The Resistance

Chapter 3

The blaring sound of a fog horn ripped Ben rudely from his fitful sleep. He sat up sleepily, and gazed out the hole in his wall that he kept telling himself was 'supposed' to be there. Task masters with whips were lined up outside, and Ben could hear kids throughout the barracks shambling about, getting ready for the day's work. Then Ben realized with a start, it was his first day if work.
He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. And my last, He vowed silently.

Hesitantly, Ben stood on achy feet. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Still no memories that could get him out of here. All he had was common sense, and enough of that told him that escape was useless. But there had to be a way!
"Hey! New kid!" A rough voice barked just outside Ben's crooked door. "You comin' out or what?"
"Yeah, just a minute!"
"Kid, we don't have another minute! I'll give you ten seconds to get your bloomin' a-" Ben whipped open the door and stepped out. The teen on the other side immediately stopped talking to stare at him. "Whoa, theys wasn't kiddin'." Ben sized up the other kid.

He was maybe an inch taller than Ben was, with longer, ratty blonde hair streaked with dirt. He looked to be roughly 16-17 years old and was well muscled. He was wearing an old red t-shirt and torn up jeans with sneakers that looked like they'd been run over by a herd of cows. While Ben sized him up, he realized the other guy was sizing him up!

Sharp, piercing blue eyes looked Ben up and down, then he shook his head slowly. "Your in da- er, dang good condition. You'll get a promotion in no time." "What does that mean again?" "It means they'll promote you to be a soldier up on the walls. Better up there, than down here." The kid's face darkened. "Anyway, they call me Psych. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand, and Ben shook it. "Ben." "What?"
"My name's Ben."
"Who gave you that name?"
"My parents."
Psych's jaw dropped. "You remember your name?" He whispered. Ben blinked at him in the grey morning light. "Um, yeah. Don't you...?" Psych shook his head. "Naw man. Some kids barely remember common sense, like two plus two equals five, and water disentigrates into clouds, and dinosaurs were hunted to extinction by cavemen."
"Um actually-" "Don't say it, I've probably heard it before. Haven't heard any of that, have you? You only think that. They wipe your memories when they bring you here." "Who's 'they'?" Another horn tore through the air.

"We better go." Psych led Ben down the barracks hall and out into the sharp light of the sun. It wasn't happy sunshine. Against the grey work yard it seemed harsh and bright and mocking, the kind of sun that burns you just because it can. Ben cringed as he stepped out, but followed Psych closely so he wouldn't get lost. Psych led him to a large heap of dirt and two shallow holes. Two kids were already at work in one hole, so Psych and Ben took the other. They each picked up a shovel and started to dig.

The wooden handle of the shovel Ben was using was rough and splintered. Tan colored paint peeled slowly off the ends where it hadn't been worn off yet, and though sharp, the blade of the shovel was covered in rust and hardened earth. The wood pricked his hands and gave him small scratches and splinters as they worked, and for a while, the only sounds were the shovels hitting the dirt. Then Psych spoke.

"I left off...at a very bad part." He grunted between shovel loads. "They, are the gangs. They control us. We're they're slaves and soldiers, and eventually, we become them. It's a system, you see. We can't remember any other or better options, so we go along with it. Simple, really." It didn't sound that simple to Ben. Something told him there had to be another option, one he could only get if he escaped. He listened to Psych chatter on and on with him and the other workers, even the task master. Ben figured that if he needed to tell anyone, it wouldn't be Psych.

After a couple hours of digging in the rising heat of the day, another horn blast shook them out of their labored stupor. The blast was deep and low, deeper than the first one earlier that morning. Kids all around began setting down their tools or rocks, and began to stretch or sit down. "Hey, Psych, what did that horn mean?" Psych leaned back to pop his back before answering. "It's our lunch break. They'll be comin' around with rations and water soon. This is our only chance to rest until supper later tonight."