Dawn Of Rebellion Collection

12. Gabby

The next morning is an improvement. My headache has turned to a dull beat against my temples and I can deal with that. It seems that my little walk last night did me some good because my whole body seems to want to work with me today.

Someone must have been in here recently because beside my bed is a new cup of water, a piece of bread, and a bowl of something kind of like oatmeal. In England, oatmeal was a food for the lower classes. Some days, we lived on the stuff. Others, we couldn"t even afford that. It"s pretty tasteless, but in my world, food wasn"t for enjoyment, only nourishment.

I eat quickly and step outside. As soon as I do I"m in the midst of a stream of people all headed in the same direction. I decide to follow the group and we end up walking for what seems like the better part of an hour. People are chatting and acting like this day is just like any other. Once again, no one talks to me or even looks at me. It"s strange and frankly only adds to my hatred of the place.

By the time everyone has stopped walking, we"re in the middle of a forest. Rows and rows of trees stretch in every direction. The trees are covered with oranges. When we were little, Dad bought us oranges every chance he got.

Since then, they were another luxury that only the rich could afford.

And now I was here to pick them for the very people who sent me to this place. Wonderful.

Before even my parent"s generation was born, fruit wasn"t all imported into England like it is now. England had a warmer climate for parts of the year. But the world is forever changing. As the icecaps melted, the ocean stream that warmed that part of the world was diverted.

I don"t know much more than that. Dawn was always the geek who actually listened to her lessons. I didn"t need to study much since I always knew they"d put me in the military.

All I know is that it means England can"t grow oranges. Now I also know their slaves do it for them. Bastards.

We"re all standing in the middle of a clearing waiting for something; I"m not really sure what. A car drives up and beeps three times so that everyone scrambles to get out of the way. As soon as it stops, the door on the left opens and the driver steps out.

The driver is a large man in some sort of uniform. He"s tall and tanned from the sun. With black hair and dark eyes, he"s intimidating. He steps in front of the group and starts barking orders.

“Today isn"t going to be fun, but then, you weren"t sent here for fun.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “You will be here until dark and I expect every bin full by the time you leave.” As he says this, he points behind him at a stack of massive crates. “Now get to work.”

I seem to be the only one dismayed by what we were just told. People start moving and it"s almost like a synchronized dance. Everyone knows what their job is; well, everyone except me. Groups of workers move to different areas. I suspect they"re assigned. The men have begun climbing trees while the women are down below putting oranges into their baskets. I"m not really sure where I should go, so I just choose a group nearby that looks like they could use my help. The three men and five women in this area don"t say anything to me as I walk up to the nearest tree.

The work is much harder than it looks. I have to use all of my strength to pull each orange. At this rate, I"m scared I won"t last very long in my weakened state. One of the young women from my group must have seen me struggling. “You"re doing it wrong.” She walks over and reaches towards the tree. “Don"t pull. Twist the fruit and it"ll be much easier.” She demonstrates as she explains.

“Thanks.” I try to be as nice as possible so that maybe she"ll stay and talk to me.

“We don"t want you to get tired. Then you"d be useless to us. There"s no room for that here.” After her blunt admission, she shrugs and walks back to the rest of the group.

The remaining part of the day passes without incident. I"m left alone, but I work hard. We"re able to fill up the crates and more. By the time the sun finally disappears, I"m knackered. We walk back to camp, or whatever they call it. Just as I"m reaching my door, I get the feeling that I"m being followed. I look around and don"t see anyone. I walk around to the side of my hut to check it out and there she is. The little girl I met the other day is trying to hide the best she can.

“Claire, right?” She just nods. “Why are you following me?”

Claire stays silent and just looks up at me with those big eyes.

I bend down to meet her eyes. “Claire, where"s your mom? Isn"t she going to worry when she can"t find you?”

At this Claire finally looks away and speaks, “Mommy is gone, and Amanda is at the fires. Jer"s at our place.”

I"d just assumed Amanda was Claire"s mom. She"s a young girl so she must have been born here. I can"t imagine anyone imprisoning her. “Who"s Jer?” I ask.

“Brother.” My heart melts for this girl.

“Come on,” I offer her my hand, “Lead the way, and I"ll walk you to your brother"s.” Claire takes my hand and we walk in silence for a few minutes before Claire speaks up.

“Why can"t we talk to you?”

Her question surprises me. So, it"s not just newcomer hazing. “I don"t know, kid. I wish I did.”

“I don"t think you"re bad. The hot box must have been a mistake.” I don"t say anything to this because she"s actually made me speechless. Well, that"s one question answered. Everyone here must think I"m some murderer or something. The District Commander must"ve really hated me. But was it bad enough to deserve this fate? What kind of horrible person does that?

Without even realizing it, we"ve reached Claire"s place. It looks identical to mine in every way. Well, every way except for the tall, scowling boy standing out front.

“Claire,” he yells. “Get inside. Where have you been?” He glances at me standing there holding his sister"s hand.

“You must be Jer. I found Claire near my place and was just bringing her home.” I tread carefully.

His scowl deepens. “Name"s Jeremy. Only friends call me Jer. Stay away from my sister.” With that, Jeremy turns on his heel and goes inside.

I"m dumbstruck. What a prat. What the hell is his problem? I don"t care that his intense gaze made my hair stand on end or that his strong, stubble coated jaw is just about the hottest thing I"ve ever seen.

The guy is a d**k.

This place is going to kill me. I walk back to my hut, and collapse in exhaustion on my bed, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

My life hasn"t been easy is a long time, but this is different. I can"t help thinking that now my life is just … gone.