The first letter I opened was the only letter I opened. After bring them inside and already having looked them over, I figured three of them were bills, and the other - from the US government. Naturally, I dropped all the others letters as I walked inside and opened the letter.
INDUCTION NOTICE, it read.
Dear Mr. Weismann Alfred Peare,
You have been selected for a matter of great importance for the United States. On October 9th, a draft that included all men and women in the Selective Service was executed. Ten people have been selected, and you are one of those people.
This conscription is for the military, so do not be alarmed in that regard. However, the task that you have been drafted for will most likely occupy you for years. More information will be given to you later about your specific assignment, when you will meet.
A ticket from your nearest airport to Bangor, Maine has been included in the accompanying package, along with an I.D. card with your name and photo on it. You will need this once you exit your plane and government officials meet you at the airport.
As your specific flight will be leaving October 17th, we advise you to pack quickly and inform your family of your departure. As communication will not be available when you get to Bangor, this is likely the last time you will see your close ones for a long time. Please do not tell anyone of this outside your personal family members. This is for security reasons. The US government may decide to bring charges against you.
This draft is not optional. This is a mandatory order from the Oval Office of the US government. Failure to attend the October 17th flight will result in your subsequent arrest and trial. An induction notice is a serious, federal matter and we hope you will honor this country by following this to the letter.
Thank you for your cooperation.
I gritted my teeth just remembering that stupid letter. How could they just, without a second thought, submit someone to this kind of torture?
Yohan's going crazy inside the Vandernon.
I think I might head down the same road.
Every corner you turn, you have to be careful. You might run into one of the others. Others like Yohan and I, the other eight that were drafted into this hell. They aren't friendly. There are limited supplies in here, and it's inevitably going to turn into some twisted modern version of Lord of the Flies soon. Did the government consider that?
I stopped. "Yohan? Did you hear something?"
He shrugged. "I wasn't necessarily listening." He drew a knife just in case, noisily though.
"Give me that," I said.
"No." Yohan kept the knife balanced in his left and dominant hand.
"What do you mean?" I asked, surprised.
"For God's sake get your own knife," Yohan said, exasperatedly. "But this one stays with me."
"You're inebriated," I said, as if that would help anything.
"Only slightly," Yohan admitted. "Move along, now, then." He prodded me with the knife.
I stepped to the side. "The man with the knife goes first."
"If you want to be that way," Yohan said, sauntering forward as I followed him, walking warily, ears amped up to full strength. Then they jumped us from the behind.