The Festival of Light

Prologue

The men, women, and children of block 1618 huddled as close together as their chains allowed. The sun, which sat unperturbed in the sky, penetrated down on them in a million shards of light - piercing into every inch of uncovered skin. The ground smouldered, sending up disorientating waves of heat to sun-scorched bodies - a giant fire-serpent coiling around sagging limbs. It encompassed them, drowned them. For some of the group it had been mere days since they were last in daylight - a somehow welcoming change from the cold cell they were previously imprisoned in. For others, the damp cell had been their home for many months - this daylight blinded them.

From the back of the group, Calix felt a sharp headache coming on. His bones ached, protesting against the hours spent standing around, yet he refused to give into the urge to fall. He did not have that right. Having been one of the latest occupants of the block, he was determined to remain a pilar of strength to those who desperately clung onto living. He remembered his dad's words, to stand tall is to stand strong. He had set his mind from the very beginning to follow this mantra. He could not, would not, give his captors the satisfaction of weakness. Too many metal chains were weighed by those who had long since given up.

It had been before dawn when the guards had forced the prisoners out of their block earlier that day. Calix had awoken from a fitful sleep to pointed lights flashing over him as guards slammed their way into the much-crowded cells. He looked on as bodies were dragged from beds and onto sodden floors, watched as the disorientation created chaos. Limbs moved in all directions. Calix tried to help as many prisoners as possible get to their feet, hobbling himself with a leg that had been broken a few days previous. High pitched sobs echoed into the strobing lights as too many people were swept into the same direction, away from loved ones and into the erratic crowds.

From the far corner of Calix's sight three men were gunned down. An onslaught of screams ricocheting into silence, as all who remained inside watched the bodies fall. A sea of red cascaded from the back of their heads and onto the floor like a growing shadow. Calix felt his own blood drain from his face as sour bile rose to his lips, threatening to spill over. Urgent hands pushed him out of the room with shaky force. He waited breathlessly for more shots to fire. They did not. Stumbling slightly on the weight of his good leg, he followed the crowd as they propelled over the threshold, his mind ringing, body shaking and jaw clenched.

In the open air, a truck sat idling twenty metres away from the doors of the block. Guards beckoned threateningly for the prisoners to climb into the small trailer attached. Heat from the exhaust filtered over the group as they approached, the smell of harsh chemicals burning the prisoner's noses. For Calix, this burning chemical had been a constant companion in the city, it was like a slowly administrating poison, as though every breath he took was suffocating him. It was moments like this that this heart ached to be home. Home where the air was clean and where the people were free.

The truck his reached it ordinary capacity as one third of the prisoners had climbed into the trailer. Calix had half expected the guards to have divided the prisoners into smaller group. Those thoughts died as person after person was sardined into the metal box wedging themselves against bodies, clinging to any free space available. There was no free space. When the doors had closed behind the final prisoners, not a single person was able to move more than a centimetre in any direction. No one could let out so much as a breath without encroaching into another's space.

Inside the trailer, the smell of sweat and urine quickly permeated over the crowd. Though most had become accustomed to the smell from their block, with forty people sharing two buckets changed only once every few days, this compactness created new issues to handling the distinctive odour. As the truck set on its course, bumpy roads with multiple turns, the smell and wretches of vomit soon joined the pungency of the other bodily fluid. The smell was deadly, acidic.