A World Without Him

A World Without Him

Chapter 16

Tang couldn't feel his legs. Or his arms. Or even his torso, for that matter. He couldn't feel anything. It felt wrong, like he wasn't connected to the world anymore. Like he couldn't even try to scream or yell or shout at his troubles when there isn't anything to hold onto in the first place… where did my throat go…?

He continued to float(? he couldn't really describe what he was feeling). Nothing changed; nothing burned his eyes out of his skull, nothing overloaded his hearing with whispers, nothing grabbed or scratched with such desperation. For some reason, this didn't feel like his void. It couldn't be. It just felt wrong…

But before he could ponder anymore, he felt a slight pull. It was yanking at what he assumed was his wrist, dragging his arm (which he could now feel, even if it was mainly just static) towards somewhere unknown.

He didn't react, though. Well, it was more like he couldn't. Everything just felt numb. Nothing he could try would affect anything here, even his differing emotions. And so he just silently swayed with little apprehension; the pull grew stronger and stronger, enveloping his body with heavy pressure that seemed to swallow him whole.

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He could feel his body again. Scratchy blood, thin sheets, a hard mattress, and a pounding headache all came in a rush, forcing Tang to stir at the sudden feeling. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples as his ratty hair hung on his neck. He felt like he hadn't slept at all.

Blinking spots out of his eyes, he noticed he didn't seem to be the only one up at this time. He could hear someone mumbling to themself rapidly, someone chatting with another about boring topics such as supply routes and drills, and one that seemed to be meditating as they breathed loudly while sitting perfectly still on their bed.

He couldn't really see any of these people, though, as his glasses were still under his bed. Well, hopefully, that is. He had just started to lean over and under his bed when loud feedback drowned out any other noise and caused him to flinch, alerting everyone at the camp of an announcement.

“Attention all soldiers and workers! This is your daily wake up call! Soldiers, go to your respective training facilities and check in with your superiors. Workers, you should head out to your assigned buildings immediately! You have 30 minutes for hygiene before your time is up, and any late participants will be punished accordingly! That is all.”

The speakers clicked off and everyone around Tang started to rise, quickly gathering what seemed to be uniforms by the matching colors. They all left the beds messy and carelessly pushed the tent flaps aside as they walked out. Tang scrambled to grab his glasses, and when he had them on there were only 2 people still in the tent.

He quickly looked for his own uniform, finding it under his rickety bedside table. It was just a dark blue outfit of a t-shirt and long pants. He grabbed them and his boots harshly before sprinting to the front of the tent, which wasn't that fast considering his exhaustion.

Oddly, there was someone still in the tent when he got to the flaps. Through his harbored breath Tang saw that he was probably a punished soldier by the slight tanning and the ramrod posture the guy had. He was kind of skinny, with short brown hair that was greased back and piercing brown eyes as he stared him down.

Tang didn't know what the guy’s problem was, and he didn't want to find out as he threw the flaps out of the way and hurried to what he assumed was his group. They were standing together in front of the fountain, surrounded by other soldiers in their own green and brown uniforms.

He walked over nervously, shuffling to the back of the group as one of the soldiers around them spoke up. “Welcome back malingerers. Today you're doing something fairly simple: manual labor in building 6. You can thank the fresh meat for that one. He could barely stand syraight for more than half a second on arrival.” The soldier seemed smug as all the group turned to stare at him, causing Tang to start fidgeting nervously.

It was like they were seeing an interesting bug on the ground. Noticing how he moved, looked like, and seeing if he could be a threat or should just leave him be for natural selection to take its course. They seemed to deem him uninteresting, thankfully, with most of them turning their heads back to the front except one.

That one had greasy black hair going in all directions. His eyes seemed crazed as they were wide and bloodshot while he stared into the back of Tang’s head. Tang tried to ignore the clear wacko, turning his head back with the others. Of course I'm already being targeted by the insane character.

“You’ll start working with supervision from 8 AM until the soldier in charge, ME, signs you off and walks you back to your tent. The bathrooms are near the entrance, and is where I'll be leaving you all to change and shower if need be. Now follow along.” The soldier smirked as he started to walk back and towards a one-story brick building.

They all followed without much hassle, except for two of the guys near the front which everyone had to pass by. One was laying on the ground and refusing to move, even with threats of violence by the chaperones, and the other started to wander off and had to be dragged back multiple times. Both were being heavily chastised, but everything said to them seemed to go in one ear and then out the other.

Walking past those two while holding his clothes tightly to his chest, Tang hurried through the double glass doors. He was struck with the violent glow of fluorescent lights as he stumbled in, accidently knocking into the guy in front of him. The guy had no reaction other than staring ahead with a blank expression.

Mumbling out a short apology, Tang stepped back and looked up at his surroundings. It wasn't as big as he’d expected, but that's probably because of the washing machines lining the left and right walls. Foldable tables were scattered on the empty floor, with people in that same blue uniform milling about and scrubbing those brown and green uniforms.

This is depressing. He thought, seeing how everyone seemed dead inside or completely up in the clouds. After these short observations, he saw everyone headed towards the bathrooms, and he decided to do the same. This was mainly to clean himself up after that attack: the dried blood with the assorted dirt and leaves on him was starting to become unbearable.

Walking through the door with everyone else, Tang booked it towards the nearest sink. He set down his clothes between his feet and rolled up his dirty sleeves, taking off the guaz above his elbow and starting to scrub the hell out of his arms with the cheap hand soap provided. Ignoring the odd absence of the cut from the interrogation, he focussed on how the flakes of red and black slowly swirled down the drain. After that water finally became clear of either color, he grabbed an old wash cloth to dry off.

He heard some start to take showers, with the sounds of running water filling the bathroom. He thought of doing the same, but he wouldn't know where anything would be, probably leaving him naked in the middle of these people. Quickly discarding that idea, he turned to the mirror above his sink.

He saw the small scrapes and smudges that dotted across his face first, most likely from when he was “passed out” and Cian did whatever it did. The second Thing he noticed was his hair. It easily passed his shoulders now, and has some streaks that were lighter than the rest. It was matted from sleep and filled with grime from when he got here. He could only groan. This'll take at least most of the next paragraph to take care of.

He started picking out the big stuff, like dead grass, and brushing out what he could with his fingers. It hurt, obviously, but now it was only slightly bad to look at. He looked around and saw a small cupboard between a few sinks down, hopefully holding a hair brush. But then, when shuffling his feet, he caused his pile of clothes to fall over and the roll of gauze he got last night to roll a good couple of feet before bumping into a wall and falling pathetically.

Tang looked at it confused. He didn't remember picking it up. However, he doesn't remember much of anything to begin with, and he probably just packed it between the uniform by mistake. He picked his stuff up and walked over to the roll, picking it up too and heading to the cupboard. When he looked in it, all he could find was air freshener and some toilet paper packed into a corner.

Closing the cupboard, he turned around and almost immediately bumped into another person, causing Tang to stumble back and the guy to fall onto his butt. “Dang it… hey, are you okay?” Tang spoke slowly, holding onto his clothes a bit tighter.

The guy just nodded, pushing himself up and dusting off his clothes. He had medium length gray hair with messy bangs that covered his eyes. He looked pale, but Tang guessed that was how he normally looked based on how the guy wasn't thin in any way you put it. He looked like he could probably snap Tang’s neck in 5 seconds if he truly wanted to, which made it weird how easily he fell.

Awkward silence engulfed them, with Tang averting eye contact and the guy fidgeting his his hands. Suddenly, the guy went to pull something out of the cupboard behind Tang, making the scholar flinch away as the guy retrieved… a brush?

To be fair, it wasn't anything high quality, but a brush was a brush. Tang only had some shreds of dignity left, and he really didn't want to waste them begging some trouble maker for a pink plastic hair brush. But, thankfully, before he could give it up, the guy silently shoved the brush into Tang's chest.

After some slight shock at it being easily handed over, he noticed he notion felt oddly familiar. “Hey wait, weren't you the guy who gave me gauze last night?”

The guy nodded. “Oh. Thanks for that, I guess. There isn't even any scarring… Uhm, anyways, what's your name?”

The guy pointed to a name tag on his shirt. Well, the term name tag is being generous. It was really just a piece of duct tape on his chest. It read “Carlson F”.

“Well, n-nice to meet you. Thanks for the brush, by the way. How did you even find that? I didn't see anything other than-”

“It's ‘cause he stole it from the women's bathroom and hid it behind the toilet paper.” A cocky voice interrupted. Tang swerved his head towards the source; the guy was leaning against the wall with a small grin. He had short black hair, with small purple highlights throughout.

He took some steps forward towards the two. “You can call me Rick.” Rick held a hand out for Tang, and he shook it nervously. Rick raised an eyebrow at that.

“C'mon~ there's no reason to be so tense here! Is it because Carry here showed you you're stuck with a bunch of “lunatics”?” Rick’s grin grew sharp at the final word, staring Carlson down. Carlson responded with a glare back.

“Well, no. I, uh-” Tang tried fumbling for a coherent answer, but was saved the effort by a shout near the entrance of the bathroom.

“5 minutes, people! Every minute of work skipped is a lap around the camp!” The soldier in charge yelled out. Rick just rolled his eyes and let Tang's hand go, and Carlson left them both to head out of the bathroom.

Rick threw an arm around Tang's shoulders. “A word of advice. Carry only acts in his own self interest. He's in here because he tried to desert his post near where you popped up. He'll probably use you as a scape-goat if he tries to escape again, since you're the talk of the town right now. Don't trust him, or anyone here, for that matter; other than me of course.” Rick whispered with a wink before walking out of the bathroom himself.

Tang just grimaced, looking down at the hair brush he was given. He was obviously suspicious, and didn't know who he could rely on here. Pushing that problem off for another time, Tang quickly changed into his uniform with the combat boots.

He had wrangled his hair best he could, but there's only so much he could do in 3 minutes. His hair stuck out awkwardly in the braid he made, but he was happy with it and tied the end with some of the gauze he got from Carlson. He rushed to the door after he was finished, getting out only seconds before the head soldier blew his whistle.

“Alright. Y’all already know the drill down here. One of you, go help pipsqueak operate the machines correctly.” The soldier said absent-mindedly waving a hand at the group.

Tang got offended at the blatant insult. “I know how to work a washing machine-”

“No one here cares, noodle arms. Now, is anyone gonna volunteer, or do I have to- oh, Carlson. Didn't expect the lazy grunt to be up for more work. Well, that works for me I guess. Go to your stations and start doing something useful.” The soldier shoos away the group, leaving Carl and Tang standing next to each other.

And then, before the scholar could ask anything, Carl took Tang's arm and started to drag him between the tables, leading him to what he assumed would be his work station with all the other poor souls working for less than minimum wage.

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It had been a bit difficult learning which button does what and how to get rid of stains of all kinds with someone who doesn't talk, but it worked out in the end. Everyone here basically had to wash and dry uniforms, sheets, tents, etc, for a good chunk of the camp.

It's good that Tang is the best at zoning out during tedious work, or else he probably would've become brain dead at the repeating tasks. No one caused any trouble surprisingly, which Tang was thankful for, but he also wished that he wasn't even here. That he had free reign to read and discuss things with his old friends like he wanted to do in the first place.

His stomach cramped at the thought of having tea with his colleagues. They had breakfast bars handed out to them near the start of his work, but they were as bland and unfilling as soaked cardboard. He sighs, thinking back to Pigsy’s noodles and how he would probably kill just to taste them again, even if he was still stuck here.

He had just finished cleaning mud off some pants when he was knocked out of his thoughts by a slight tug on his wrist. Looking up, he saw Cian sitting on his table and looking at him with its head tilted in question.

‘What exactly are you doing?’

After throwing the pants into the machine to his left, he picked up a shirt with blood on the sleeves and started working on that. Manual labor. Stuff they make prisoners do while they're stuck.

Cian observed Tang’s expression, seeing the stress in the creases of the scholar's forehead. ‘I scoped the area out last night. The place we came in is now heavily guarded with at least 4 people actively patrolling around it.’

Tang finished scrubbing the blood on one sleeve, moving to the other. So we really can't leave?

‘I never said that. I just need time to recharge after getting you away from the earlier attack.’

He finished the other sleeves, chucking the shirt into the machine and picking up another shirt, but now covered in what seemed to be ketchup. And this is why I need to learn my own abilities. I have bubble shields I've used before! Can you show me how to enhance that, or at least use it on command?

‘That power is one I'm… unfamiliar with. I never seemed to have needed a shield in my life, so I never needed to activate it. I can't help you with that one.’

The ketchup on the shirt refused to go away, no matter how much scrubbing or chemicals Tang threw at it. He grumbled angrily and shoved it harshly into the machine, adding detergent before closing the door and starting it up. ...How long do you need?

‘At least a week. I'm sorry, but you'll have to be stuck in this place for a good long while.’

Tang just yelled into the air, smashing his head against his station table. Many people looked in his direction before going back to their own jobs, pitying the new soul trapped in the same cycle as them all.

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