Chapter 5 - Tested
A few hours after they had stopped, Missti still sat against the bars. She had gotten up a few times to stretch and pace, and do some light exercise. That was tricky, though. If the soldiers caught her doing this they immediately threatened her. She didn't want to test tem.
The soldiers were sitting under a covered pavillion they had erected, which was getting buffeted by the furious winds. The rain had started about 30 minutes ago, a steady drizzle for now. Missti could see worse on the horizon. It was early evening, and the sky was darker than it would normally be right now. The fires in the camp bathed the soldiers in warm light, enhancing their demonic appearances. Their white armor caught the flame's color, and their laughs, though jovial to them, sounded wicked to Missti. How could they live with themselves?
The woman who’d been coughing earlier was in the middle of an awful fit, her ragged, wet coughs having grown in intensity. Missti knew she was weak, so the strong coughs meant she was in really bad shape. Missti wanted to go help, but something within her stopped her. Fear? Hopelessness? Were they all in this together, or was it every woman for herslf? Missti was certain the poor girl wouldn't make it through the night.
Half an hour later, Missti snapped her eyes open. She had closed them to try and get some rest before the weather made it impossible. The soldiers were rising from their spots around the fire, and the shuffling of the girls in the cage had gotten her attention. They all huddled together, except for the sick woman who was left on her own. She was curled up in the fetal position in a corner of the cage, with the rest of the group keeping her distance. Missti seethed as she saw this. She should have helped the girl, or at least comforted her. She decided to do so now, and stood to walk towards the woman. Weak coughs occasionally emanated from the girl's location, muffled as he she tried to keep her head covered by her arms and in her chest.
The soldiers began dispersing to each cage. They brought water and loaves. They new the prisoner's thirst and hunger would overtake their fear of staying away, and they were right. The women all accepted offered water and food eagerly, and the soldiers looked lasciviously at all of them, taking in their now soaked bodies, with many of the girl's think clothing leaving little to the imagination now.
Missti approached the coughing woman and slowly pulled her up to sitting position, putting her back agains the bars towards the front of the cage. "Here, drink." Missti held her own cup up to the girl. The solidiers hadn't even bothered to leave anything for woman. If you didn't come and get it, they didn't care. The woman didn't react at first, but Missti held her head up and put the cup to the woman's lips, waiting for a moment where she wasn't coughing. She sounded bad. "You need to eat," she said. "Get your strength up. I'll try and help you stay warm tonight, but if you don't help yourself you won't make it. Work with me." The girl only coughed in response, taken by another deep fit. Missti hurt for the woman. She had to be absolutely miserable. She hadn't been spared the soldier's attention the first two days, either, and bore the signs of their abuse like all the others. Once she'd gotten really sick, though, they hadn't pulled her out, treating her like she had the plague.
Misst was rewarded with a very weak smile from the girl. "Thank you," she said. She closed her eyes and leaned back, saying nothing further. Missti sat next to her and wrapped her arms around her, doing her best to comfort her.
"You will catch what she has," the woman with the red hair who had approached her earlier said. "I feel bad for her too, but she's a goner."
"It's pneuomina," Missti said. "Not contagious. She probably had a cold when we were captured, and maybe I get that, but I'll risk it."
The other girl stared at her for a few seconds, and then retreated back to her spot to finish her loaf. The other girls were giving Missti curious looks. How quickly they had all devolved to into such primal states, invividuals able to focus on nothing but survival. They were in a living nightmare, but why not comfort each other as much as possible? Missti knew she hadn't been any better. Dare she try? She stood up with the intention of approaching the group to talk to them. All of them but Rhonda and the red head watched her warily, moving to try and get away from her. Were they afraid she was sick now, or were they actually scared she would hurt them.
She took a deep breath, then sat back down next to the woman. Fine, she thought. They can fend for themselves. Unfortunately, with little else to occupy her mind right now, her thoughts drited to her family.
They were all taken, beaten, or likely dead. Her brother Jason. Mom and Dad, and several dozen more from her town. She had seen them all being gathered after her family had been assaulted. It had been almost all women, but not entirely, and she still didn't know where her brother had ended up. They hadn't treated him the same as the rest of the family. That bothered her and took her mind to a dark place. How had the world come to this, where something like this was not only legal, but supported with military resources? Where woman and young girls were treated like this and just brazenly abducted, and anyone who resisted was beaten or killed?
Some of the women had gathered together and were muttering to each other. The soldiers had begun approaching some of the cages, a large group of them starting at one of the wagons and visiting each in turn. As they reached each wagon, some would pick out the night's entertainment. Screams, wails, and please permeated the camp as more women were pulled from the cages and hauled off. Some were taken to tents, but most were hauled towards the center of the camp near the fire under the pavillion. The pavillion strained in the increasingly strong wind, but the large ropes that were tied to the poles held fast. It seemed the soldiers were going to let everyone left in the cages witness their "party" tonight.
Some of the mutters in the cage became whimpers as the group reached their truck. A soldier strode towards their wagon, a long stun baton in his hand. It looked like most of the soldiers had found their fun for the night in other wagons, but this one searched their cage with his eyes. Missti thought he was looking for a particular girl, or perhaps trying to decide between a couple. He gave her no small amount of his attention, and she could tell he was irritated that she couldn't be taken.
His uniform, form fitting white pants and a long sleeve shirt of some type of weaved material were adorned with gleaming white plates of synthetic armor. This made them pretty resistant to most physical attacks. He was not wearing his helmet, carrying only his long pain baton and a couple smaller ones that were attached to his belt. She noticed he had a golden emblem on his chest, the logo of the Protectorate. This meant he had some sort of rank, though how high Missti was unsure. The soldier approached the cage, shinging a flashlight at them, slowly looking at them one by one. The light settled on Missti and the coughing girl she cradled, but it was the sick woman he focused on.
"Stanton, Smith. Attend me." He looked towards too soldiers that were carrying one unfortunate woman from the next truck over between them. Missti caught the briefest of frowns from both of them before they reluctantly handed their pray to another soldier, whot took the woman by the arm and hauled her to the pavillion. Yes, this man had rank to the point the other two had given up their fun without question, however disappointed they might be.
"Yes sergeant!" one of the soldiers said, rushing towards the truck.
The sergeant, which Missti assumed was signified by his golden emblem as well,spoke quietly with the men, pointing his baton towards the sick woman Missti held. The soldiers nodded and both pulled out stun batons as they approached the cage door at the back of the truck. Missti tensed, and the woman she held coughed again. Missti could hear her mother's voice in here head. She needs something warm inside her, and to be kept wrapped in blankets. Keep fluids in her, keep her comfortable, and keep her resting. Check on her frequently. She knew these things, but also knew she couldn't provide any of them, but the soldiers could. If they helped her she would most likely survive. Most likely...
The woman continued coughing as the soldier unlocked the door. The sergeant moved to the rear of the cage of standing at the unlocked door as the other two entered the cage, batons held up menacingly. The sergeant stood to make sure no one tried anything bold, and the other two started towards Missti and the sick woman.
Dare she get involved? What could she really do?
They walked her way, slowly. They each ignited a headlamp on their helmets, and the lights caused Missti to shield her face and blink, the brightness an unwelcome interruption in the dark confines of the cage. The storm was picking up, and the trucks shook as the wind grew more intense. Items that hadn't been secured well enough in the camp took to the air, blowing south, and the few fires that were lit sputtered, the wind helping feed them air but also causing them to twist and turn and spray embers everywhere. Some of the soldiers near the fires grabbed the captives they were playing with and moved them upwind, dragging them by their hair or pushing them along with the threat of stun baton. Missti saw one girl who was too slow to move take a boot to the backside, which sent her sprawling in the now muddy ground, face first in a puddle. The offending soldier laughed and grabbed her roughly by the hair, pullng her to her feet and dragging her off.
Dammit.
“Stop!” Missti yelled, standing up.
The other woman all scrambled to the corner, huddling together, except Rhonda who stayed at the front of the group. She eyed Missti curiously, but didn't cower like the others. The sergeant slammed the cage door shut, a precaution they seemed to take the moment they thought things could get difficult.
Missti took a deep breath, but didn't move. "She has pneuomina," she said. "She can be saved with rest, warmth, and fluids." Missti rested her hand on the woman's head to comfort her, hoping for some sort of sympathy from the soldiers, or at least the sergeant. If they had made the effort to take the woman, Missti assumed there was some value to her and they wouldn't just waste anyone.
The soldiers stopped, unsure what to do, looking towards their sergeant. He looked around the cage, taking them all in again, and then stared at Missti.
"Pull the sick one out," the sergeant said.
The sick girl stirred as she heard this, coughing weakly again. The two soldiers held their batons towards Missti. "Get back," one said. "She's going with us." Missti was torn. She could fight, but she didn't know if they were going to take her advice or if the girl would meet her end tonight. She had to hope she had gotten through to them.
The sergeant looked at the group of girls huddled in the corner. Rhonda was still slightly in front of them, a few feet away.
"Any volunteers?" he asked, a small smile cracking his lips. He looked directly at Missti as he said this. He knew he couldn't touch her, but wanted to torment her as much as possible. He also knew all the girls clearly understood what they were volunteering for. Missti actually wished she could, but was pretty certain she'd be laughed at. The girls huddled together, their fear returning in full force as they scrambled to be less visible. "Ok then I guess--"
Rhonda interrupted him. "Take me," she said, and moved towards the door. The soldier not holding the sick woman lowered his baton towards her and motioned her out.
The sergeant smiled at Missti as Rhonda went down the steps. The two soldiers followed, turning their heads away from the blowing wind and rain, which had picked up in the past few minutes. The girls huddled tighter, soaked to the bone. The wind whipped at their clothes and hair, but they stayed as quiet as they could, not looking at Rhonda or Missti.
The sergeant pointed at a tent on the other side of camp and nodded at Rhonda, who began walking that direction. The other two soldiers took the sick woman to the fire under the center pavillion. Missti realized she should have asked her name. That was always the first step when trying to comfort someone or gain their trust. She felt ashamed. Missti relaxed as she watched the soldiers set the sick woman down on a small stool near the fire. The woman swayed, but clearly welcomed the warmth as she rocked back and forth slowly. She coughed again. Hopefully this would be the start of her recovery.
Missti turned to the group of girls huddled in the corner. "We need to stick together. We can't be afraid to help--"
A slight cracking sound split the air, followed by a second one that was lower, but with a squishing sound added to it. Missti looked sharply towards the fire where the girl had been taken. She lay crumpled on the ground, and one of the soldiers that had taken her stood over her, expressionless, with a bloodied axe in his hands. The woman hadn't made a sound. She'd never seen it coming.
“No!” Missti yelled, sprinting across the cage and grabbing and shaking the bars.
The soldiers stood warming themselves by the fire, ignoring her.
"Bastards! Black hearted bastards!" She screamed. "She could have made it! Why go through all of this and throw her away so quickly!" Tears filled her eyes as she mourned the poor girl, rage permeated her voice.
Some of the other soldiers glanced her way, then turned back to what they were doing. The soldiers that had taken her ignored her. MIssti screamed at them a few more time before finally growing silent, her grief overtaking her. She didn't move from the bars, though. She would stand and wait for the sergeant to finish with Rhonda and give him a piece of her mind.
Almost an hour later, an hour spent standing firm in wind and rain and ignoring frequent lightning strikes that had most of the girls in the trucks crying, Missti saw the sergeant emerge from his tent. A second later Rhonda was pushed roughly out by two more soldiers that had been in there with them. She stumbled but kept her feet. From this far away Missti couldn't see if she had been further beaten. The sergeant walked her way, Rhonda following closely, and two soldiers with pain batons brought up the rear. They approached the truck and the soldiers opened the door to let Rhonda back in. Missti could see blood on her lip and a bruise forming on her face. She was holding her now completely torn clothes around her as best she could, but it was like trying to use a shredded towel to cover herself.
The sergeant glanced at Missti, seeing her tears and clenched teeth. Missti started to speak, but he did first. "She would have gotten others sick. You, the soldiers." His voice was emotionless. "I can't lose the herd over one cow."
“It's pneumonia!" Missti said, shaking the bars again. "If she had anything contagious we'd all already be coughing. She was probably sick when you took her and the conditions made her worse, not better." Missti couldn't keep the disgust from her voice.
"You'd better hope you're right. Damaged merchandise has to be disposed of." The sergeant looked at all the girls intently, and his words were obviously filling them with dread. "She was past saving. She wouldn't have lasted the night."
"You didn't listen to me! I told you what she needed. I could have kept her alive with even basic care." Missti let her anger show, but couldn't stop the tears from welling up.
“And you are the authority here?" the sergeant said, amusement showing on his face. "We can't touch by orders of someone way above our rank, but that doesn't mean you are anything but a rebellious scak of meat." He turned on his boot and started walking away. "Worry about yourselves and keep yourselves alive. If I think any of you won't make it, I'll speed up the process."
“I'm going to kill you,” Missti replied.
The sergeant paused briefly and smiled. "Keep that energy. You'll need it for what's coming, and it will serve you well in your next profession."
Missti sank to her knees, turning her back tot he bars. She placed her head between her hands and cried, defeated. At some point Rhonda came and sat next to her, but didn't touch her or say a word. Around them, the storm raged. Solders laughed as cries of horror filled the long, sleepless night.