Young Writers Society

It's been so long since I've posted! The last time I reviewed and posted a chapter of this was clear back in August. I couldn't believe it. So here's the next part to the second chapter (if you can even remember what happened in the first two chapters, or you just want to review this chapter). But there will be more to come after this, esepcially if I get some good reviews. I'm quite proud of this novel, although I really need to work on it more.

Continued from chapter two part one

“Alright, gentlemen!” boss number four shouted to them all. They all remained perfectly still, something Marcus had been taught since before he was required to do labor and learned with perfect accuracy as not to get in trouble. “I want you all to drop down and give me two-hundred!” Outrages numbers like this were very common. No one complained and they all dropped down as he came around with his clip board to make sure everyone was accounted for. Only one person in the history of this camp had ever tried to escape, and that person was never seen again. To even think about it would get you in a ton of trouble. It was suicidal.
After about twenty minutes most were finished with the two-hundred, and the others were close. “Now, gentlemen!” he shouted again, “Your WP tests are coming up. In only two months you’ll all stand in front of one of the bosses so we can take a record of what you can do. The results will be given to the head. He accepts no weakness and only expects the best from his camp. Don’t let him down or severe consequences will follow. One day, some of you sooner than others, you’ll all stand before the head himself and show him personally what you can do. One day you’ll all reach the rightful age of eighteen, and then what you’ve been training for will finally come into play.” He smiled an evil smile as he said this. Marcus shuttered. He had heard this many times before, and the thought of standing in front of the head himself scared him. The bosses were hard enough to deal with as it was. No one had seen and spoken to the head and came back to tell the tale. They either were in such a huge amount of trouble that they spoke to him and then never came back or they had turned eighteen and were no longer in the camp.
The shutter caught the boss’s eye. Marcus went back to standing perfectly still and the boss luckily didn’t say anything and continued. He could feel himself sweating he was so nervous. “What’s our motto?” he shouted.
“We show no weakness!” all the boys shouted in unison. They repeated this every morning. He was told when he was younger it was to help get it in your head so there would be no questions about it. They were told to live and breathe on that motto. It was the only thing Marcus was ever taught. He knew nothing else.
“Now let’s get out there and prove it!” the boss shouted as everyone turned around and started running the opposite way.
The rest of the day was also the usual routine. They all ran across the flat dirt until they got to the mountains not too far from the camp. They climbed up this every day and then did a training course. This time of year the mountain was bearable because there was no snow. So many got sick and were never seen again during the winter because of the cold snow. Marcus always managed to get through it, although sometimes he didn’t know how. The rocks were a bit of problem without having any shoes, but he would rather deal with sharp rocks than snow any day. His feet were used to having no shoes so they had hardened and as a result could withstand more.
It took them about five hours to climb up the mountain. It wasn’t that they were slow. That was far from the problem. It was a very steep and high mountain, and they were required to go all the way to the very top and report themselves to one of the bosses up there. The bosses were always there first because they drove around in a small jeep. It was everyone’s dream to ride in one of those jeeps, but only those that were in a ton of trouble got the privilege, and of course none of them had ever lived to tell the tale.
Once they got back down the mountain they all were allowed a short rest for lunch. Marcus was always thankful for this and he sat down, all out of breath. He grabbed the canteen around his neck and drank the last of the water in it. Water was very scarce around here, especially during this time of year. It was so hot but they were only allowed three canteens a water a day. And with how much work they did and at what temperatures they did it in that certainly wasn’t enough. Heat exhaustion was always a problem during the hot days. Marcus had been through it plenty of times, but it was never bad enough he had to stop what he was doing. He always kept going. Some couldn’t, and those people were brought back to camp. Some of them would just rest for the rest of the night with a beating for showing weakness and then be fine in the morning, and others just disappeared without a trace.
Marcus was the quiet and rather shy one. He hardly ever talked unless spoken to as he had always been taught, even with the boys. Most of the boys showed a completely different side once they got free time in their tent for a couple hours every night, but Marcus was always the same. Quiet and completely obedient to whatever anyone told him. He was still beaten every now and again, but not as often as most people and oftentimes the bosses would use him as an example of what everyone should be. This often made the boys against him, thinking he was on the boss’s side. Marcus had never told them that wasn’t true, although he knew it wasn’t. He wanted to get out of here just as much as everyone else, but didn’t see much hope in actually doing it. He had lost confidence long ago. He would be here longer than anyone else. Everyone told him he was the youngest person to ever come here. Some of the boys knew a little bit about their past or could remember some faces in their dreams. Marcus had nothing. No memories of any kind. This was all he had ever known.
After he sat down boss number four came out with the lunches. It was what they usually had, soup in a can. They never bothered to cook it or even take it out of the can so the boys were forced to use the pocket knife they had been supplied with to cut it open. Marcus was always so hungry he scarfed it down, wishing for more even though it slithered down his throat like a snake. But today he wasn’t feeling the best. Of course he wouldn’t admit this to anyone because that would show a sign of weakness, but he took only a bite and suddenly couldn’t stand anymore. He was fairly sure he had heat exhaustion, and the best way to deal with that was just by drinking water, not eating disgusting soup.
One of the boys in his tent noticed his face and gave a mischievous smile. “Oh, Marcus, you don’t look too good,” he told him as he tried to look concerned. “You shouldn’t force yourself to eat. I’ll be more than kind enough to take that soup off your hands for you.”
Marcus wasn’t stupid, but he had no plans to eat it so he handed it to the boy without a word. The boy looked down at it like it was a Christmas present he had been waiting for and brought it back to where he was sitting. “You’re so mean, Dalton,” one of the other boys said. “I’m sure he needs it more than you.”
“Hey, I’m sixteen and he’s eight. I need it much more than him. I personally think they should take some of the younger kids food and give it to the other kids. It’s not like the younger kids need the same amount we do.” The boy just shook his head as Marcus drunk in silence, letting the warm water go down his throat. Water was never cold here. Marcus didn’t know the concept of cold water except for the snow he put in his mouth during the cold time of year. He had never had cold water during the warm time for sure.
I’m nine, Marcus thought to himself. But he didn’t say this out loud and he just turned his head. That’s just another nine years before he could finally get out of this place. Anywhere had to be better than here.