It's 749, Chief.
The camp appears to be better than expected. Donn had tried to join him, but he had regarded her as a dead giveaway.
King Kirk would be overjoyed to learn he'd made it to the base.
When the truck came to a halt, they were whisked away to a spacious emergency room that resembled Queen Sei's but differed in some ways.
Doctors examined them, but did not appear to be in a hurry. The only thing keeping the men alive, he could tell, was the money hanging over the physicians' heads. No matter how serious the wound was, the technique was the same. Clean up the area, remove any debris, stitch the wound, and transport to the showers in the back. No medicine or anything.
He made a face, but he needed to take care of his side; fortunately, the physicians didn't mind if he removed his jacket or not, as long as it didn't get in the way. Much of it didn't bother him because the conflict was still vivid in his thoughts. He was dazed as he strolled around, merely following the others.
Even after the surgeons practically ripped the metal out, his brain needed a minute to understand what is happening. He was then pushed aside and sent out to join the others, which appeared to be pretty miserable. The showers were located outside and consisted of nothing more than a hose linked to a shower head. Four people, a mix of men and women, standing in groups of four under one. Unfortunately, there were only five showers, so Intervar had to wait. He could feel only the cold water from where he was standing, so hot water must be a luxury.
'Where do we go from here? Are we going to the jail or are we just going to walk around?'
As the line moved forward, he pondered, trying not to show that his side was bothering him. They hadn't used anything other than soapy water, and it was beginning to irritate him. As if he had been in the desert for so long, the showers felt like soaking in icy water. As the water soaked through the back of his jacket, his shoulders tensed, but he welcomed the distraction, anything to take his mind off the battle. He rapidly applied some soap to his hair, which resembled soapy water in an old cleaner bottle.
When he was finished, he followed a female inmate to the bunks. He expected them to be divided, like they are in jails, but he didn't see any on the field. However, it appears like the women were merely floating around the camp, much like the males who were still reeling from the recent events.
'1-50, 51-101, 102-152...' were written on the bunks' tops.
His brain read them but didn't absorb them; instead, he strolled over to the last building and checked to see if the patterns matched the rest before entering.
He didn't bother with the beds; instead, he walked to the farthest corner and buried his head in his hands, his eyes closed. It was now standard procedure following a combat, which he had discovered at the age of eighteen. He wasn't sure how long he sat there before a woman came to check on him, but the water was still pouring down his neck, so it couldn't have been long.
"Hello, how are you doing? I'm sorry for bothering you, but do you want something to eat? The guys haven't been fed since this morning." A woman cautiously placed a bag in front of him, and he just stared at it.
The woman is tall and underweight. Her red hair was cut short, revealing her severe eyes, small nose, and precise brows.
He wasn't hungry at all; he was just numb. Though his mind was gradually catching up with the rest of the world.
'Even if you don't feel hungry, you should eat since you will shortly.' He took the bag in his hands and cautiously opened it. It was only a small amount of powder. He'd heard other soldiers complain about these, and he was meant to fill them with water. In his current state, however, he'd just start consuming raw powder.
"Oh, and here's a glass of water. It's not much, but it'll be enough to fill half the bag." She handed him a half-filled water bottle and placed it in front of him alongside a bowl.
He ignored the bowl and spilled the majority of the bag into the bottle; much of it fell to the ground, but he didn't seem to mind. He simply shook whatever had gotten into the bottle till it turned into a muddy gray watery mush. It didn't matter how it was presented, he couldn't taste it anyway, so he dumped it in his mouth and swallowed. The woman, on the other hand, was completely taken aback, as if she hadn't expected him to do such a thing. Intervar was still unconcerned; he simply completed the chore and returned to his previous position.
"Well, that surprised me. The majority of people are clueless to the fact that food was even present." She tilted her head.
Working for Kirk will turn you into a starving animal like that unfortunately.
He realized what he was meant to be doing and carefully rose to his feet, leaning against a wall. He needed to get out of here, or at the absolute least, come up with a plan.
With a puzzled expression, the woman slowly rose to her feet, he had no idea where he was going, only that it was somewhere away from people and hopefully quiet. It turned out that the property had a massive gate, an electronic one at that. It made it to the treetops, and no one was around to see it. There are more inmates around, but they don't appear to notice or care about him.
He stepped closer to the gate, looking for an opening, but it simply felt like there was more gate all around him. He turned around, sensing that someone was looking at him, and the woman was still following him. Even though she was a long way away, it was strange. He came to a halt, expecting the woman to approach him, but she didn't, instead pretending to be doing something else. He resumed his trek and returned to the bunks and other buildings he couldn't identify, but the one at the end appeared to have a garage on it.
'It could just be where they keep the vehicles,' thought Intervar. He considered it, but went anyhow.
His head was starting to wake up, so he increased his speed; it just felt like the woman was chasing him down. He came to a complete halt in the midst of the camp and turned to face her, but she was once again behind him. He approached her and she took a step back as he came to a halt in front of her, looking surprised.
"Are you following me for a reason?" Looking at her, he raised his brow.
"Well, uh," the inmate stuttered.
Her eyes widen with surprise. "You see, I was only checking to see whether you were okay. I noticed you touching the fence earlier, but you didn't seem to react. And you've been following it all the way to camp. You just didn't seem to know where you are."
He agreed with a nod; he hadn't reacted at all when the gate shocked him. A flashback to King Kirk's training passed through his mind, and he could practically feel the electric barbed wire dangling over the rushing river water. He felt his spine ridge, but the woman didn't seem to notice even though he could read her tag number now that he was up close.
'Prisoner 749, red hair, buzz cut,' he thought. 'Keep it in mind.' He mentally repeated the number until the words dissolved, all the while looking the woman down.
She finally seemed to get the message and took a step back. He turned around and headed back to the garage hunting for anything, but the woman was close behind him.
"You're curious about the garage? Do you want to take a look at the vehicles?" She inquired as she rushed by him.
'Well, maybe you're useful then.' His mood improved slightly as a result of the woman's assistance.
The woman must have noticed something and proceeded to lift the garage. He was slightly impressed when she pulled down a large chain and the door began to open; he had initially assumed the chain would be too heavy.
There were standard jeeps as well as several emergency vehicles. The garage was much larger than imagined, extending many feet beyond the house. He proceeded gently into the room, inspecting every corner and wall with number 749 close behind him. When he got to the back, he stood on a platform and dropped slightly due to his weight. He peered down and realized that it was some sort of hatch. He fixed his gaze on the woman
"That's the quiet room. Sometimes we send people down there if they need it. If you like, I can request permission from the chief; he's usually good about giving those who have just returned a secluded spot."
'No, that's a hidden bunker.' Intervar thought but didn't question it further, a hiding spot was a hiding spot. "Can we go down?"
"Yeah, give me a minute," the woman said, her eyes brightening. She turned around to where he assumed she was going to find the chief, but returned. "So, why don't you join me? He'll like you, I'm sure."
Intervar didn't respond and simply followed her. He decided it'd be wise to get on the good side of whoever the chief was. They went almost the entire length of the camp until they came to a small bunker with only five beds.
'It had to be the extra beds,' as he walked through, Intervar pondered.
"I've got a question for you, chief." Number 749 approached a muscular man who was reading a book on his bed.
The olive-skinned man has a bad aura about him, and he has a massive wound on his chest from reckless behavior years ago. He has a natural baldness. He has a medium-length beard. He features pale green eyes that are round, very thin lips, a pointed chin, and little ears.
"Dolly, what is it?" The chief remained engrossed in his book. Intervar kept repeating her name in his head; it turned out to be Dolly. He developed a fondness for the name.
"I was just wondering whether the two of us could go down to look at the hatch. He'd recently returned from a battle."
For a brief moment, Dolly and he exchanged glances, while Intervar stood motionless, wishing to get into the bunker and off of his side, even if only for a brief moment.
"So, I suppose you're free to go. I'm sure I'll want to speak with you later. The chief fixed his gaze on him, his voice stern but compassionate.
"Yes, sir," Intervar responded almost instinctively, far too swiftly for someone of his should be experience, he had nearly forgotten he was a prisoner, not a trained soldier.
The chief examined him up and down, "You're free to go now. Before you leave, simply close it."
Dolly, as he'd come to know her, greeted him with a big smile and seized his hand before leading him back to the hatch.
When she flung open the hatch, a ladder surfaced. When he looked down, there was nothing but darkness.
"Come on, I'm sure you'll enjoy it." Intervar took a minute to follow Dolly down the hatch when she almost leaped down. He walked down gently, his palms sweating slightly as he felt apprehension, and soon his feet were on pavement.
The room was filled with light after a cord clicked, and Dolly stood there with the same huge grin.
"How do you think this is looking?" She inquired.
There wasn't much space in the room. A few of rugs sat in the corner, next to a bookcase, and a bunch of bean bags sat against the opposite wall. To his right was a thick door with the word "restroom" written on it.
"It's wonderful, but why isn't anyone allowed down here?" asked Intervar, the chill still oozing through his arms as he pressed them together.
"Oh, it's just that we're criminals, right? We have a place to put them if we have a crazed one or two." Dolly responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but he was taken aback; they don't have a therapist? It's just a concrete chamber with a few books in it.
"This is fantastic, but I think we should go back up? There isn't much to see in this room." Intervar raised the point.
"We can either sit here and keep each other company, or you may sit here and sleep here if you really want to. I'll let the chief know if you need me; I believe he likes you and would like to speak with you personally."
"I suppose it's better than the bunks?" He cracked a joke, even if it wasn't particularly amusing.
"I suppose you're right. Come on, let's just sit down and talk for a minute," Dolly laughed. She sat down on one of the beanbags and threw herself backwards, as if she'd known him forever.
Intervar cautiously followed suit and sat down.