Fragments by Caroline Green Page A

popping sound as a series of floodlights snap on. There’s a huge ugly building ahead on two levels, with blackened long windows. It’s a building that definitely wasn’t there a minute ago.
    ‘But how . . . What . . . ?’ the blond girl gives voice to the confusion I think we’re all feeling. Everyone is staring at the woman now with wide eyes.
    ‘It’s cloaking technology,’ she answers, as though she has said this a million times before and is bored with the whole thing. ‘It’s what you might call smoke and mirrors. Well, mirrors and light-bending paint, anyway.’
    I don’t know what she’s talking about but a wave of complete exhaustion washes over me then and I think that I don’t care what they do to me as long as they let me sleep.
    ‘You’d better get used to it,’ says the woman. ‘This place is full of surprises.’
    We’re taken inside the building, which smells the same as the army barracks but with a vague bleachy smell. There are bright lights that make my eyes ache and a few people dressed in normal coats or CATS uniforms walk by, eyeing us as they go.
    We’re told to line up and an unsmiling man dressed in uniform gives us a small paper cup and tells us to drink. I sniff but it looks like water. The blond girl says, ‘I don’t want to drink it. I don’t know what’s in it.’
    Without saying a word, the man grabs her arm and has her in a headlock before she can blink. He grabs her jaw and wrenches it open, while she squeals and kicks. He tosses the contents of the cup into her mouth, making her gag and choke but he slams her chin up so her mouth is closed and she swallows.
    The girl goes limp, and he lets go of her arm. She doesn’t cry, just fixes him with a look of pure hatred.
    ‘It’s not going to hurt you,’ says the guard. ‘But we can force all of you to drink it if we have to.’ He pauses. ‘Anyone else?’
    The others hastily tip the cups into their mouths, never moving their eyes from the guard.
    I look at the liquid inside the cup again, hesitating. If they’re forcing us to drink something, it can’t be good for us, can it? What the hell is it? If I have to be in this weird place, I want to be in control of myself.
    I’m not taking it.
    I know it’s insane. I know I’m only going to get hurt. But all the same I find myself tipping the cup upside down so the liquid splashes onto the white-tiled floor.
    The guard jumps back as some of it splashes onto his boots and eyes me with distaste. He sighs deeply and nods to someone behind me. My upper arms are seized by two more guards and they drag me along the floor. I don’t even struggle that much. I only wanted to make a point. But now I’m thinking I’m a bloody idiot. We get to a plain white door. They open it and push me inside. It’s like a cell, with a narrow cot bed and a toilet in the middle of the room with no lid. It smells rank and my stomach clenches. A woman comes into the room. She has curly brown hair tied back at the nape of her neck, wire-rimmed glasses and a pretty face. She comes over to me and it’s only when I feel a sharp scratch that I realise she’s plunged a syringe into my arm.
    A feeling of deep peace and calm instantly spreads through my chest and belly.
    ‘There now,’ she says. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I think she says something else but I’m being guided onto the bed now and a delicious feeling of sleepiness is washing over me.
    This isn’t so bad , I think. This isn’t so . .  .
    I’m burrowing down, deep somewhere soft and warm. I’ve never felt so safe and warm and sleepy. I’m a little kid again and Mum’s singing a song in her husky voice, stroking my hair. I start to laugh because I’ve never felt as good as this. Am I even allowed to feel this good?
    There’s the smiling woman again and it’s her stroking my hair now. She’s whispering something to me but I can’t really make it out so I just nod, and nod, and then . . .
    Pain screams through