“Hey, Joseph,” Jake greeted. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling alright,” Joseph answered. “I’m not sick or anything, and these nurses are really nice.”
“Well it’s not a hotel resort, but we do the best we can.”
“I never did find out,” Brandon started. “How did you get that scratch, if it wasn’t from a zombie?”
“I had to unhinge a fifteen foot fence in our way,” Joseph answered. “To get to the stadium. I had to move quick because there was a horde right on top of us. I scratched myself on the top of the fence, but I pressed on and removed the hinges on both sides of the fence.”
“Seems like you were pretty quick on your feet.”
“I do a lot of parkour.”
“Wait a sec,” Jake interrupted. “Parkour?”
“Well yeah,” Joseph chuckled. “Have to get away from those things somehow, It could be a wall I need to run up, or a beam I need to run across.”
“Or in your case, a fence to leap over?”
“Yes! Exactly!”
One of the nurses walked over to Joseph and the group holding a blood pressure cuff.
“I need to see your arm for a moment,” the nurse requested.
Joseph raised his arm up, and the nurse wrapped the cuff around his left arm. As she applied pressure to the cuff, she placed a stethoscope on the main artery in his arm, slipping the microphone under the cuff.
“Let me ask you,” Jake continued. “When Z-Day started, where were you guys at?”
“We were in Lake City, Florida,” Eddie answered. “Joseph was about to sign his papers over to join the Marine Corps.”
“Hell yeah!” Brandon exclaimed. “Best way to go.”
“Shoulda gone for Navy,” Jake joked. “Those guys are smarter.”
Brandon was behind Jake, nodding his head in disagreement.
“Marines!” Brandon coughed in exaggeration.
“He’s only saying that because he was a sniper in the Marines.”
“Oh ok,” Joseph laughed.
“Well we’re Z-Corps now,” Brandon responded. “Don’t really matter about our past military branches anymore.”
“Well does the Z-Corps need some extra people?” Joseph asked. “I was going in the military anyways.”
“Well first you gotta heal up,” Jake advised. “Everyone that is signing up is meeting in the center of the settlement at 0500 two days from now. They will undergo the basic training.”
“What about that squad that rescued me and my parents?”
“That’s an elite group called a Hostile Rescue Team,” Brandon answered. “Very few are a part of it. You actually have to be asked to enlist, and then you gotta undergo their training if you choose to do so.”
“Okay,” Joseph responded. “How do I get asked?”
“Show me what you got,” Brandon answered. “If you have the skills needed, then you will be taken into consideration.”
“I wouldn’t get too worked up at the moment though,” Jake said. “Like I said, heal up. Spend some time with your family. If you are interested, don’t get too comfortable with civilian life. Bus leaves at 0500 on the dot.”
After shaking Joseph’s hand, Jake left the tent, with Brandon following him.
“What do you think?” Brandon asked.
“Well he did get his family out of Tallahassee,” Jake answered. “But we won’t know for sure until we see what he’s made of with our own eyes.”
Two days have came to pass since meeting Joseph. The sun hasn’t even shown over the distance yet, save for a tiny spec of light. Jake was standing next to a white van big enough to carry fifteen people in it. With him was another soldier sitting in the driver’s seat. Jake looked at his watch: 04:53.
Nine young adults, men and women, black, white, and Hispanic, trotted towards the spot where Jake stood. Behind the nine recruits was Joseph Boyer, who didn’t appear injured in any way. He was completely healed, save for the scar that remained, and ready to undergo any challenge that would be taken.
All of the recruits gathered around Jake, still and silent like stone statues during a steady night.
“So this is everyone?” Jake asked.
Everyone stood without uttering a word.
“Alright,” Jake continued. “Everybody hustle up in a single file line next to the van! Start at the back and go from left to right! Keep working your way up until everyone is in!”
The recruits followed Jake’s orders, lining up single file, then entering in the van, one by one. Jake sat in the front passenger seat of the van as the driver turned the key in the ignition switch. He then checked his watch one more time: 05:00
Jake then motioned the driver to start moving. As the van pulled away from the settlement, the recruits in the back sat silently in their seats, keeping their eyes forward. Every once in a while, some of them would look to the windows and see some of the open field and a couple of buildings they would pass.
The van arrived at the Z-Corps north west outpost next to the settlement border. The driver stopped at a long tent in front of what appeared to be a makeshift obstacle course and a target range. Brandon was standing beside the spot where the van parked. Beside him was Austin Warren, a well built soldier, wearing his uniform and a drill instructor’s cap.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Austin ordered. “Everyone out of the van! Hustle up! Form a line! Move it! Move it!”
All of the ten recruits hurried out of the van and formed a line in front of Brandon and Austin. Jake stepped out of the front passenger’s side of the van and met up with Brandon’s side as the driver pulled away from the sight.
“So these are the recruits we spoke of,” Jake whispered.
“Yep,” Brandon responded. “So unpredictable. Looks can deceive and the least could be the greatest. Expecting the unexpected in this bunch.”
Brandon then turned his head to Austin.
“Have fun,” Brandon uttered.
“With pleasure,” Austin grinned.
Austin then stepped forward and strolled parallel to the line consisting of the ten recruits.
“New recruits,” Austin began. “I am Lieutenant Warren, and I am your Z-Corps basic training drill instructor. For the next three weeks, I own you! You will address me as Lieutenant. The man on my left is Chief of Z-Corps Peterson. You will address him as ‘Chief.’ When I ask you a question, you will answer ‘Yes,’ or ‘No,’ unless he or I ask for anything beyond a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’. Do you understand what I have told you so far?”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” the recruits answered in unison.
“By the time I am through with you,” Austin continued. “You will be an elite force to not be trifled with. You will be merged with the soldier on your left and the soldier on your right as one whole. But until that day comes that you are sworn in, all ten of you are in Hell, and I am the devil that runs it!”
“Alright,” Brandon started. “All ten of you line up next to the table behind you. You will be given the only garments that you will need. Get settled in and get used to waking up early. You start tomorrow morning at 0500.”
All of the recruits filed up in a single line next to the table behind them, where they were given a full uniform of their size, undergarments and running shoes, a metal canteen, and a set of numbered dog tags, where each recruit had their own number.
They were given a full day of orientation, passing the obstacle course where they would speed through, a small, two story house, where the recruits would practice breaching and clearing, and the target range, where they would train in short ranged and long ranged firearms. They had also passed by a dirt ring, where the recruits would hone their close quarters and mixed martial arts, and a testing dummy, where the recruits would practice their skills with a knife.
Once orientation day was over, all ten recruits entered an elongated tent, where every one of them would bunk in for the duration of their basic training. As they all silently climbed in their bunks
, which consisted of a simple pillow and a wool blanket on a spring bed, They shut their eyes and tried their damnedest to get some rest, for they would soon have three weeks to master what should take ten to learn.
Chapter 5
Clang! Clang! Clang!
“On your feet!” Austin shouted. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Up and at ‘em!”
Austin strolled between the two rows of bunks, frantically banging a pot with a metal pipe, as the ten recruits rushed out from their beds, standing at attention in front of the bed frames. Austin continued banging and shouting until everyone stood parallel to the path he walked along.
“Now that everyone is up,” Austin continued. “Let’s make sure everyone is awake. I want ten push-ups.”
The recruits prepared themselves, leveling themselves on the dirt below them, and began their morning exercise.
“One, two, three, ‘One,’ one, two, three, ‘Two....’”
The recruits followed their drill instructor in unison, counting out their push-ups until finished with all ten. Once finished, everyone stood back up in attention. Those that weren’t standing in the proper posture were quickly corrected by Austin, Brandon, and Jake, who stayed at the outpost to observe.
“Now that everyone is well rested, listen up,” Brandon began. “For the first two weeks, you are going to cover Z-Corps ranking, teamwork and communication, hand combat, firearm training, knife fighting, basic survival, emergency situations, and standard breaching protocol. Every day, you will do your basic exercises, keep your station clean, stay in top health, and ground the obstacle course. You will be disciplined both physically and mentally, and then week three will be the graduating week. You will be tested on everything learned, then undergo a final test. If you pass that, you will be sworn in as a warrior in the Z-Corps. Any questions?”
“Permission to speak, Chief?” Joseph Boyer asked.
“Go ahead.”
“Why the numbers on our tags instead of our names?”
Brandon then turned his attention to the drill instructor.
“Lieutenant?” Brandon asked. “Care to explain?”
Austin trotted to where Joseph stood at attention and got up in his face.
“Because you are no longer ‘Joseph Boyer!’” Austin exclaimed, turning his head and walking back and forth for all to hear. “Every single one of you no longer have a name. That person that stepped on the bus to be a part of this Corps is dead! That bus was Momma’s womb, and once you stepped out of that bus, you slid out of Momma’s womb and were born a different human being!”
Austin then got back in Joseph’s face.
“And we name our boys and girls with a number while they are here,” he whispered. “If you want that name of yours, you will get it by two ways.”
Austin began to raise his voice again.
“You either get sworn in, or you quit!” he shouted. “So you are no longer ‘Joseph Boyer!’ You were given a new identity, and that new identity is ‘Number Seven,’ since that is the number on your tag! Do I make myself perfectly clear, Number Seven?!”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” Joseph answered.
“Do I make myself perfectly clear for everyone else?!”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” all of the recruits replied in unison.
“Now get cleaned up and ready for the morning exercises,” Austin ordered. “Once done, you will chow down on some morning grub, then we will begin the training.”
After the recruits suited up in their running clothes, they ran three miles around the entire outpost, the recruits hurried to the center of the outpost, where they were taught the Z-Corps Creed, the ranks of their superiors, and the conduct of which to live by as a soldier. They were taught how to stand, how to turn, how to walk, and how to salute their superiors. They continued this until lunch.
At the obstacle course, the recruits would crawl in muddy water under barbed wire, vault over logs and stumps, climb ropes and ladders, run up walls, and swing from platform to platform, along with other obstacle courses. Jake stood by, observing Joseph as he glided through the obstacle course like a squirrel running away from a hawk.
“Well he wasn’t lying about knowing parkour,” Jake said to Brandon.
“True,” Brandon agreed. “But he still has a ways to go. It’s one thing to be quick on your feet. It’s another thing to be dependable for your team. You and I both learned that when we were in the Marines and the Navy.”
“That is also true. I think we should tell him that.”
Austin nodded his head and stepped next to the obstacle course.
“Number Seven,” he called out. “Fall in!”
Joseph stopped what he was doing and stood at attention in front of Austin.
“Something tells me you like running,” Austin assumed.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Joseph confirmed.
“I could tell because you were literally flying through my obstacle course.”
“Thank you, Lieu-”
“Do not thank me yet!” Austin shouted. “In all that running, you forgot the main principle of this Corps, and that principle is to never leave your fellow man behind! But we’re gonna change that before this week is over! So you’re gonna do planks until every one else meets up and you’re gonna finish with them! Once that is done, they are going to do planks while you run the obstacle course again, because I’m gonna make sure everyone knows to never leave a man behind! Do you get me!”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” Joseph responded.
With that, Joseph laid on the ground and held himself up with his forearms until the other nine met up with him. He then stood up and ran with everyone else, staying in the back of the pack so as to not leave anyone behind. Then, as ordered by Austin, The other nine recruits began holding themselves up in the plank position while Joseph ran the entire half mile obstacle course again.
The recruits were off to a rough start, with running again, eating their meals quick, returning back to the tent for more conduct training, more running and then bedding down. The second day was the same up to after lunch, where the recruits then performed some teamwork exercises, such as moving a five hundred pound log a mile on the jogging track, and then carrying ammo, medical kits, and two of the recruits an extra mile.
On day three of training, the recruits worked trained around teamwork again. During the obstacle course, Joseph fully applied what was taught over the first two days. He kept up his pace with the rest of the recruits and helped those that were slacking behind.
“Number Seven!” Austin shouted. “Fall in!”
Joseph stood in attention in front of his drill instructor.
“What happened to the fast running I saw?! You should be speeding through this obstacle course! Save the slow pace for the morning and evening run!”
“Lieutenant, with all due respect,” Joseph replied. “I know I am supposed to be speeding through this course, but I never leave a fellow man behind!”
“Are you telling me that you are willingly going against my orders that I have given you, which was to speed through this obstacle course?!”
Joseph stood silently, save for the lump in his throat he attempted to swallow.
“Answer me, Number Seven!” Austin ordered.
“Yes, Lieutenant!” Joseph complied. “I am willingly going against your orders!”
Jake and Brandon stood on the side, witnessing the entire commotion, smirking.
“Everyone fall in!” Austin ordered.
Every one of the recruits formed a line in front of their drill instructor.
“Seems like we have one of you that wants to commit anarchy within harmony!” Austin shouted. “Number Seven is that anarchist that chose to go against my orders.”
Austin then turned his head to Joseph.
“However,” Austin continued. “He went against my orders in order to follow our Z-Corps’s top principle, which is to never leave a fellow man behind. For that, Number Seven is now your squad leader.”
Joseph slight
ly tilted his lips, revealing a small smile.
“With that being said,” Austin added. “Because he went against my orders and disrupted my sense of harmony, he is going to do ten military push ups! And since he is your squad leader, you must do ten military push ups with him, for you are a team!”
Everyone laid on the ground, staring at Joseph from the corner of their eyes, and began their push ups. As soon as they were all done, they ran back on the obstacle course and continued where they left off. This time, Joseph stayed in the middle of the crowd, rather than speed away from the group or fall far behind them.
As the days passed, the recruits began working as a team, even though they did not have a good outlook on Joseph much. Every time Joseph would make a mistake, the entire team would have to endure the same punishment that he was given. Some of the recruits would try and best him in the obstacle course, so as to take his spot as a squad leader. However, they would soon be punished with haste for leaving everyone else behind.
A day later, during lunch, one of the recruits walked over to Joseph, who was alone at the far end of the table, and sat across from him. He was a lean, clean shaven Hispanic guy, who looked to be around nineteen. The number on his dog tag had the number three on it.
“Yo, Number Seven,” Three started. “Seems like you got a lot of hate coming from the other noobs.”
“No kidding,” Joseph replied. “Being Squad Leader sucks.”
“Why not just ask the Lieutenant if you can relinquish that title of yours?”
“Because that would be the same thing as quitting the program, and I don’t plan on quitting. Why? Do you want to be Squad Leader too like everyone else?”
“Oh no,” Three laughed. “Not me. Lieutenant’s been up my business since Day One. If I become Squad Leader, I think everyone is gonna beat me up at night with soap bars tied up in socks.”
Joseph chuckled at Number Three’s sense of humor.
Z-Day Chronicles (Book 2): Rising Up Page 3
