Waging War | The Amber Duology #1

8 | Not So Fancy

The ear deafening, heart racing, and annoying sounds of an alarm was what got Skylor out of bed that morning. She jumped at the loud sound that had entered her ears, pulling her awake and away from her stream of unconsciousness.

"What's happening?!" She managed to yell over all the noise as she sat up on her bed.

Some girls looked at her with the same wonder in their eyes, hands covering their ears, while the same group of girls she had run into at the screening were already up from their beds, fixing their uniforms and tying the laces to their boots.

"It's the wake up call." A familiar girl with curly black hair responded, and this time Skylor got a good look at her teeth. They were sharp, the kinds you saw in vampires or wolves. But somehow, she always had the answers to Skylor's hard questions.

A week had already passed where they spent most of their time learning about the history of the war–nothing they didn't already know–the camp rules, a very detailed biography of General Garmadon and all his accomplishments, followed by a quick run through all their superiors–which was the longest list Skylor had ever seen–and the rules of discipline.

Nya groaned from beside her, covering her head with the thin blanket. "Make it stoop."

"It will stop once you learn how to get your behind out of bed." The girl called and rolled her eyes, making her way out of the tent. "Good luck, I heard if you're late there will be severe punishments." She shot Skylor a wink–something she found more threatening than flattering–and strode off.

Skylor got a glimpse of the outside and saw not a single drop of sunlight. It was probably still night time and she was just having a bad dream. But with the sound of the alarms, she knew it would have woken her up no matter how deep she was in her sleep.

The first time they were shown their sleeping quarters, Skylor had to admit, it was nothing compared to the luxury she was used to. With rows and rows of steel bed frames filled with thin mattresses. Skylor had to remind herself that the army was not a life of comfort, but a life of war.

It surprised her how she was able to get some rest that night–probably from the fatigue of the previous day. She turned to the sleeping figure of her best friend and forced herself to get up.

"Nya," She shook her body. "Nya we need to go."

"Five more minutes, mum." Nya mumbled in her sleep, forcing Skylor to pull the blanket away from her figure. The air was cold enough to get her to wake up. "Hey!"

Skylor jerked her head to the girls who were rushing to put their uniforms on. "We need to go."

"Alright, alright. I'm going."

Skylor didn't bother to make her bed, grabbing her uniform from beneath the thin, steel bed frame, and rushing to change her clothes. As far as she could remember, she had only been punished once in her lifetime, and it was enough to get her not to do it again.

It was a sunny afternoon when it happened. When she got down from the limo her father always rode around in, Clouse having a firm hold on her shoulder. He guided her into the house, kicking at the back of her feet to get her to walk faster so they wouldn't get caught.

"What did I tell you about going outside?" Her father had said, his tone harsh and when Skylor looked up to search for mercy in his eyes, she found none. He was dragging her through the hallways of their house and Skylor could not understand where he was taking her.

He tugged on her shirt when she didn't respond. "N-not to go." She stuttered, absolutely terrified of her father's wrath.

"And what did you do?"