RE:volt! Chapter 11: Phase 1
Two days later, the day of the plan.
Sitting on the cold grassy ground with his morning rations in hand, a half of a brown vegetable and a stick of jerky, Ark raised his hand as he observed the other cadres running drills.
"What six-two-six?" A helper asked, his baton tapping his shoulder.
"I have to use the latrine." Ark replied with several nearby kids eating their rations inching away from him.
"Piss yourself."
Well fuck.
"I have to go poo." Ark quickly stated, drawing looks from several kids.
"Well then shit yourself." The helper scowled, only for another man to step in.
"Not during a march you idiot." His friend whispered. "Do you want to smell shit the entire time we move?"
"Ah… fuck, You gotta point." The helper scratched his chin. His face contorted into a scowl. "Make it quick. You've got five minutes. Every minute after is another lashing."
"Yes sir." Ark said, stuffing his mouth with his food and running off in the direction of the designated wooden hovels created to harvest fecal matter. Which were then used to feed the nitrate gardens in charge of creating saltpeter and fertilizer, two key ingredients coveted by the estate for something called gunpowder.
Of course Ark didn't go to the bathroom, but rather into the nitrate farms and greenhouse nearby, the place devoid of any life as most of the tending and gardening happened early in the morning before anyone woke with routine inspections occuring later on throughout the day.
There, Ark met Ninety-Nine, the man holding a basket and tending to crops, taking over the role of the usual slave who would be on this rotation.
"Do you have it?" Ark asked, the man frowning as he nodded and dug into his pants, grabbing the items hidden in the pockets that had been sewn into the innards of his trousers by Ark.
A hammer and a chisel. Tools belonging to the Master of the Constantine Estate.
"I hope you know what you're doing kid." Ninety-Nine grimaced, not sure why he felt so compelled to stick his neck out for the kid. "I'm taking a considerable risk for you. If caught they'd have my hands! And if you didn't know a slave kinda needs his hands."
"I do. I won't forget this."
Ninety-Nine lifted the white chisel and hammer, placing the chisel against Ark's collar.
*Clink!*
"There. It's done." Ninety-Nine said, the man striking the collar with one deft movement that displayed skill and experience with the tools he held.
Ark reached up, feeling the crack before he turned to a nearby window of the greenhouse and eyed his reflection and the state of his collar.
"Perfect." Ark said as Ninety-Nine quickly stashed the tools away in his trousers.
"Quit daddling n go Mr. Savior." Ninety-Nine hissed.
"Right." Ark said, heading to the exit of the garden only to stop at the entrance way.
"What? What are you waiting for? Go!"
"What year is it?" Ark turned and asked, his eyes narrowing.
Ninety-Nine"s face twisted with confusion.
"The thirteenth of Jasper VD Twenty. Why?"
Ark blinked, his jaw clenching for a moment and wanting to ask why the year had Jasper in its name. Yet he suppressed that urge. There would be time later, for now the answers to his questions needed to be postponed as he moved on to the next phase of his operation.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Ark said as he made his way back to the training grounds but not before falling over, making sure to scuff himself up in dirt.
"Ah, here's the pissant now." A helper said, pointing at Ark who made his way back to his cadre's seating area. "Bah, just shy of a minute over."
Ark said nothing, keeping to himself with his head tucked in and obscuring his damaged collar. It was too soon to be exposed. Right now, he needed to wait until the last possible second when the march began. When other cadres were away, when it would be too late to just cancel the event. Then he would expose his broken collar, forcing Bruno's hand to either divide his helpers to escort Ark to get his collar fixed, or task a red sash to do so.
Looking around, the children far outnumbered the helpers and Ark was banking on the numbers to sway Bruno into tasking the only nearby red sash who was of course Ninety-Nine.
You are so confident in your plan. Irelix commented, the dragon sounding bored. What if nothing goes as planned and he just kills you?
Then I die. Ark replied, scanning the crowd and noticing Thirty-Four staring at him as Nine kept poking her. The two made eye contact before she looked away.
Simple as that.
Irelix made a strange noise, almost like a rumbling as an image of the draconic woman smiling played in his mind.
Ark dispelled the thought, focusing on the task on hand as groups were called up and marched out of the barracks area under the watchful gaze of Knight Bruno.
The man stood on a podium, hands on his waist with a smile plastered on his face, the man deriving some form of entertainment lining kids up and marching them in formation.
"Cadre Four!" A helper yelled, Ark's group.
Immediately Ark, Thirty-Four, and the rest of the children belonging to his group rose to their feet and gathered in a tight formation.
Ark deliberately stood to the right end of the formation, making sure Bruno would see him.
However as he did so, Nine who stood to his left went wide eyed, her jaw clenching as she noticed the crack on Ark's collar.
She opened her mouth to say something and lifted her hand, attempting to switch places with Ark, but it was too late as the helpers ordered them to march.
It was a kind gesture, but he didn't need her interfering with his plan so he purposely shrugged the girl off as they walked in lockstep.
"Halt! Stop!" Bruno barked, the man's brow furrowing as his eyes settled on the cracked collar around Ark's neck.
"What the fuck is this?" Bruno whispered, the knight immediately beside Ark and reaching down, lifting the boy up by his collar to inspect the broken shackle.
His face scrunched as Ark's legs dangled and the boy's head bent at an awkward angle.
"What in Irelix's hairy ball sack happened to your collar?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR COLLAR?!" Bruno demanded, his eyes wide with fury before throwing Ark into the dirt.
Ark opened his mouth to reply, yet before he could a leather boot was planted in his stomach, the force of the attack making his mouth openly gasp for air.
Fuck!
"What happened to your collar boy?! What happened to your collar?!" Bruno roared, stomping on Ark as he demanded an answer.
"I-I-I fell!" Ark screamed, playing the part of a scared child which came easy as the pain he felt was very real.
"Fell? FELL?! ON WHAT?!" Bruno barked, kicking Ark so hard he skidded across the dirt and rolled. "Do you know how much time, effort, and money goes into producing those collars?! Those ain't yours to break you little fucking piece of goddamn shit!"
This time Ark was kicked in the mouth, knocking out several baby teeth that embedded themselves into the sand.
Ark blinked, his head spinning, his vision twisting as he focused on his bloody teeth buried in the sand.
He didn't dare look up, didn't dare to look at the man who could easily smash him against his boot like an ant.
It took all of Ark's willpower to maintain a sad face, to hide his fury, his glare, the overwhelming desire to gouge out the man's eyes and pluck the legs from the man's torso filling every vein of Ark's body.
Yet he refrained, using a trick he picked up from his last life and placing his palms against the dirt, forcing them open so they wouldn't ball up, wouldn't show his defiance as Bruno took out his baton and prepared to make an example out of Ark to the rest of the cadre.