Segment from 2018 Nanowrimo
Chapter: Devan Calder // Alcatraz
"Hello?" A soft voice spoke. "Anyone here?" It sounded almost like a child's voice. "I'm scared and want my mom." Her voice got weaker and crying could be heard. Devan's eyes opened up and she looked around the truck. She noticed a young girl towards the end of the opposite side. Devan shifted her position so she could see the little brunette girl even better.
"Hey... I'm here. Don't worry. Everything is gonna be okay." Devan did her best to comfort the little girl from afar. She looked towards the young girl, who sat up to look back at her. Tears ran down her face and she hugged her knees in tight.
"Don't give her false hope." A deeper voice came from a closer range to Devan. She turned her head to the side to see a man slumped up against the wall as well. He blended in with the motionless, sleeping bodies that lined the walls. She's not sure she would have realized that he was awake had he not said anything.
"We both know where we are going, and we also both know that no one ever gets out unless that are recruited for the Hound program." He slightly moved his head to look at the white-haired girl. She clenched her jaw, giving him a look to show her disapproval.
"What?! She is gonna have to know eventually. She's gonna grow up in that facility and spend the rest of her life there." He scoffed, turning to look back to the ground. Devan shook her head and turned back towards the little girl.
"Don't listen to him, sweetie. You'll be just fine and you'll get back home to your family. You do have a family, yes?" Devan spoke in a soft tone. The young girl glanced between Devan and the man, who looked to be around the same age as Devan. She turned back towards Devan and slightly nodded her head.
"Do you know where you are from?" Devan asked again. She could see the little girl's hesitation as she continued to hug her knees close.
"Don't bother." The man repeated. He looked back up towards her, shaking his head. "I promise you, it's best to not get personal with other inmates."
"Can I at least know their name?" She scoffed, clearly being annoyed by the fact that he keeps butting in.
"No. That makes it more emotionally connected. Use your number." He flashed her his arm. There was a 9 digit code on his arm. She frowned, surprised that she hadn't even realized that there was one on her own left arm. She pushed up the long sleeve sweater she wore to see a similar code on her own.
CA0027312
"What is it?" She frowned in confusion, peering down at it. It wasn't inked on her skin, nor branded but it looked to be embedded within it. It had a green tint to it and it seemed to disappear each time she put her arm down and then reappear when she lifted her arm to look at it. The number appeared and disappeared like a piece of separate technology
"Your ID number. It's how the prison keeps track of us. The CA stands for the state -- California -- and the number is the number of prisoners that has been admitted over the years." Devan continued to run her thumb over the code as the man went on explaining it. But she quickly frowned in confusion and looked down towards him.
"Wait California? I was in New Jersey, why am I being sent to California?"
"Its where you were born. I was in Illinois and my friend over there, was visiting from Texas." He pointed towards another man that was still very much passed out form the dosage of whatever they gave them. "We are all from all over the US but we get sent back to Cali because it is where we were born." He shrugged, turning back towards Devan..
"So, we are in custody of the Containment for Altered Humans? We are going to their facility? Do you know which one?" She began to bombard the man she at first despised with questions.
"Yep, welcome to your new life." He shrugged, seeming to accept his fate of living within the facility for the rest of his days. "There are approximately 5 different centers in the state so its hard to say which one, unfortunately." He paused, trying to look over at Devan's number.
"Oh! 312. Those are my last three digits." She nodded. the man did the same and without looking, read his off.
"113."
"401." The soft voice from down the way spoke up as well. Devan looked towards the girl with a soft smile. "And I'm from New Jersey too." Her soft, innocent eyes looking up towards her. Yet, she continued to hug her knees in tight. Devan would be lying if she didn’t want to also hug her knees in tight. She was just as scared as the little girl down the ways. She hoped it was all just a bad dream but from the cold metal pushing against her wrist and the subtle cries that grew from within the truck, she knew she couldn’t dream of something so heartbreaking.