I was tired of all of the mysteries, the millions of questions, the suspense. I was done. Kazak had not helped me. I was in a sort of warehouse, with lumps of tarp covered objects. This didn’t answer anything. I wished that I could remain to know nothing, even as I had these questions. Knowing nothing was better than continuing to live with more and more questions. I wished it was dark, and still, and I could remain still and not get caught. “Wishing won’t help.” I muttered to myself. “I’ve got to be tough,” I told myself. I was afraid of learning the answers, afraid that the answers were worse than the questions. I bit down on my tongue, hoping that the pain would dispel the fear. Then I decided to take action. I stood up with every inch of my five foot 2 inches and 109 pounds.  I slipped off my watch into my pocket, knowing if I showed it, people might want to take it, for some unknown reason. I was guessing time travel. Was time travel normal in this time period, I wondered. First things first.

I was going to answer one of my questions, at least. What was under those tarp like things? The lumps were a dingy white, they felt like a shiny, smooth laminated paper.  I seized the paper like tarp, and it tore easily. I smelled something interesting. Under the tarp was supplies, in thin metal boxes which had bold printed names on them. Some of the names were in English, others not. The first box said, Bread. I carefully opened the small box, which had a printed instructions on the lid. 100 count, use sparingly, add a drop of Yeoni to use. Lasts 24 hours.  Inside were prepackaged pellets, and a bottle of the Yeoni, which was labeled as an water-yeast-oil mixture. Shake to use, it said.  I spent far to long studying the box of instant bread. I stuffed a few pellets of it into my pocket and the bottle of a Yeoni. I broke open another container, which held something called VatDisent, which I found out purified water. The other boxes contained things to sleep on, heal wounds, (like that Laser and Scorch mark healing pad) gels to numb pains, something called stimulants which accented your skills, and even something which was classified as a defense shield and a weapon. I wished I had brought a backpack, some of this stuff would have have been useful.

Then, I heard a banging noise. I stood up, red in the face. I knew I wasn’t supposed to open those supplies. I heard whispering in a language I didn’t know. Then, I saw them. They were standing in front of the entrance of the now opened warehouse, shouting in aforementioned language.  They seemed to be both shocked and angry, and were screaming at each other and at me. I stood up, and put my hands into the air.

There was a girl and a boy, both scarcely old than I was. The girl had short, choppy, brown hair with a blue streak to it. She wore a threadbare baseball cap that was covered with dirt and mud, and when it was new it must has been purple but now it was a pale lavender.  She had an angry face which had a few purple bruises and a small cut on her chin, and brown, yellowish eyes. She wore a nondescript gray, long sleeved shirt and loose, baggy gray pants which ended halfway down her calf. Her legs were scarred and dirty. She also wore thick soled black boots, also covered in dirt. The boy was dressed a similar way, but minus the cap and his pants were down to his ankles.  He had brownish blond, raggedly cut hair, and a scarred face and watery blue eyes that looked more bewildered than angry. They both looked rather scrawny.

The boy had stopped shouting. He instead started toward me, but the girl stopped him. The force necessary to stop him seemed to take most of her strength, and she stopped her tirade to catch a breath. The boy and the girl both stared at me. I stared at them, not comprehending them in the slightest. Finally, the girl asked something that sounded like a question. I shrugged my shoulders. The girl whipped out something and fired at my slight movement. A bolt of energy shot out of the object with a loud cracking noise. Frightened, I dived, but luckily she had fired far away from me. The boy yelled and grabbed something out of her arm, which looked small and flashy. They both conversed in scared, intense tones. I huddled on the floor, terrified and trying to be as small as possible, trying not to get shot at again. As if on cue, both the boy and the girl looked quickly at me, and started up. They both walked towards me, the small, sliver, object held out by the girl. I dared not move. The boy jerked me up, using what seemed like every once of his energy. Then, the girl jabbed the silver object, which resembled a hard drive, under my chin. “Nakl dousint.” The girl whispered, menacingly. I looked at her with wide eyes, and the boy motioned for me to go forward. The boy walked behind me, fixing some thin metal bands around my hands, preventing me from moving them and they grew tighter and more painful the more I twisted my wrists. The girl walked besides me, frowning and digging the device deeper into my neck every time I winced. We walked toward the opening in this manner. I wondered where they were taking me, whether even if I would survive the next minute, if I would get punished for taking the supplies.


One thought on “Part 7: In the warehouse.

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