Defying Terror

Chapter XIII

August 12th, 2030, 12:15 pm 

The mass of recruits marches down the barracks hall in a single-file line. The girls walk on the left, and the boys on the right, respectively, according to rooms. Our names are supposed to be posted outside of the room we are assigned to, although after about ten doors, my name is nowhere to be seen. I don't know how many bunkrooms there are, but there is still a vast number of us boys, still searching.

The girls' line was swallowed up in mere minutes. There were only a few rooms to the left side of the hallway, and they all dove into those. I guess there is such a small amount of female recruits that they don't need a whole lot of space for them. As for the guys, we must be high maintenance, considering that I can still see vacant rooms down the hall from where I still saunter in line.

How big are the rooms, actually? I keep looking at the lists of names posted by the doors, and it's nothing short of enormous. There has to be over sixty names in one grouping. Being pushed in the back by the guy behind me, I couldn't get a good look at the inside of one of the rooms. Drake ahead of me is creating a gap between us, too, so I can't dilly-dally and soak it all in.

The barracks hallway is confined and narrow, with rod lighting above our heads. The seaweed-colored paint is chipping away at the walls, with the frigid, pale yellow tiles forming bubbly mold along the bottom edge. The scent of sharp lavender fills the air as if someone just came through here and sprayed the place down seconds before we got here. This place could use some work.

Next to a door labeled 116, the list of names draws out. The very last one on here says, Slater Tross, and again, with an asterisk northeast of the final s. At the bottom of the page, all it mentions is the word "caution." I guess I'm dangerous to them. That must be there so that the ranking officers can know where I am in case shit goes down.

I break out of the line and enter room 116. The area is now encased by a dark gray paint, but keeps the tile floor beneath my feet. In the center of the room, there is an aisle between two rows of bunk beds, to my right and left. Both walls have sixteen double beds, meaning there are thirty-two beds on each side. Sixty-four beds for sixty-four teenaged boys in a single room. Great.

Facing the center aisle, on every bunk bed, there is a tag plastered on the metal rods. On the each tag is a name. So, I guess we're also assigned beds, now. No picking and choosing around here. I start on the right side, perusing through all of the names, trying to locate mine. Some kids have already found their beds, so that eliminates a few options.

On the top bunk of the eighth pair, I see my name against the glare of the box lights over our heads. I read the whole tag, to be certain that it's mine. It sure is, except now my name is changed to "Slater Gross." The T was replaced.

I hear some cackling behind me. Upon twirling around to see who it is, my attempt at a straight face reduces to a frown. Luke, Don, and Richard are all standing there, next to their bunks, glaring at me. Don't get yourself into trouble, Slater. They're just trying to stir the pot.

I give them a slight nod, turning back to my bed. "Good one, guys."

While I examine the rest of the tag, trying to ignore them, I catch wind of heavy footfalls coming my way. Before long, Luke hovers over me to my right, and the twins stand stoutly to my left. If they don't back up, I'll make them. I've already had enough of these idiots.

"Looks like we're roomies, Slater," Luke announces with a snake grin. "That means we're assigned to the same group, too. This is gonna be a fun two weeks."