What in the hell?
“I swear he signed the form,” one male recruit yelled, struggling against the soldier pushing him down the hallway. His restrained arms thrashed back and forth. “This must be a mistake. I swear he did!”
“No!” Another male sobbed, pleading with the soldier behind him. Tears tracked down his flushed face; his shirt strained against his chest with his hands cuffed behind his back. “Please don’t take me. He signed. He did. I promise.”
My gaping mouth shut ever so slowly.
The instructors had indeed verified the signatures on the forms. And this was the fallout of those who had forged their male legal guardian’s name. They were being hauled off to jail, their pleas ringing in my ears.
I stiffened as a CA soldier passed in front of me.
He kicked in the door right next to mine.
I held perfectly still as more soldiers filled the long hallway. Time was irrelevant when you were on the cusp of being caught. More rooms were entered, more candidates hauled away.
One of them was Megan.
When it eventually turned deathly quiet, and all of the soldiers were gone, I exhaled, and my body began to shake.
I repeatedly blinked at the candidate across the hall standing in his doorway just as I was. Whereas I was scared for my youth spent in a cell, he was starting to grin in glee for more competition gone.
There were now only four females left, myself included. Three females had been sent home from the fight test. And one had just been sent to jail. I was getting closer to my goal. But I was still vibrating in terror from that scene.
My father had saved my ass.
The five instructors, along with Godric and Finn, walked down the silent hallway. They wore black cargo pants, white t-shirts, and black boots—standard issue recruit attire. Except for that white splint on the major’s nose. That one was all my doing, her nose broken in the fight. A few of the instructors had bandages on their faces or arms, just as Finn had a single bandage on his forearm. That one had been my fault too.
Godric didn’t sport any bandages.
The same male instructor who had explained the rules of the fight test glanced up and down the hallway. His voice was loud as he ordered, “The criminals have been cleared out. I want all of you dressed and downstairs in five minutes. It’s time for another test.”
*
No one was tired even though it was two o’clock in the morning. All the recruits were wide-awake after that raid. No one spoke to anyone. Candidates were dropping off left and right, leaving no room for friendly behavior.
The male instructor’s gaze ran over us from the stairs where the seven of them stood above us. He stated, “This trial will take place below Military House. We have a special training room set up just for this test. This one is our favorite. It will test your strength and your intelligence. You will sit down right where you are until we call your name to begin.”
He didn’t ask if there were any questions.
We didn’t know enough yet to have any.
The instructor barked, “Sit, recruits!”
The shuffle of boots on tiling vibrated through the air as the remaining candidates sat.
I quickly followed suit, sitting and crossing my legs.
He nodded in satisfaction and walked down the stairs, the other instructors following behind him silently. He gazed down at his bracelet and tapped on it. The room was quiet as we waited for the first names picked from his random generator.
The instructor tapped his bracelet once more, and then he peered up. He announced, “Victor Hammond and Poppy Carvene.”
At least my ass wouldn’t be numb this time.
I stood to my feet and peered at the male who came to attention. I shuttered my gaze in a second. I had watched him today when he fought. Victor was excellent with his footwork, and his skills with a knife were intimidating.
“Follow us,” the instructor ordered.
Victor and I followed the seven of them down a set of stairs off the main room. We didn’t speak as we moved at a quick pace to keep up with the instructors. His legs were longer than mine were so I had to take two steps to his one, and I grunted in pain when I slammed my hand on a corner of a wall when we turned at the bottom.
Godric glanced over his shoulder as we continued trailing behind them. “Are you two behaving?”
“She’s fine,” Victor answered. “She just walked into a wall.”
“I did not walk into a wall,” I hissed in his direction. “It was my hand that hit it.”
He shrugged. “Same thing.”
I sighed and rubbed the top of my right hand.
They stopped and stepped into a room on our left.
Godric held the door open for everyone.
I was the last to enter.
When I passed him, the backs of his fingers grazed my side in an intimate touch. The only sign that he even knew me personally. He shut and locked the door behind us.
I stopped in my tracks and stared.
The room was huge, the ceiling tall.
And it had to be for what stood in the middle of it.
A raised glass enclosure in the shape of a rectangle. There were two enormous silver ventilation units attached to the top of it and two glass doors on either end. A round bullseye bag was inside sitting on an easel on the far side, and a lone knife was on the ground on the other.
The instructor stated, “Follow me, recruits.”
The six other instructors took their seats on folding chairs next to the glass ‘arena.’
I was intrigued despite myself.
He’d said it would test our intelligence.
It was a puzzle to me, my attention sharpening.