Day of Reckoning (Dawn of Rebellion Series Book 2)

by Michelle Lynn

  “You ready?” I overhear Jeremy ask her. Shouldn’t he be asking me that?

  “I think so,” she says, sounding unsure.

  “We’re all going to pass, don’t worry,” Drew says, seemingly unaware of the tension around the table. He is distracted when a group of girls waves to him from across the room. He waves back in that friendly way that he has. He probably doesn’t even know what that smile and charm does to girls. It hasn’t been that long since I experienced it myself. He can turn perfectly nice girls into complete slags.

  “I’m knackered,” Dawn says with a fake yawn. “I’m going to get some sleep.” She walks off without another word.

  “Yeah right,” I say under my breath once she’s gone.

  “Cool it Gabby,” Jeremy snaps. I glare at him and shut my mouth.

  “I should go talk to her,” Drew says reluctantly. “She’s probably going nuts thinking about the test tomorrow.” He follows her out. As soon as he is gone, I turn on Jeremy.

  “Why do you insist on defending her?” I demand.

  “Because, she’s right,” he responds.

  “How can you think that?” I ask. “These people might not be the British slavers but they are similar enough. They imprison people and torture them. They believe that they are right in everything they do. I thought you of all people would feel the same way I do.”

  “Having horrible things done to me does not give me the right to do horrible things to other people,” he says lowly.

  “Claire,” I whisper.

  “What?” he demands.

  “What about Claire?” I ask loudly. “What about what was done to her. She didn’t have to die.”

  “Don’t you dare use her to justify this,” he says harshly. “She was my sweet sister who would never be okay with any of this. Your memory of her has been corrupted by your own need for revenge. In Floridaland, she saw something good in you. I did too.” He looks into my eyes. “I don’t think I see it anymore. All I see is anger and hate.”

  Chapter 44: Dawn

  I wake to Drew sitting on the end of my bed and instantly think of those beautiful girls that flirt with him everywhere he goes. Why does he want me? Scratch that. I don't know if he even wants me anymore.

  “Time to wake up,” he says excitedly. I wish I could feel his excitement. Today I become something that I never wanted to be, that is, if I pass. If I make it through, I will be a soldier. If there was any other option, I would take it. Jeremy and I decided that we both need to be there. We can only be at one of the three cities but we will save as many people as we can. I don't know how much of a difference I can really make but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. I stretch my arms towards Drew and he pulls me up.

  “You ready for today?” I ask.

  “You bet,” he responds. “You?”

  “I think so,” I say.

  “You’ll do great,” he says.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, not really believing him. He hands me some kind of fruit bread.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to be around all those people in the cafeteria today,” he explains. My answering smile tells him that he was right. How does this boy know me so well in so short a time? He’s always able to calm my nerves and insecurities.

  I get out of bed and head for the showers. I let the cold water run down my back for as long as I can before I step out and get dressed. I twist my scraggly, too long hair into a messy bun. Drew walks up behind me. He doesn’t touch me but I can feel his closeness. I turn towards him and without even thinking, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. Our relationship is still strained, but in the absence of romance, we have become friends. He still keeps me at arm’s length, though, and that hurts because I still love him.

  He hesitates before hugging me back. He rests his chin on my shoulder. I pull back reluctantly because I know it’s time. My test is scheduled for the morning. Drew and Gabby are both in the afternoon. We won’t find out the results until later tonight, after the psych evaluation is analyzed. I give Drew a small smile.

  “Good luck,” he says.

  “You too,” I respond as I walk out the door. I join the group of potential soldiers making their way to the waiting room. We are the lucky ones that were scheduled for the morning trials. I don’t think I could handle waiting around all day. My nerves would eat me up.

  The waiting room is small and cramped. The rebels have never had this many people set to become soldiers before. Most of them are Americans who have found their way here, I know that much. I have met a few of them in the training rooms but the rest are strangers to me. I’m not comfortable around strangers.

  By the time I cram into the room, all the chairs are taken so I sit on the ground. I pick at the carpet to busy my shaking hands and keep my eyes focused on the ground.

  Back in London, my lessons came easy to me but exams were still terrifying. I would be so nervous that sometimes I would feel manky. Compared to this, those tests were cake. I seriously consider giving up my bid to become a soldier. It’s not like I actually want to be one. Every time I think about it though, I know that it would be wrong. I’m not doing this for myself.

  “Welcome to the soldier trials,” a voice brings me back to the present. I look to the front of the room and Jonathan Clarke is addressing the group. “A panel of officers will be assessing each section of the test,” he continues. “Target shooting is first, then the combat section, and last is the psych evaluation. Our forces are highly trained and we only want those who fit into that mold. Good luck and I hope to see each and every one of you in uniform when we march on Texas.” A woman walks into the room and hands Jonathan a clipboard. He looks down and reads the first name. “Sarah Thurman,” he calls. A blonde girl about my size stands and follows him out.

  I wait as a few others are called. Some are young but some are surprisingly older. Everyone is chomping at the bit to become a part of this revolution; everyone except me. The room is dead silent when I finally hear my name. “Dawn Nolan,” a woman calls. I stand and slowly walk towards the open door. My brain is screaming at me to go back; to forget about all of this. My legs keep moving forward. The woman leads me down the hall and into the shooting range. Four officers with headphones on stand along the wall. The one with the clipboard will be taking note of everything I do. I am handed a rifle and ear coverings. After assembling the rifle, I am directed to face the target. It is only the outline of a person but it still gets to me. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply. I exhale as I open my eyes and square my feet to the target.

  I hear Jeremy’s voice in the back of my mind telling me what to do. I forget about the officers standing behind me. It’s just me and the target. I raise the rifle and press the butt to my chest. I still have a slight bruise from all of my time spent practicing. I position the gun as Jeremy taught me and line it up with the heart on my target. I breathe in and exhale as I squeeze the trigger. The gun digs into my chest as the bullet pierces my targets arm. I do it again and a hole appears in the face area. My third and fourth bullets hit the stomach area. It’s on my fifth try that I finally pierce the heart. Relief floods through me as I realize that my last bullet just needs to hit somewhere on the body. I once again press my cheek to the gun and take aim. As if in slow motion, the bullet flies through the air until it hits the foot. I just narrowly made it. I don’t smile as I walk towards the judging officers and hand them the gun. They barely look at me as I leave the room. Shite, that was close.

  My feet feel lighter as I am lead down the hall. “You have to wait here,” I am told. “They will come for you when they are ready.” And then I am alone. This part of the compound has been blocked off for the tests so there are no squaddies rushing by as I lean against the wall. The silence is deafening until, finally, after what feels like an eternity, a man in a soldier’s uniform comes to me. I don’t think he’s an officer because I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting them. He is tall and lean but muscular at the same time. His black hair is shining with swea
t and his every movement is precise.

  “Are you ready?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I respond. We head into training room A and it has been transformed. The obstacle course that usually occupies the back wall is gone, as is the strength training equipment. The center of the floor has been covered in bright blue mats. Nearby, a table has been set up for a group of officers to sit at. I don’t look at them as I walk by but I feel their eyes on me. We stop when we reach the mats and the man turns to me.

  “This is a hand to hand combat test. You will be fighting me.” I gulp air as I look him up and down. He is twice my size. I am so buggered. I’m not even good at fighting someone who is my size. He steps into the center of the mat. I stand across from him. He raises his arms into a fighting position and I follow suit. “You ready?” he asks. I swallow hard and nod. We begin moving in a circle, neither wanting to make the first move. He tries a punch combination that stings as I block it with my arms. I try a kick to the side but he grabs my foot and I tumble to the ground. I roll and pop back up, only to be punched in the gut. I double over in pain and then force myself back into a fighting position.

  I punch right. When he blocks the jab, I connect my left fist to his jaw. He doesn’t even flinch. I take a knee to the ribs and the pain spreads throughout my body. I double over. I can’t give up now. I throw jabs towards his face and his stomach as we circle each other. None of it seems to do any damage. I try to spin and kick but he knocks me to the ground with a quick elbow to the head. Stars float in front of my eyes as I stumble to my feet. He hits me to the ground again and it is all I can do to stay conscious. I push myself from my knees to my feet and throw my body into his. I jam my shoulder into his stomach but he barely moves. He pushes me away from him and then sweeps his leg behind mine. I tumble backwards and he kicks me on the way down. I try to stand again but my head is spinning and I can’t get my legs under me. I try to trip him but he doesn’t even stumble. Instead, I see his fist coming towards me and then a spark of pain as I fall sideways. The last thing I remember is my head hitting the mat.

  Chapter 45: Dawn

  I come to after a few minutes. I feel the mat beneath me before I open my eyes and know that I am still in the training room. The pain is intense and when I raise my eyelids, the first thing I see is the cause of that pain. The large man that I fought, if you can call it a fight, is leaning over me.

  “You alright?” he asks.

  “No,” I state. There’s no use in denying it. I am definitely not alright.

  “Well, you did great!” he grins. I let out a groan and the smile fades from his face. “Let me help you up.” He reaches down and pulls me to my feet. My whole body screams at me to lay back down but I know I can’t. I shoot a hand out to steady myself as a wave of dizziness comes over me. The big man grabs me before I fall.

  “Thanks,” I say. I look at the officers' table and they are whispering to one another and sneaking glances at me. I must have just ruined my chances of becoming a soldier. That's just brilliant.

  “Soldier Dillon,” one of the officers says. That must be this man’s name.

  “Yes sir?” he responds crisply.

  “Escort Miss Nolan to psyche while we discuss her scores,” the officer orders. The soldier salutes and then takes my arm to lead me from the room. I wince at his touch but there is no way I can walk on my own right now. He steadies me as I move slowly down the hall.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he tells me. “I made sure I didn’t break anything. You’ll probably just have a lot of bruising.”

  “You think?” I say sarcastically.

  “I’m Lucas, by the way, and I wasn’t lying when I said you did great,” he says. “Your scores should be pretty high.”

  “How is that possible?” I ask. “You kicked my arse.”

  “Do you really think they expected you to do well against me?” I stop walking and look up at him.

  “What do you mean?” I demand, leaning against the wall for support.

  “They weren’t judging you on how well you can fight a man twice your size,” he begins, “they were evaluating how hard you tried to fight a man twice your size. I guess you could say they wanted to see how resilient you were.”

  “So they wanted me to get pummeled?” Every time I find out something new about these rebels I like them even less. Why can’t anyone else see how ridiculous all of this is?

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he hesitates. I start moving down the hall again, not really sure where I’m going. I keep one hand on the wall to keep from falling. Lucas doesn’t touch me again as he leads the way. He can probably sense my irritation and knows it’s best not to make me angrier. The longer I am on my feet, the blurrier my vision gets. The hall feels like it is closing in on me. Every part looks exactly the same as the last, making this walk seem endless as it stretches out before us.

  We stop outside of a door marked Psychology. “This is where I leave you,” Lucas says. “Good luck.” He is gone before I even knock. A thin woman with a high blonde ponytail opens the door. She is beautiful, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before saying,

  “Miss Nolan, welcome. I am Doctor Eberly. You can call me Amelia.” She steps out of the way and waves me in. “Have a seat and we can begin.” She sits across from me and folds her hands on her desk. “This is the final part or your trials but it is also the most difficult and most important. Shooting a gun and fighting are good skills for a soldier to have but they can be taught. The mentality of a soldier cannot. Loyalty, courage, and the willingness to follow orders no questions asked are much more difficult to teach. Some are born with these traits, others develop them over time.”

  “How can you determine that I have what it takes?” I ask, suddenly very nervous. I already know that I am not soldier material and I’ve never been very good at lying. I am loyal, but not to the rebels. I was brave enough to save my sister but I am not stupidly brave, which I suspect they would like. I won’t face danger if no good can come of it. I am definitely not willing to follow their orders. Questioning things is in my nature.

  “I have some questions that I need you to answer,” she states.

  “Okay,” I say, trying to sound confident.

  “Why are you here?” she asks.

  “I had to save my sister,” I answer.

  “No,” she says, “not in the colonies. Why are you here with the rebels?”

  “I have no other choice,” I answer honestly. “At least, if I want to stay alive.” She looks surprised at my admission for a moment and then looks at her notebook and jots down some notes.

  “I see,” she says. “I see here that you spent some time in Texas and even came face to face with their Prophet and mayor. What is your opinion of her?”

  “She's a proper nutter,” I don't even hesitate.

  “Would it surprise you that Texas is gearing up for more expansion?”

  “Nothing would surprise me about those people. Can I ask what these questions have to do with being a soldier?”

  “In order for you to answer the important questions, you need to have all the facts.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Cults are dangerous Miss Nolan.” I nod and she continues, “There are many people in Texas who follow Tia Cole blindly. They will do whatever she tells them. The battle to come will be less about our cause and more about our survival. That is something that everyone needs to understand. If we cannot beat them back, the Texans will come for us in full force and they will win. Even those who do not believe in the rebels' ultimate goal of beating our oppressors in England and Floridaland must fight for our very existence in the colonies.” She looks at me as if she knows my true feelings about the upcoming fight. Everything she says makes sense but I still have to believe there is a different way to protect ourselves than to kill hundreds of people. Why should we survive at the expense of someone else?

  “Why are you explaining all of this
to me?” I ask. I doubt she tells this to every recruit.

  “I just...” she pauses, thinking, “It was the request of someone in command who doesn't want anything to happen to you.”

  Someone in command? “Miranda?” I ask, suddenly understanding.

  “Your interview is over,” Amelia cuts me off abruptly and stands to open the door. I am confused because she didn't really interview me. I take her cue and leave without another word.

  Why do we have to go to war? Isn't there plenty enough land to coexist with these people. Will those in power ever stop yearning for more? I saw it in England, in Texas, and now here. Power is like an addictive drug. Once you taste it, the cravings overcome everything else, leaving death and destruction in its wake.

  As I hobble down the hall I use the wall once again to steady myself.

  I am almost to my dorm when I run into Drew. I hadn’t seen him because I was too focused on not falling.

  “Oh my God,” he says. “Dawn, are you okay.” Unable to stand any longer, my knees buckle and I start to fall. Drew catches me under the arms. “Let’s get you to medical.”

  “No,” I say, not in the mood for any more doctors after that shrink. “I just need to lay down.”

  “Okay.” He lifts me easily and carries me into the room. I hear Gabby gasp as Drew lowers me to the bed but she doesn’t come closer. My head spins as I sink further and further away from Gabby and Drew until finally I welcome the sleep.

  Chapter 46: Gabby

  It takes all of my strength to knock on the door. This is the final step to becoming the soldier I always wanted to be. I aced the shooting trials of course. I was brilliant. The hand to hand was brutal but Lucas told me that I was one of the only people who didn’t pass out. Now is the Psych test. I am confident it will go well because I know I have what it takes. A woman opens the door and ushers me in. She cuts straight to the chase.

  “I am told that you shot someone on your way here. An unarmed Texan farmer,” she says. “When you think about that now, what do you feel?”