Chapter 6: Above the Marianne River

The second day of the building-bridge task has slightly become hard. Several Omegas have now been complaining of the heat. We're only given water every three hours. And for the eight hours we’ve worked, I think it’s only twice. Unfortunately, our dinner didn’t include water.

And our dinner, even though it’s roasted meat as to what Beta Jansen and his bunch of other shitheads said, it tastes dull and without seasoning. The meat is so cold that I swear my urine is warmer than this. It looks like it has been in their pots for a week and they didn’t even bother to heat it up or turn it into another meal like a stew or something.

But my complaining wouldn’t magically turn our dinner into a sizzling roasted lamb or beef. So, being used to the complexity of being an Omega, I shoved it down my stomach as quickly as I could. Besides, the more we linger and frown at our food, the more we’ll lose appetite and end up waking up sick the next day. 

When I finished eating my portion of roasted meat, I burped. My fellow Omegas sitting beside me stared. I just shrugged at them. 

“What?” I said to them, “It’s going to come out as shit from my butthole anyway so why bother?”

They just rolled their eyes. 

The rest of the four remaining working days of the week has been the same routine: we rise up at around six, their Omegas serve us breakfast, we work for eight hours with only two glasses quenching our thirst every three hours, and we have our rather simple dinner. 

Never mind the Betas roasting a pig enough for the six of them. We can definitely smell it even if they did it several feet from us. I guess that’s another kind of torture then. Well for me, the smell of the aromatic roasted pig helped me eat my cold stir-fried chicken in minutes. I swallowed a chicken, then inhaled the scent of their roasting pig, then swallowed another piece of chicken again. Those are my life hacks, my ways I did to survive as an Omega.

I frowned when their Omegas handed us water from a plastic cup. But one look at the cloudy, bits-of-soil thing in the liquid made me realize it’s from the rain last night again.

I drink it in one go anyway.

We managed to finish the bridge, perhaps also by our quantity, by the last day. It began to drizzle slightly, though the sun is still perched up high in the sky. We ignored the threat of rain pouring down at us in the middle of the afternoon and hastened instead.

By the time twilight stained the sky with its marvelous colors, we walked to the other side of the bridge. Per Beta Jansen’s command to check the sturdiness of the bridge we built. 

Well, if it doesn't go well, we’ll basically be picked up as drowned corpses in the unrelenting river below. Good thing we managed to cross and return in one piece. As I hoped, the bridge remained solid under our feet. Thank the Moon Goddess for that. 

Although I wouldn’t mind if Alpha Cain’s car will pass here and eventually find himself dropping in a cruel height and plunging into the Marianne River dramatically.

It would be a fucking great scene to watch, I suppose.

I was the last to return and walk back as we crossed the other side of the bridge. I studied the lands of what was once been my former home. Alpha Cain has indeed made use of the Iron Woods Pack’s arid temperature for he has turned it into a training ground for the surviving Warriors and other men in my pack. What was once a nature park where me and my sister occasionally wander is now a war camp for Alpha Cain’s legion. Only a few houses remained, most were tents erected. Surrounding the dense area in the middle which is obviously littered with sparring rings and weapons of all types.

I only managed to pull myself from the musing when a smooth small stone hit my head. I whirled and Beta Jansen was grinning. “Are you gonna stay there as long as you want? Perhaps you want us to strap you into one of those trees so you can watch them for all eternity, huh?”

I just shrugged and stuck out my tongue. 

A punch aimed for my left, but I dodged right away. Beta Jansen’s eyes widened but I only gave him a lazy smile.

And I’m glad that lazy smile my sister once taught me saved my face from another bruise.