The Tag Bearer

Chapter 6 - Call Me B67

The sun felt like a heatwave that would never give way to a cooler change in air, and it caused my body to sweat a great deal more than it needed to. I was thirsty and all I could think about was water. More water. I licked my cracked lips eagerly, glancing down at my empty water bottle attached to my waist. A thin layer of dust coated it, sticking to the clear shell like it had nowhere else to go. 

I secretly wished I was working in that cold horrible drizzle, not in this. My mind only went elsewhere in this heat. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out; there was only so much stickiness one person could take.

I closed my eyes, my father's face appearing.

"The war is coming to an end, I can feel it, Chika." His face morphed into despair, his aging hands shaking as he leaned against a table. "They will come for us."

I stood, facing him, unsure of what to do.

He knelt. "If you ever come across a man named Sergeant Roland Hill, you run." He grabbed my face, his cold brushing against my cheek. "Do you hear me?"

I nodded, although he could not see it. "Yes."

"Hill will come after you. Of that, I am certain. He wants something that I will not allow him to have. By the rock, near a snowed-in mineshaft, you will find a book buried in the dirt. A book I swore to protect with my life. And a book that will now help you. You are the key."

That was all it was. A stupid book, but it was the only thing this man wanted. A stupid book that contained all the names of those who could rise up against him in a second revolt.

I opened my eyes. "I am the key."

I glanced up from the body I was tagging, wiping sweat bubbles from my forehead as I eyed Matthew and Alfredo. They hung around the cart, looking exhausted but still having enough energy to fraternize over whatever blokes fraternized about. Their feet trailed a good few meters behind us, their backs hunched over as they constantly stopped to pick up the bodies we'd tagged. I didn't want to speak to Matthew, but I knew he was watching my every move with the intensity of an eagle watching its prey. He made me nervous in the worst possible way and ignoring him wasn't making it any easier as I went around tagging bodies. 

"Red one here," F89 instructed, pointing to ground beside her where a body lay in a layer of camouflaging dust. I would've missed that one, I was too distracted. "And...hmmm... maybe a green one here."

I did as she said, placing the tags over their hands as quickly and as untouchable as I could manage. I hated to look at their faces. It was like looking into your very own twisted nightmare where everyone got trapped in a haunted house and died. I shivered. If I so much as glanced at them, I would start to dry retch. It wasn't the greatest feeling, I must say.

"What do they do with the bodies?" I found myself asking after a while. I needed a distraction from the swelter and the decomposing bodies wafting a horrendous smell up my nostrils, although I didn't know if I was going to get a straight answer from F89 this time. 

She stopped. I intently inspected her reaction, a distinct gut feeling churning my bread furiously as I realised the wrong question had slipped through my lips. Fuck. All throughout the morning I learned we weren't allowed to ask questions, and what had I just gone and done? Asked a bloody question! I cursed under my breath at my mistake, hoping maybe she'd take it for a rookie misstep and nothing else. 

I gulped. Could this be it? Would she call over a Drone and have me shot?

"Don't ask questions. Never ask questions," she said briefly, turning away from me promptly. "You'll learn soon enough."