the painful sensation left behind by Prescott’s wicked right hand. A bruise of the deepest purple had formed around the bottom of her left cheek. This once-eloquent lady had now been reduced to labour camp fodder—beaten and bound, and heading for a certain and quick death. This was to be her punishment for her role in what the government saw as a treasonous plot. Sadness hit her as she thought about her fortieth birthday, and the fact that she might not live to see it; even if she did, it would be the last and worst birthday she would ever have. Maybe they would keep her alive long enough for a special Labour camp treat—a full card of torturous delights before her execution. All of the captives in the transports were to be executed within a week of their arrivals to camp four. The sentence was handed down to them as they made the journey to their hell on earth.
‘What are you staring at, woman?’ the patrolman opposite barked in frustration, seeing her looking his way. ‘Eyes down, or I’ll knock you out.’
Her eyes widened and she looked towards the van’s harsh metal flooring. Her colleagues followed suit as not to incur the patrolman’s wrath. That is how they would stay until the journey’s end.
‘Not a peep out of any of you, do you understand?’ was the patrolman’s final demand.
#
Labour camp four loomed in the distance, and Miriam could feel every bump in the road as they headed down an off-road dirt track. She dared to look up again and felt the effects of having her head down for such a long time; an agonising stiffness had attached itself to her neck. She couldn’t shake the achiness.
‘Eyes down, you insolent bitch.’ the patrolman spat. ‘I don’t want to have to make good on my threat.’
She winced as she painfully forced her head back down again.
‘Anyway, we haven’t got far to go now—you think you’re in pain now? You wait ‘til you see what they have in store for you here.’ The patrolman sniggered, pleased with himself for imparting that small amount of knowledge to the unfortunate people opposite him.
#
The three vans screeched to a halt one behind the other, narrowly missing the lead vehicle’s bumper. Miriam and her cohorts were thrown violently towards the front of the van. Trying to keep their balance and remaining seated at the same time was difficult, considering they didn’t have use of their hands. She shoulder-butted a steel railing at the front of the van, screaming out in pain as her shoulder crunched into it. The patrolman laughed at her discomfort and did nothing to alleviate it, just watching as she writhed in agony. The situation was made worse by her cohorts ramming into her and damaging her shoulder further, causing a loose piece of metal to cut through her maintenance overalls and into her flesh. Quickly, the other two prisoners relieved their weight from her. This did not help the pain, as she now had to pull her right shoulder out of the protruding piece of metal.
‘Please, help me.’ she screamed, struggling to release herself.
All the patrolman did was revel in her misery, laughing maniacally at her misfortune.
She grew visibly angry at her captor’s lack of compassion and began growling in frustration, pulling with all her might to free herself.
The lead patrolman opened the cockpit hatch upon hearing the commotion coming from the back of the van. He looked upon his former boss with a sense of satisfaction, having little sympathy for her predicament; at the same time, he didn’t want her to bleed out before they reached the camp.
‘Get her free!’ he boomed at the idle patrolman.
The patrolman wasn’t quick to hide his displeasure at having to put an end to his amusement. He raised himself gingerly from the van’s uncomfortable wooden bench and made his way over to her. He pulled hard on her arms from behind, releasing her from the steel’s painful grip; this was followed immediately by an ear-piercing squeal of pain. Blood
‘What are you staring at, woman?’ the patrolman opposite barked in frustration, seeing her looking his way. ‘Eyes down, or I’ll knock you out.’
Her eyes widened and she looked towards the van’s harsh metal flooring. Her colleagues followed suit as not to incur the patrolman’s wrath. That is how they would stay until the journey’s end.
‘Not a peep out of any of you, do you understand?’ was the patrolman’s final demand.
#
Labour camp four loomed in the distance, and Miriam could feel every bump in the road as they headed down an off-road dirt track. She dared to look up again and felt the effects of having her head down for such a long time; an agonising stiffness had attached itself to her neck. She couldn’t shake the achiness.
‘Eyes down, you insolent bitch.’ the patrolman spat. ‘I don’t want to have to make good on my threat.’
She winced as she painfully forced her head back down again.
‘Anyway, we haven’t got far to go now—you think you’re in pain now? You wait ‘til you see what they have in store for you here.’ The patrolman sniggered, pleased with himself for imparting that small amount of knowledge to the unfortunate people opposite him.
#
The three vans screeched to a halt one behind the other, narrowly missing the lead vehicle’s bumper. Miriam and her cohorts were thrown violently towards the front of the van. Trying to keep their balance and remaining seated at the same time was difficult, considering they didn’t have use of their hands. She shoulder-butted a steel railing at the front of the van, screaming out in pain as her shoulder crunched into it. The patrolman laughed at her discomfort and did nothing to alleviate it, just watching as she writhed in agony. The situation was made worse by her cohorts ramming into her and damaging her shoulder further, causing a loose piece of metal to cut through her maintenance overalls and into her flesh. Quickly, the other two prisoners relieved their weight from her. This did not help the pain, as she now had to pull her right shoulder out of the protruding piece of metal.
‘Please, help me.’ she screamed, struggling to release herself.
All the patrolman did was revel in her misery, laughing maniacally at her misfortune.
She grew visibly angry at her captor’s lack of compassion and began growling in frustration, pulling with all her might to free herself.
The lead patrolman opened the cockpit hatch upon hearing the commotion coming from the back of the van. He looked upon his former boss with a sense of satisfaction, having little sympathy for her predicament; at the same time, he didn’t want her to bleed out before they reached the camp.
‘Get her free!’ he boomed at the idle patrolman.
The patrolman wasn’t quick to hide his displeasure at having to put an end to his amusement. He raised himself gingerly from the van’s uncomfortable wooden bench and made his way over to her. He pulled hard on her arms from behind, releasing her from the steel’s painful grip; this was followed immediately by an ear-piercing squeal of pain. Blood
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