Camp 24

Chapter 1

Sounds of screaming echo through the corridors of the prison. Harper shivers, they don't even bother to give them some sort of heating. He closes his eyes knowing that this might be his last day at Camp 24. Shoes storm the halls coming, closer, and closer to his cell. Metal keys jingle and bang against his cell door. Then two Workers swing the door open and push a girl around twelve years old into the room with him. Harper never had a cellmate. She stumbled and slumped down to the cold floor. The Workers slammed the door shut leaving Harper with an angry twelve year old. This can't turn out well. "Hi," he says after an excruciatingly long minute of silence.
"Hi," she says, obviously wanting to be left alone. Harper had to admit, he probably looked like a sleep deprived creep who had been stuck at Camp 24 half his life.
"Where's your parent?" he asked her. She came in alone which didn't regularly happen. The Workers are nice enough to let you stay with one of your guardians.
"They took her a few days ago, the worst five minutes of my life"
"I'm sorry, my dad was taken from me too." Harper said, trying to sympathize.
"How long have you been here?" the girl asked.
"First let me introduce myself, my name is Harper. You?"
She looked at Harper for the first time, "Enola."
"Two weeks, that's how long I've been here. How about you?" Harper asked.
"Only six days." she lifted her hand from the moist stone floor, and looked away. "Is this how our world is gonna be? Trapping innocent people in prison cells? Are we ever going to stop this war?"
So many questions, and the only answer was, "I don't know. It seems pretty useless fighting a war that's already won, huh?" Harper scooted his legs in so they were tucked carefully against his chest.
"Are we gonna die?" Enola asked, barely loud enough for Harper to hear her.
"I don't know the details, kid." It was quiet for a long time. All that you could hear was the slow sound of both of them breathing. Then finally Harper asked, "Why'd they transfer you?" She lifted her hands to her hair and put it in a pony. Little wisps of her brown hair stuck out at the back of her neck.
"I've tried to get out three times. I found a way, and broke through a weak part of the bricks. They're probably repairing it right now." Harper's mouth hung just a bit.
"Gosh I've never been that strong," he sighed. Enola just shrugged like it was no big deal she broke through a freaking wall. "What about the other two times?"
"I picked the lock, they have weak security."
"Well, they caught you every time right? You're here now, so obviously, so they can't have that bad of security."
She scoffs, "I've almost made it past the FineLine." The FineLine is a fence, it's the only way in or out of the camp. The Workers guard it with dogs, all the way around the camp. The dogs are able to tell the difference between a prisoner and a Worker because every morning they give you a shot. You don't know what's in it, of course.
She lifted her pant leg to reveal sixteen bite marks on her calf. All of them had scabbed over, but each still had a green bruise. "Now they give me two shots instead of one. I'm guessing that the second one makes me slower, because I'm always a bit drowsy." She pulled down her pant leg, then slowly stood up and walked along the wall, pushing lightly on the bricks and stones. "Come on, get up."
Harper stood, "Why?" he asked.
"I need you to help me with the walls," Enola answered.
Harper looked at her strong sturdy arms and legs, then looked down at his own scrawny arms and twig legs. "I can't break through walls." Right after he said it he knew he sounded stupid.
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," she sighed. "Just help me with the weak bricks, okay?"
Harper walked along the wall looking for moved bricks. He only came across 7 on a wall of one hundred. Enola ripped off the bottom of her red shirt, and carefully wrapped it around her left hand. She backed up about two feet and lunged her hand at the stone wall, hitting all of the weak bricks. The light from outside of the wall blinded Harper, he blinked hard twice. The light left blobs of black in his vision. "Well, that was easy."
Enola rolled her dark green eyes, "When you've got me, breaking through walls is a bit easier." She started taking apart a piece of the wall, brick by brick. Enola didn't seem to need any help from Harper, so he stood back and watched in awe. She managed to eventually push through the bricks, leaving a small hole where the stones used to be. It was only just big enough for Harper to fit through. Enola crawled out first and stood up, breathing in the fresh air, well fresher than what they used to have. Smoke billowed up from an armory outside of the FineLine.
Harper struggled to get out behind her. So Enola bent down and pulled him up, nearly ripping his arms out in the process. He stood up and rolled his shoulders. "Christ, you're gonna take my arms out."
"If the situation required me to do so, I would." She started toward the FineLine. Harper ran after her, "Wait. We should try to find a better way before we go straight for the dogs." He nodded at her bruised leg.
"I was being dramatic, I can make it this time." She turned and kept walking. He followed close behind, glancing back at the prison.
*****
They happened upon a guard only once. It was an interesting encounter for Harper. The guards are considered several levels lower than The Workers. They are forced to stand outside the prison exits and entrances. And of course they interrogate you if you look any kind of suspicious. Harper and Enola definitely looked suspicious. The guard was probably not used to any escapees, and just stood staring at them blankly.
"Sorry," Enola said, obviously not sorry. She took her right fist and slammed it against the guard's face. Harper looked at her.
"What if they were friendly?" he asked.
Enola shrugged. "I didn't..." she lifted the guard's helmet to reveal a unconcoise female face, "kill her." Enola finished her sentence. "Now put this on." she held out the armor that she had stripped from the guard. He started putting on the armor. After a while of Harper thinking about how to put it all on, Enola helped. As she did she explained the plan. "You will pretend to be my guard, and I will be your prisoner. And if anyone asks what you're doing, just say you were sent to bring me to the factory for labor."
"'Kay." Harper replied. Enola situated the handcuffs on her wrists, as casually as you can she handed him the hand gun. "W-wait! I'm not going to hold a gun." He protests.
"You're a guard. You have to hold a gun." She raised her eyebrows and shoved the gun at him. He reluctantly took it, and put it in its halter.
They walked together toward the entrance security. The Workers walking around transferring new weapons took glaces at them. A Worker with a white outfit on, walked up to Harper, a black mask covered everything but they're mouth and eyes. They spoke in a deep voice. "What are you doing off duty, with..." he nodded at Enola, "one of them."
"She is not-." Enola nudged him with her shoulder. "I was sent to bring her over to the factory for labour."
"Where's your partner? All guards are assigned a partner."
And that's when Harper blanked.