A Shrouded World 6 Bitfrost by John O’Brien

Author:John O’Brien
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: DevilDogPress
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

7

JACK WALKER – CHAPTER FIVE

THERE’S a vast gulf of nothing, then comes a tiny spark of awareness. It slowly emerges from a great depth, pushing to the surface in a fog. I wouldn’t call it consciousness, but rather being aware of becoming aware. It spreads until I faintly realize that I’m still alive, but not much more than that. Something tight is wrapped around my arm as if someone is gripping it. The boot up process completes and I realize I’m lying on a bed of some sort.

Opening my eyes, everything is a blur that gradually sharpens over the next couple of moments. I’m in a small room made of concrete blocks and lying on a cot or thin bed. The pressure I feel on my arm is a bandage placed under my sleeve, covering the staple wounds. One side of the room is taken up by iron bars; a man stands on the other side. The uniform he’s wearing is nothing like I’ve ever seen. Various shades of brown mixed in a pattern kind of between a digital and tiger stripe.

Wait…I have seen that variation before…when I emerged from the cave into the battle. The squad members who were running up on the flank, the ones I engaged, were wearing something very similar if not the same. So, I’m in a jail cell being held by the military on that side. The only one who can actually put my face to that firefight is the medic I let go. I wonder now if that was a mistake.

I sit up, noticing that I’m still clad in my black fatigues with the shoelaces removed from my boots. My pack and weaponry are gone. The guard glances into the cell and grabs the mic clipped to his shoulder.

“The prisoner in cell six is awake.”

I rub my eyes, attempting to vanquish the last vestige of the fog still hanging around in my mind. My plan had been to locate a military base, and it looks like that’s turned out easier than I had imagined. However, I had originally thought to assimilate myself into the surrounding environs until a year had passed. There was a second plan, which I now have no choice but to attempt.

I look at the man’s rank insignia. The other Jack and I talked often about our military experiences when we were out on our nature hikes. Okay, we might have been out in nature, but the hikes were mostly composed of fleeing enemies. We shared stories and talked about the differences in our military structures. I thought we were just wasting time, but the knowledge he imparted might come in handy.

“Under Sergeant…why in the fuck am I in a cell?”

The large man looks over his shoulder, eyes me up and down, and turns back to staring forward. I’ll get nowhere with him. Nor should I, really, but I have to impart my outrage as part of the illusion I’m attempting to present. Before I can continue, there comes the sound of a door opening.

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