Chapter 5 first draft

Disclaimer: That is a first draft. I have no spelling detector on my computer while English is not my native language. There are for sure spelling and gramatical errors. Feel free to point them out. Thank you and enjoy reading. 

Conolyn was about sixteen and she had just been collected. The first days of training were tough and her endurance was tested mercilessly in full extent which almost killed her.

One day the leader of her dorm woke her up with cold water and knocked her out of her bed. “Wake up princess, it seems you made it to phase two, who knew?”

When she arrived at the port she was weak and very thin, she hadn't eaten for days. Her stomach felt as if it was trying to shallow her whole and her mind was blurry with regular hallucinations appearing due to the exhaustion and starvation.

She stood there in line with dirty clothes and a heavy backpack with nothing but equipment in it. Conolyn could literally kill for a few drops of water. Her mouth was dry and her knees were shaking from the weight and the restlessness.

There must have been a hundred waiting in line with her. She recognised some people from her dorm but none of them wanted anything to do with her. They were just pointing at her, calling her names such as princess or pure bitch. What the hell did that mean? She had no idea.

It was dark and intimidating and the sun had yet to rise. She had no clock but from the grey colors of the sky she knew it was around four am. She had no idea what they waited for and they all seemed anxious and scared.

Suddenly they heard a strange loud sound that reminded her of a horn, only thicker and more commanding. Something to write home about. It was a sound she had heard before in films and documentaries. It sounded like war.

The horn was followed by the sight of an enormous ship emerging from the fog. They all stood there motionless in awe. None of them had seen anything like it. It was big and rusty and gave Conolyn the feeling that she would die in it. It was all dark and Conolyn could hardly discern it's grey color. It took a lot of men and a lot of yelling and anxiety to tie it down like it was alive, untamable with its own destructive will. It seemed dangerous and they all shivered a little in its plain sight.

She looked around the terrified mass of kids.

They were all just kids afterall. Some younger than others, but still kids. Kids with nothing in common other than the fear they felt against the unknown and the burden to fight for a cause, so far unknown as well.

They were all taken from their beds after midnight and stuffed together in large, uncomfortable cars which drove them to the port. No one told them where they were going or why or for how long would they be gone, or whether they were coming back from this unexpected journey. It felt like a sudden adulthood, like life got to them a bit sooner than expected.

When the ship was all set the gate opened with a loud bang that made their ears hurt. They all took a step back as a reply and that was when people came running out of the cars that surrounded them and started pushing the first half of the line inside.

People from the top of the ship came forward and yelled “load them in!” like they were animals or property. They pushed and kicked them to rush inside and during the process gave them random metal tags with numbers on them. Conolyn was held back with the rest of the line and couldn't help but look inside the ship out of curiosity. However she saw nothing but the space they kept the cars and equipment.

After the first half of the line, they started loading cars with kids in them, older kids or young men who looked more calm and less tired. One of these cars stopped exactly in front of her and a young man stepped out and approached her. He was big and masculine with many scars and tattoos wearing a jockey. He was a threatening figure and she got scared at first and stepped back.

The man looked at her kindly and asked her what her name was. She told him they weren't supposed to have names. He smiled “What do you wanna be called then?” She raised her shoulders and made a grimace from the pain. “What are the first three letters of your name?” the girl stepped back in hesitation. “Go on you can tell me, don't worry, no one will punish you for telling me” he said and smiled with confidence.

Hesitantly the girl spelled the first three letters of her name “C-O-N” he looked at her with a sudden intrest. “I know you. You are that pure girl everyone is talking about” Conolyn did not speak. She looked at him worriedly. “If it's true you have more guts than anyone else here.” No one was kind to her in this place. Not that many were kind to her before.

“The name is Conolyn and I have no idea what “pure” means.”

He laughed. “Conolyn, alright. Non of you have an idea what it means. You ll respond to “Con” until you are given your name okay?” Conolyn nodded and felt kind of glad that the last time she would hear her real name was from his mouth.

“So no one treats you well here huh?” he asked her as if he could read her thoughts.

“I don't mind” she said and knocked her hair out of her eyes. He lowered his head and bit his lip. Then he looked around worriedly.

“What the hell” he said and with an effortless movement he grabed the heavy backpack from her shoulders and put it on the back of his trunk. “Who ever has a name rides with the cars. You will ride with me today.” he opened the door for her. Conolyn stood before it looking inside without moving, it looked like a military car.

“Go on, don't worry, I am a pretty good driver” he said like there was a hint of irony in that remark and both of them got in.

Before he started the car he handed her a metal tag like the one they gave to the first half of the line.

“I believe this is yours” Conolyn read it “13/7/12 Con” she realised the tags weren't random at all that was the day she had been kidnapped. In small characters there were the first three letters of her name.

“I m Philip by the way. Stick with me and you should be fine.”

The ship was as if it had been built on a dream – a nightmare- it was a ship that one could only see through novels and history films, it didn't look real. Conolyn had never seen anything like it before. She was trying to explain and to analyse it in her mind but there were no words fitting for it. Only a vague impression and a cold feeling of fear. The impression on Conolyn's mind was one of a floating prison from a phantasmic time. As she was going inside with Philip no other thought crossed her mind. She was mesmerised and incapable of controling the bloodcurling feeling she got since the icy white lights of that eery junck of a ship had shone on her face.

Her thoughts were blanck which was rather peculiar. The awe she felt against the ship and everything related to it had silenced everything in her. The fear was present and it was intense, so intense that it relieved her of all her hopes. In the same instant that she stopped hoping the fear became subtle and relaxing. Like a weight had dropped off her shoulders, there was no reason to fight it, no reason to feel obligated to fight it, no reason to accuse herself for not being better or stronger. Afterall hope was the only obstacle.

On the inside the ship was exacly the same as it was on the outside; big, old and rusty. Once they entered Conolyn started feeling the humidity on her hair and skin. The air in the parking area was unpleasent to inhale, it smelled like gas, seasalt and something that was very simillar to dead fish. Conolyn could only hope that the atmosphere would be less sophicating in the upper levels.

All of a sudden the whole situation had felt awfully familiar to her like she had been there before, like a de ja vu which was probabby a defence mechnism against the agony she felt. No matter what it was, it helped her put her thoughts and questions in order.

There were no information given to her since the day she was taken. What was this place? What was her role among the hundreds of kids around her? And most importantly who were these people? What did they want? Conolyn could only think about illegal organisations or maybe terrorism, but nothing made sense to her. It all happened suddenly when they took her name away. Then followed her nationality. The only information she had been given was that; No country, no names. Not even a name or at least a term to describee what all this was. Nothing.

The training in the camp where they kept them was pretty standard and couldn't reveal the intentions behind it. They didn't do anything complicated that would associate them with a specific purpose. They were simply exersizing daily for a few hours -simple tasks, mostly running- and at night they were free to do as they wished inside the borders of the camp which were guided by heavily armed specialists. In addition to that for as long as she was there Conolyn had no idea where this camp was. Everyone among them had arrived at the place in small groups in different days and they were all sedated for the whole way there. Last thing they remembered was feeling drunk and falling asleep.

Philip parked his car on the back -close to the stairs that led to the upper levels of the ship- and jumped out of his seat closing the door behind him. Through the window, with a straight face he signaled Conolyn to wait and so she did.

A strange figure approached them, it was an old man who apparently was missing his right eye. That moved Conolyn's curiosity at first but she soon realised that nothing was strange anymore, not in here, not with all this chaos surrounding her. The man said something to Philip and they started talking, although behind the thick windows of Philip's car Conolyn couldn't understand what their conversation was about. For a brief momment Conolyn felt alerted.

Maybe she wasn't supposed to be there, maybe her place was with the rest of the kids from the camp. Maybe she was breaking a fundamental rule at the momment and if they caught her it could cost her her life. Suddenly she felt panic passing through her. Her emotional state was unstable and incontrolable with regular swings and false assumptions. She hadn't eaten for days. Regardless of her struggle to stay sane and logical Conolyn felt overpowered by hunger and panic. She was ready to jump out of the car and run, irrationaly with no plan in mind or a direction to go, she would just run and maybe jump to the sea, out of desperation.

Thankfully Philip started laughing and nodding in a very friendly manner. The man then gave him a piece of paper and a weathered suitcase that seemed to be extremely heavy even for Philip. They waved at each other and even shared a quick hug before they parted.

Conolyn felt instantly relieved and the reckless beast in her mind relaxed, allowing her once more to think rationally. “Maybe I am really crazy” she thought. Maybe the doctors and the school teachers and the news reporters were right all along. Maybe she was crazy after all and her entire life was nothing but an illusion. Maybe that was the reason why everyone in the camp hated her and she was unable to make any friends or companions like the rest of them did. “Maybe I am crazy” she murmured to herself.

Philip had returned to the car by then, without her realising. “”That's bullshit” he said hearing her murmur- maybe thinking it was directed to him- “You are not crazy, you are just hungry and tired and..” he looked at her and with his index finger pushed her hair out of her face to reveal small scars with dried blood on her forehead and chin. “And a little beaten up. You are doing very well, trust me, I know crazy when I see it and you aint it love.” he said, got the keys from the engine and went out of the car once more.

Conolyn shook her head in her attempt to keep her eyes open. She could barely feel her legs it was like every second she was spending awake and concious was a neverending torment. Philip took the suitcase in his right hand and on his left shoulder he placed Conolyn's bag. He could tell she was tired and she wouldn't make it up the stairs with all this weight. He knocked on her window making her jump on her seat.

“Come on” he told her in a loud voice in order to be heard above the metalic sound of cars entering the ship. Conolyn got out of the car supporting herself as best as she could. She could bearly stand on her feet.

“Are you sure it is okay for me to be back here?”

Philip let out an ironic laugh at that remark. “Honey look around.” He said and made a pause. Conolyn looked around in a sleepy manner to try and spot what it was that Philip was referring to. He grabbed her chin to force her to look at him and with a gesture of his hand showed the place around them like he was presenting it dramatically on a stage. “This is hell. It is not okay for anyone to be here” as soon as Philip finished his sentence he started walking briskly towards the stairs. Conolyn grabbed his arm forcing him to turn back and answer her question.

“I'm serious, shouldn't I be with the rest of the kids that have no names?” Philip sighed and look at her as one looks at a child that refuses to go to the dentist or eat their vegitables. “But Con you have a name, I gave it to you ten minutes ago.” Conolyn paused and looked down, trying to process the information on her mind. Philip was getting worked up. Conolyn could tell by his involenteerly movements and his impatient glance. It stood to reason since the weight he carried must have been painful. “Look, out there you are as good as dead. Not that you are safe anywhere else at the moment but you surely stand a better chance with me.” He let out a gasp and reposisioned the weight in his arm with a flicking movement. “Now will you follow me or would you rather go back to the masses that hate your guts?”

Conolyn had no idea how Philip knew that everyone hated her guts. Was it that obvious to someone who had just met her? How did he know that was her anyway, they didn't have names, they were all about the same age and she didn't have any distinctive characteristics other than the fact that she was fairly good looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, light skin and skinny. That could have been anyone. She took a deep breath, held it in, nodded in agreement to Philip and then followed him up the stairs. Philip was probabbly right. She had no idea what all this meant but she was probabbly better off with him.

“You will get used to the smell” Philip said once he turned to look at her, smiling empathetically as he watched her grimase in the attempt to hold her breath. The smell was so bad that it burned Conolyn's nostrils as they were climbing up the stairs. “I promise” he added and kept moving.

The stairs were sticky and black from filth. At their every step they were making squicky noises and it felt like they were ready to colapse underneath them. Regardless Conolyn kept going, trying to place her weight carefully. She trusted that the stairs would hold her. In the time she spent on the camp she had lost a lot of weight which made her healthy figure look fataly thin. Philip on the other hand was not worried at all about the stairs even if the weight he was carrying along with his musculine body was about eighty kilos. His movements had the grace of habbit in them, like he had climbed those stairs a million times and had fallen off of them and had seen other people falling off of them. It was as if he had been born and raised in those stairs.. Every step that he made was effortless and at the same time carefully calculated to be perfect.

It took them longer to reach the second deck than Conolyn expected and she was out of breath.Droplets of sweat were running from her chin down her neck and inbetween her breasts. The soft breeze made her siever.

Philip turned to look at her once more and he laughed as a reply to her expression. “Sweat much?” he said and kept going. “This way. Try to stay close to me.”

The doors that lead inside the ship from the deck were all locked with enormous chains and surrounded by crowds of people resting on the deck, lying on the floor covered in blanckets. Some of them looked heavilly ill and others were wounded or missing parts of their body. There was a lot of blood and the sea breeze brought it's metalic scent to their nostrils. Blood has a strange smell. Conolyn could clearly discern it even with the intense stink of dead fish in the atmosphere. As they walked among them, nobody looked at them. They were all preoccupied with pain and not diying. Conolyn however couldn't restrain herself from looking. The state of these people could reveal something about the nature of this organisation

Conolyn looked at each of them closely as they passed them by. There was a boy, quite handsome, layed on his back in front of a young woman who was trying to mend his wounds. Conolyn tilted her head to see what exactly the woman was trying to do. She was holding something that looked like tweezers. Conolyn waited to listen. The metallic sound of the bullet falling on the rusty deck confirmed her assumptions. She grabbed Philip's arm. “Philip that's a bullet wound, what happened to him?” she asked in shock and pointed at the boy.

Philip instantly slapped her hand and grabbed her arm forcing her to move on. “Stop pointing at people! You are not a child.” but she was, all of them were. Even Philip with his strong arms and his scary scars had a child's face. It was doubtful that there was anyone over their twenties on board. They were all basically children. “Not anymore” Philip added completing her thought like he had read her mind. The eery sound of the horn was heard once again and it made Conolyn'sears hurt. The ship had sailed, both literally and figuratively. There was no going back now. Gradually the soft breeze turned into a relentless wind, cold and salty. That made the situation even harder for Conolyn who had to support herself by grabbing anything near her in order to keep going. The wind was so strong that she could hardly move against it. The deck had became wet and slippery. Drops of filthy water were getting in her eyes and she couldn't see clearly but kept following philip guided by the heavy sound of his footsteps.

When they finally made it inside Conolyn felt sick and feverish. They had entered through a small secret door which to Conolyn looked more like a window. It came as a surprise to her that Philip had managed to fit through it. The first thing she came across was a spacious hall with no doors or windows.

“Up here are the Cabins” Philip said and kept moving. It was hard for Conolyn to follow his brisk pace. “You are very lucky to be in a cabin. Most newcomers sleep on the floor while the strong ones take the deck” Conolyn goggled at him and Philip laughed, obviously amused by her terror. “Don't worry you are not the strong kind anyway” Conolyn tried to smile politely in his rather untasteful joke but she didn't seem to be able to move any muscles in her face, the were all numb from the cold wind and the seasalt. “However” Philip continued and raised his index finger at her “We intend to make you strong. There is no way to make it here if you weight less than my six year old nephew” he said and turning his back on Conolyn he continued his course giggling.

“Philip when you say “we” I don't really know what that means” conolyn cleared her throat and continued hessitantly. “You see I was taken from a bar, I don't really remember how, I was very drunk...”

“Shhh!” Philip stoped her aburptly. “I don't care where you were taken from. You are not allowed to discuss this here. You are not allowed to discuss it at all. Just forget everything. It is better to forget. You are not allowed a past here. Do you understand? You are not allowed to keep anything from your old life. Not even memories. If you keep the memories it will only bring you pain and more ananswered questions. There is no use. Try to forget.”

Conolyn remained calm and looked at Philip with anger in her eyes that were now black from exhaustion. “Okay then fuck that. I still don't know what the hell “we” means. Don't I have the right to at least know that? You said I am not allowed a past. I am not only fine with that, I am grateful. I need to have a present though. So I guessmy question is; What the fuck is this place and why the hell am I in here?” her trembeling voice had regained her strength and was now lowd and demanding. Philip looked at her silently for a second and noticed a small quiver in her neck. She was ready to burst.

“Easy there fisty!” Philip said and they both stoped in front of a metalic door. “You brought yourself here Conolyn. All of us did” he paused and knocked on the door. “You are no different than the rest of us. Everyone makes choices, you choose poorly, you get yourself in here. And there is no turning back from this point on. That's just the way thing are and always were. There really isn't a better explaination for it.” finishing his sentence he knocked on the door again, but much harder this time and yelled on top of his lungs; “Damn it Naya open up”