliding the pack open, I pulled a piece out. It was then that I realized how hungry I was. Don't they feed us here?

So far, I was really wishing I would have just stayed with Naomi at the house. She was probably captured too, sitting in a cold cell like mine. I smacked the wall at the thought. This was all my fault. What about my mother? Probably in danger, as well.

I did not understand why the Order had punished the entire subsection, instead of just us. These were bystanders, totally oblivious to the silent war that rages between our forces. They need not be punished for a "crime" they had no hand in.

I leaned back, waves of exhaustion coursing through my battered body.

Just a quick nap.

***

I also apologize for the shortness. I have issues keeping it exciting because I am using different points of view. With short updates, there are more. So it's a win-loose.

This chapter is dedicated to icallringbearer for all her support and...publicizing. :3

Thanks for being really cool Wattpadders. You continue to amaze me with all the support.