Exiled
Chapter 1
All of the trainees are lined up in front of the row of tents, but not like usual. The camp leader is not standing before them screaming at how pathetic each of them is. Instead, I notice a tall, skinny man standing in front of them. The man is speaking to them, but I don’t quite hear what he is saying. I only hear the muttering of his high pitched voice. I step from behind a tree and creep closer to the camp. I am careful so I don’t get noticed. I’d been wandering the woods like I do every morning. It’s not something we’re supposed to do, but being stuck in the camp with about fifty other guys gets annoying. So much shit happens in a day that I like getting away from all the fighting, crying, and fucking.
I walk behind the large tent on the far left side of the camp where the camp leader stays. The tent hides me, and I creep past the side of the tent until I can poke my head from behind it and get a closer look at what is going on. As I poke my head from behind the tent, I notice multiple armed soldiers standing all around the trainees. This isn’t normal. Doing nonstop military training everyday with no explanation as to what we are training for is normal. But we never have visitors. No one ever comes to the camp.
“Don’t do this,” I hear someone cry out. “Please.”
The voice is of someone tied up in front of trainees. I recognize the annoying, squealing voice. It’s the voice of the survival skills training leader. There are others on the ground tied up with him in a circle. They must be the other training leaders and the camp leader. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but this looks bad— soldiers armed with guns, the leaders being tied up, and the trainees lined up in front of the soldiers. This is why we need guns. They should have known this would happen. There are two soldiers circling the tied up leaders. They pour liquid on them. They pour the liquid out of red containers in their hands. They shake the containers as they circle around drenching all of the leaders with the liquid.
“Children,” continues the tall, skinny man. “Your training is over.”
I watch as a flicker of light appears in his hand, and he tosses the light at the training leaders. Instantly, the training leaders’ shouts echo in my head as they burst into flames. I stand, mouth wide open, but not in shock. Shit happens. Not like this, but I’ve seen worse. All of the trainees watch the burning of the leaders, fear marked on each of their faces.
H. J. Ortiz 