Winter Went | #2 Winter Series

Chapter 1

|| Amelia ||

The room is small. Better being small than big, I think, because it means less to memorise. Having spent three weeks in here, I know every nook and cranny, every little space, every marking on the wall however minute it may be.

Maybe it hasn't been three weeks here. I actually don't know. Lost count a while ago.

There's a small rickety bed with half its springs already snapped. Scratchy blankets lie scattered on it, a dull, flat pillow at one end. I haven't been in that bed since two nights ago and even then I kept tossing and turning, remembering in my sleep Josh's face. However unworthy of being in my head he may be, he's always there. Always lurking in the shadows.

A constant reminder of it all. Of how I got into this prison.

To the side, pressed up against a coffee-stained wall, is a metal desk bolted to the floor. Wouldn't want me lifting it up and smashing it on their heads, would they? Scattered on it are my things. Rucksack, a pack of mints, an aerosol can of lavender deodorant, my bus pass, and a few rotting lavender stems. They took the gun, the voice recorder, and the book of poetry a while ago, as soon as I arrived. They were fighting over the mints but then I got to keep them since no one wanted out-of-date Extra.

As for the gun and recorder. Well, I understood the gun part. But the recorder I secretly wanted them to take away. Whatever happened, I didn't want Josh's sweet voice anywhere near me. Nor did I want Sarah's harsh one, drawling out her confession.

A win-win for the guards and me, I guess. They gained the recorder. I gained the absence of it.

There's a doorway leading to the bathroom on the left. No door—they can't risk anything coming loose and being used as a weapon. And so I do my business in an en-suite with no door and no lock and, unfortunately, no privacy.

There are no doors. Only the bars of the cell leading outside into the corridor. There's a flap where they push the meal through every day. I still have my cereal bar from yesterday. Saving things is vital in this place because I never know when we'll have a shortage of food. And they won't be rushing to feed the prisoners first, I can tell you.

I sit on the bed now, legs crossed, blanket wrapped around me. My eyes are trained on the gate leading into the outside, away from this place. Don't even have to check the time to know that the guards will be pulling me away for a nice walk around in the yard. Not like it's a posh thing. Just tying us up, leading us around the square and then bringing us back in. No talking, no looking at each other. You just walk and hope you don't get questioned.

A voice coming down the hallway. No, two. Guards are walking this way and they stop by the cell next to mine. There's the rattle of keys and then a clank and a creak as the barred door swings open. They pull the prisoner out and I can hear the clicking of cuffs.

"No using that icy nonsense on us," one of them growls.

"Yeah," says the second. "We ain't in the mood for getting hit by ice-cubes."

I see what they mean. Almost everyone in this prison has the Power. The Power would have been an unusual thing a month ago, but now it ranges from North to South, East to West in its anger, inflicting everyone in its path.

All the others had the Power. Mum, Dad, Angie, Zach and Josh. Not Maisie,
though. I never saw her since we arrived at the Camp. Maybe she went wondering like she normally did. Maybe.

Footsteps. They're moving onto me now.

One of them opens the gate. I rise from the bed and head towards them, reaching out my wrists for them to take and lock.

"Good girlie," one murmurs. "Nicely done."

Shame they don't know any of our names. Not like they want to get to know us. We're just extra things added to their job description. Guard the prisons. Oh, and look after the prisoners for higher pay.

"Move," snarls the first one.

We move. I fit in with the others, keeping my eyes low, mouth pursed, shoulders slumped. The guards move ahead of us, guiding everyone down the corridor. And here we are, I can't help thinking. Just another day. Another normal day.

But that's not true. Not after what I see next.