The Tag Bearer

Chapter 2 - The Sorting House

The sun was setting on the horizon by the time we reached the warehouse. A beautiful, yet eerie, display of bright orange painted the sky above us, illuminating the gloomy rain clouds with a tinge of fiery red. We'd been marching in a cold spray that'd managed to work its way deep into my bones. Puddles of mud had formed in the cracks of asphalt, splashing its cakey feel up our legs. The water had seeped through the holes in my shoes, creating a damp, uncomfortable feeling amongst my toes as I stood in the line, waiting.

We were planted on a grassy, muddy hill. Frost billowed out into the surrounding atmosphere as a light drizzle broke through the clouds. I squinted, trying to see the small, lonely building sitting on top of the hill. The whole construction was made of the same dull concrete colour and for some reason, looked burnt out and abandoned. A barbed fence ran the length of the perimeter, and the grass turned abruptly into a thick slab of concrete flooring. The place looked like a prison, and it was heavily guarded by Drones and Officers in black outfits.

They patrolled the building, pistols at bay, in pairs. I shivered. They made me uncomfortable, not because I couldn't see their faces, but because I didn't know if they were human. Everything about them seemed automated, from the way they walked to the way they carried their weapons. It was impossible to tell them apart from one another. 

The line began to move again, and I was shoved senselessly in the back. Prompted into moving, I swung my legs into action. I wanted to remain invisible; unseen. The closer my feet crawled to the warehouse, the more I crinkled my nose at the smell of chemicals. They fumigated out the entrance, burning my nostrils. The frameworks' faded paint told me it used to be a Coulder Industry warehouse. I don't remember such a company ever existing before the war, but whoever they were, they left quite a fortress for the Officers to utilise.

There was no escape from such a place. All I knew was that it would be impossible for anyone, let alone a sixteen-year-old, book loving, stupid girl to even try to escape. It was a hopeless dream, and an even worse reality. And those barbed gates didn't help in settling the feeling brewing deep inside my stomach. 

I gulped, stretching my neck up towards the looming gates that now towered over us. My hair clung to my scalp, moving in one heap as the droplets of water swished off the slickened ends. I passed beneath them; the ever increasing threat that I would get stuck up there, somehow made me move faster. I plodded along, carefully placing one foot in front of the other until the line halted again. 

I seized up, my eyes widening. A somewhat tall woman was staring directly into my line of upwards sight. Her eyes were a rich dark chocolate colour, and her hair was cut short and frizzy, making her look like a grizzly bear gone wrong. She wore a white lab coat and held a digital clipboard I didn't even know existed in her hand. The screen illuminated the harsh lines on her face as she protected the board the best she could from the rain. She didn't have a name badge, but I assumed she was some kind of a doctor.

"Your arm," she instructed.

Confused at her request, I didn't move. I flicked my eyes to the scene behind her. An Officer, clad in protective black gear and a full mask, stood by her side with a box of what appeared to be needles. Beyond them a group of Officers stood guard at every door, scanning and entering the people injected with the needles' liquid before me. What did this woman need my arm for?

"Your arm," she said; this time louder.

When I failed to make my muscles move, she violently grabbed my wrist, rolling up my coat sleeve. The Officer handed her a thin needle, and I began to squirm. I hated needles. This wasn't how I wanted to die. Not by the force of a needle.

With great difficulty, the woman managed to insert it into my forearm. I moved this way and that, trying to break free from her stronghold, but it was no use. She was too strong for me, and before I knew it, a slight burning sensation filled up the whole of my arm making me wince at the uncomfortable feeling.