Ch 11: Reasonable

Michael snapped awake as the lights to the barracks came on. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around, seeing everyone else doing the same.

“What’s going on?” he asked Davi who was already pushing himself out of his bunk and onto the floor.

“I don’t know,” he replied, cursing a bit in Portuguese as he shielded his eyes from the light.

The barrack doors slammed open and more than a dozen soldiers marched in. Real soldiers, not the young ones that they were all so used to having to escort them.

Kline, looking as if he’d hastily dressed, walked in next. His usual relaxed expression was gone, and had been replaced with a look of anger that would’ve made actual children crumble to see.

“Line up! Front of your bunks! NOW!”

Everyone complied quickly without a word. Ollie didn’t even mutter something crass as he went to stand in front of his bunk, sensing the immediate shift in the feeling of the room.

Kline walked in front of all of them, looking at each of them and their bunks as he passed. When he was at the far end of the barracks Michael realized something.

He didn’t look at Ollie, but he whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

Ollie glanced at him, but didn’t turn his head either.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly. No one is crying, and this is exactly the type of thing that would normally cause it.”

Ollie glanced around, looking toward the crier’s bunk.

“Shit… he’s not there.”

“Quiet!” yelled one of the soldiers in their direction, causing them to snap their eyes forward and clamp their mouths shut.

Kline walked up and down the line, looking at each and every recruit for at least ten seconds each, then made his way back to the door and whispered in the ear of one of the soldiers, stepping outside.

The soldier pointed at Prakash and to the door. “Follow.” He did so. He was gone for fifteen minutes and then Lee was called. This pattern continued for the rest of the night, and Michael found himself regretting the choice of a corner bunk, as no one was allowed to sit for the duration. One of the other Penitents actually collapsed, having locked his legs as he stood for too long, cutting off his circulation. His collapsed form was ignored by the soldiers, only told to stand back up once he awoke. Michael watched Pyotr, Davi, Marcus, and finally Ollie go. He was one of the last to be called.

“You,” said the soldier, pointing at him.

His legs ached as he forced himself to follow the soldier out of the barracks. The air was cold as he stepped outside, and he was led quickly across the campus and into a medium sized building outside of which he saw a gallows, a whipping post, and a number of waist high concrete structures that seemed to be built into the ground itself. They all had small slats at the top of them, and when he looked at one, he saw eyes looking back at him and almost jumped. When he looked again the eyes were gone.

Inside he saw the other Takers all lined up and standing against the wall. They all looked tired and scared, many of their legs wobbling from the effort it was taking to continue to stand. He knew they were all adults in the bodies of children, but the sight was so pathetic it made his heart drop in his chest. He was led through a thick doorway into a small windowless room with a guard in each corner and Kline sitting in a chair looking at him. He pointed at a chair across from him with its back against the far concrete wall.

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“Sit.”