“Right, you drowned rats, we have three teams this year who are all marking themselves out as the ones to beat. The luck of the draw has put a lot of the fittest cadets in Minotaur, Bigfoot, and Dragon. That’s just the way it is. The rest of you need to get better.”
In the column that read Dragon, Sarge wrote the number sixty-eight. The scratching of his chalk against the board was the only sound in the room. In Bigfoot, he wrote seventy-one, and finally in Minotaur, he wrote seventy-five.
Hugh made Spike jump by shouting the loudest, leaping up from his seat and punching the air. The attention of the room on him, Hugh cleared his throat, flushed red, and sat back down again.
Olga winked at him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Hugh.”
The boy turned even redder.
Hugh had already quieted the room, but Sarge let the silence swell before he finally said, “Now, as promised, we’re going to let the team with the most points this week have a lie-in tomorrow.”
Just the mention of lying in released some of Spike’s tension. For the first time since they’d been there, he stooped to Ranger’s level, looking over at the boy and grinning at him. This time, Ranger chose to keep his eyes on the board at the front. Although, the flush of his cheeks suggested he knew Spike watched him.
After clearing his throat, Sarge said, “Well done to this week’s winners, and enjoy your lie-in. The rest of you can get up an hour earlier to get more training in so you don’t lag any further behind team Bigfoot.”
“Bigfoot?” Like Hugh, Olga both stood up and silenced the room. “Don’t you mean Minotaur?”
“You think I don’t know what I mean?”
It took Olga a couple of seconds before she pointed at the blackboard. “We’re at the top. Team Minotaur.”
Sarge held up the index finger of his right hand, a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Ah, but that’s because I haven’t made any adjustments yet.”
Still on her feet, still the focus of the room’s attention, Olga tilted her head to one side. “Adjustments?”
“Just one. For putting himself in danger on the first day …”
Spike’s stomach sank and he felt the room shift from looking at Olga to looking at him again. Sweat lifted on his palms and the smell of the stew in front of him turned his stomach.
“… and showing he’s a first-class liability. I’m docking you ten points. You can all thank William for that.”
While Olga sat down, Spike mouthed sorry at his team, his cheeks burning as he looked at the table again. The sounds of celebration came from team Bigfoot, swirling in the pitched ceiling above them. He refused to look over as Ranger’s voice rang out above all of them. “William’s clearly a liability. I wouldn’t have him protect my boots, let alone an entire city.”
At least half the dining hall laughed.
Chapter 39
As Spike entered the arena again, he focused on keeping his frame loose against the tension trying to turn through him. Would the trainers expose them to the diseased for a second week? He shook his head. It didn’t matter if they did. His panic had been an anomaly. He’d dealt with it now. If he saw a diseased today, he’d cope. The last time he’d been caught unprepared. He’d felt tired and it had pushed him that little bit too far.
Another week had passed. Another week of training in the gym. Team Dragon, Minotaur, and Bigfoot were still all close at the top of the leaderboard. Bigfoot, after their rest the previous week, had come back to training re-energised and were still at the top because of it.
Spike filled his lungs and looked around. He’d be here in about six months’ time, showing the crowd and anyone else who wanted to see just what he could do. He’d show them how the diseased didn’t bother him. In a few weeks’ time, last season’s contenders would be battling it out. If only they were allowed to watch. It would give them a heads-up on what they’d be facing. Although maybe they were better off not knowing.
When Bleach clapped his hands, Spike jumped and looked at his team leader. They never knew who’d be taking the training, but of all the team leaders, he hadn’t expected his own.
“Stressful, isn’t it?” Bleach said, pacing up and down in front of the cadets. “Standing here, in this arena, not knowing what’s ahead. Now imagine fighting for the apprenticeship. You’ll be going through all the anxiety you feel now, but with an audience of over three hundred watching on.”
Although Spike cleared his throat and shifted his stance, neither action helped him slip away from his discomfort. But he’d be fine when he got there. He’d have had five months’ experience outside the walls, so nothing would faze him.
“You!”
Spike looked down the line to see Bleach had singled out Mercy De’ath from team Yeti. A girl with hair so blond it looked close to white, she had pale skin and brilliant green eyes. Hard to tell where her white tracksuit ended and she began. Long limbed, she looked elvish. She snapped her heels together and stared at Bleach, awaiting something more from him.
A thick rock of chalk in his grip, Bleach held it out to her and said, “Follow me.”
Mercy stepped forward and took the chalk.
Bleach pointed down at the flat stone ground. “I want you to walk behind me while drawing a line and only stop when I tell you to.”
After she’d dipped a sharp nod at him, Mercy squatted down with the chalk and pressed it against the ground.
No wonder Bleach didn’t want to do it. Spike’s back ached just from watching her follow him, duckwalking as she kept the chalk pressed against the ground and drew a straight line.
When they’d walked about one hundred feet, Bleach turned a right-angled left and got her following him away from the cadets.
About fifty feet later, Bleach turned another left, dragging Mercy back so the next line matched and ran parallel to the first. He then turned ninety degrees to the right, got Mercy to draw another straight line of about fifty feet before turning right again and running a third long line along the ground. It ran parallel to the other two.
By the time they’d gotten to the end of the third long line, Max said, “What the hell is he doing?”
The only reply came in the form of a hard glare from Gauze, team Phoenix’s leader.
They were now so far away Spike couldn’t hear what Bleach said to Mercy, but after a few seconds of talking to one another, he watched the girl in the white tracksuit run around and fill in the lines while Bleach walked back over to them.
By the time Bleach had reached them, Mercy had mapped out a square in chalk and drawn a cross through the middle of it, dividing it up into four smaller squares.
“The corners of the squares,” Bleach said, “make up nine points on this pitch. Three along the bottom, three across the middle, and three along the top. I’m going to divide you up into teams of four and five, grouping you with people of a similar athletic ability. You will then race against each other from one point to the next, sprinting as fast as you can. The team on the first point will sprint to the team on the second point, who will then sprint to the team on the third point. It sounds easy, but you’ll soon find it’s not. This exercise is about your powers of recovery. If I think you’re not putting in maximum effort, you’re out. If you can’t run anymore, you’re out. When one complete team drops, you take your cue to run when the team closest behind you gets to the end of their point. Any questions?”
Like all of the other cadets, Spike looked at those around him, flinching when he met Ranger’s stare. The boy smiled at him like he always did. The teams were yet to be picked, but he already knew they’d be in the same group.
“I’m looking forward to another day off tomorrow,” Ranger said.
Spike looked at the others. Max, Matilda, and Olga—none of them replied or even looked at Ranger.
When Spike shifted close to Matilda to try to say something, she stepped away from him. Before he could make another move, Bleach shouted, “Go!”
They took off, sprinting from
the first to the second point. The moment they reached point number two, Hugh and his team sprinted for point three.
A quickened pulse from the first run, Spike linked his fingers behind his head and tried to make eye contact with Matilda.
Ranger stepped between them. “When do you think the diseased will come?”
The comment sent a surge through Spike, which he did his best to hide. He scanned the arena for signs of diseased. Surely Bleach had a twist planned for this game.
As if he could read his mind, Ranger nudged Spike and said, “I think you might be okay at this one. Your team leader’s probably done you a favour.”
Katie Rich, Fran Jacobs, Tom French, and Amy Furore came thundering up behind Spike and the others, triggering them to sprint to point three.
Bleach cupped his mouth with his hands and shouted, “Remember to give it all you’ve got.”
His chest slightly tighter than before, Spike watched Hugh give up, his shoulders slumped as he skulked away from his team.
“A dropout already?” Bleach said. “You disappoint me, Hugh.”
Matilda, Olga, Max, and Spike didn’t speak, all of them breathing more heavily than when they’d started. And why did they need to talk when Ranger did enough for all of them? “That boy’s dead weight. He’s going to get your team killed when you go outside the walls.”
The team behind caught up again in a galloping rush, so Spike and the others burst to life. Only three sprints, but he already felt how the short recovery time would chip away at them.
Two more of Hugh’s group gave up. Flight Stingray and Jenny Crumb.
Nice to see one of Ranger’s team pull up. Spike watched him wince as he heckled his teammate. “Jenny! Come on, you can do better than that.” But she ignored him. Something she’d probably got quite good at doing over the past few weeks.
By the time it came back around to them, four more cadets had dropped. Spike sprinted again, pulling deeper breaths than before to find the speed he needed to keep going.
When they stopped this time, Max bent over and put his hands on his knees. Spike tapped his teammate on the shoulder and said, “You’ll recover better like this.” He linked his fingers and held them behind his head. After several breaths, sweat running into his eyes, he said, “It opens up the lungs more.”
Red-faced and glistening, Max nodded his thanks at Spike and did as he’d just shown him.
Eight more had pulled out by the time the team behind them caught up again.
At the next point, Spike noticed Ranger glance his way before he shifted closer to Matilda. “How are you doing, Tilly? If you get a bit stiff after this and want a massage or something …?”
The offer of a massage didn’t bother Spike. It seemed like the kind of thing Ranger would say. But he’d called her Tilly. No one else called her that.
Matilda looked from Ranger to Spike and then turned her back on both of them as if they were each as bad as the other.
The thunder of footsteps behind, Spike took off again. The team on the point before them were now down to two because Katie Rich and Amy Furore had both pulled off to the side. The entire field had halved since he’d last checked. When Spike saw Heidi Sparx from his team vomit clear liquid at the side of the pitch, he focused on his breathing again to try to settle the knot in his own stomach.
Because two entire teams were out, it had shortened their recovery time. Surrounded by the heavy panting of his team, Spike fought his own battle to hold on. There were only nine runners left. Five of them still in his group.
Spike found it impossible to avoid Ranger, who moved closer to him and nudged him hard enough to send him stumbling to one side. “With no diseased, you might stand a chance of winning this one. I mean, it’s not like facing those freaks is something we need to get competent at.”
They sprinted again. For all Ranger’s bravado, Spike saw how hard he now breathed. They were all tiring.
Just three teams left, Spike watched the team closest to them—now four places back—finish their sprint, and he ran again, his legs heavy, his mouth stretched wide as he tried to fill his tight lungs.
“Who needs to deal with the diseased in this world anyway?” Ranger tried again.
It took a great effort to speak, but Spike did it anyway. “Why don’t you do one, Ranger?” They sprinted again.
The only team left, all five of them still together, Bleach shouted over to them, “Go on my word.”
Even worse because they couldn’t see their turn coming around to them, Spike watched Bleach.
“Go!”
Spike saw his own fatigue in those around him, all of them slowing down as they got close to the line.
“I can see you giving up, Spike,” Ranger said. “You look screwed.”
“Go!”
They took off again. Despite the advice he’d given Max, when they stopped, Spike bent over double, his mouth stretched wide as if it would help him breathe better.
Lance Cull started the chant from the sidelines. “Ranger, Ranger, Ranger.”
“Go!”
Spike sprinted again, doing his best to focus on the next point and nothing else. Unable to stop it, his stomach bucked and he vomited, the crowd cheering him while he threw up his breakfast.
“Go!”
But Spike wouldn’t back down. He ran again, spitting some of the bitter-tasting phlegm from his mouth.
“Go!”
All five of them ran. They were so exhausted, not even Ranger had a smart comment.
“Go!”
When they got to the next point, there were only four of them left. Despite the pain in his stomach, his head spinning with his difficulty breathing, Spike looked at Matilda, Max, and Olga and smiled.
“Go!”
But Spike didn’t. Instead, he let himself fall onto his back and stared up at the sky, closing his eyes as he recovered, listening to Bleach shouting, “Go!” at the others. At least he’d beaten Ranger.
“Go!”
Chapter 40
“Well, I for one want to say well done to Max.” Spike looked across the flickering fire at his teammate and dipped a nod at him. “Thanks for the lie-in tomorrow, and well done on smashing Bleach’s twisted fitness test.”
Bleach threw his head back with a booming laugh. “Sorry about that one.”
“I must say though, Spike,” Max said, “you deserve some kind of medal for throwing up and still running to the next point.”
Although Spike smiled, he couldn’t rid himself of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sure, he’d proven he could keep up with the best of them. Some days Max or Matilda won; some days he, Olga, or Ranger. But he still hadn’t dealt with facing the diseased. And worst of all, Ranger saw straight through him.
When Spike refocused, he saw the others were all looking at him, waiting for some kind of response. He stared off into the darkness behind them, so pitch anything could be waiting there. They were having a small fire off to one side, the rest of the cadets in their dorms because they’d be getting up early in the morning. They were close to the hole, not that he could see the fence sectioning it off from the rest of the national service area. The glow from the fire robbed him of his night vision. “What is the hole, Bleach?”
It turned the group’s attention to their team leader, who paused for a second before shaking his head. “You don’t want to know, and you should pray you never get a chance to find out.” He quickly followed up with, “How did you get so fit, Max? I’ve never seen anyone get that far before.”
“I’m from the construction district,” Max said.
Olga this time: “You know that doesn’t explain anything, right?”
A shake of his head, he said, “Oh, sorry. No, I don’t suppose it does. Well, my parents are in charge of one of the kilns and they need someone to deliver their bricks. Every morning, I’d fill a barrow with bricks and run the deliveries for them. I didn’t have to do it, but I wanted to work on my fitness because I knew I’d be c
oming here, and being fit is what’s going to keep me alive.”
Spike noticed something shift next to him. He snapped his head around to see Hugh squirming. Max’s statement clearly made him uncomfortable.
Max then added, “I got a bit of insight about what national service is like because I have four older brothers.”
“Four?” Olga said. “And all of them made it through national service?”
Max nodded. “Yeah. Every one of them.” He laughed. “I suppose the law of averages says I’m screwed now, right?”
For a few seconds, the sound of the wind ran across the open field. Spike pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them to himself. He imagined what could be in the shadows around them. He saw the pallid and wrinkled faces of the diseased. The snarling and snapping mouths. The yellow teeth.
Heidi finally broke the silence, pulling Spike away from his imaginings. “I had a brother. He was called Rufus and was four years older than me.” A glaze covered her eyes, the flames reflected in her distant stare. “He didn’t make it.”
“I remember him.” Bleach’s deep voice cut through the night. “When their team were jumped by the diseased, they all ran, but Rufus tripped and fell. It was enough for the diseased to set upon him.”
The constantly shifting light animated the shadows around them, flashing movement through Spike’s peripheral vision.
In the entire time they’d been there, Spike hadn’t spoken to Elizabeth much. She tended to watch the group, never offering her thoughts or opinions. When she spoke, her small voice was barely audible over the wind and popping fire. “I have a younger brother and sister. I’m the first in our family. Mum and Dad wouldn’t tell me anything about what I’d be facing. They said they wanted to save me the nightmares. It didn’t work.”
Protectors - Book one of Beyond These Walls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Page 18
