“Ok,” Yuki yelled out, getting all of their attention. “I’m taking Ian to the infirmary. Marsdon,” she said, addressing the ammunitions guard, “clean up here. You,” she said to Gillie, her voice dropping dangerously. “Come with me.”
Gillie dropped his head and followed behind as she helped support Ian off the firing range.
“Return the guns and knives,” said Marsdon.
“But Yuki said we have to keep ours,” protested Hutch.
“You didn’t make it to the end of your first session. We haven’t even covered maintenance. Hand it in, recruit.” His tone brooked no further argument. Hutch reluctantly handed his weapons over and the rest followed suit.
“Now what?” asked Jaz.
“Free time,” muttered Marsdon. He was turned away from them, having already dismissed them in his mind, and was now focused completely on his weapons.
“Sweet!” said Bettina enthusiastically.
Sarah smiled in response and looked around to find Finn, but he was nowhere in sight.
How was that even possible? she fumed. He was there only a second ago. But his white head was nowhere to be seen. Sarah gave an exasperated snort and turned back to the others.
“So,” she said, “what should we do?”
They ended up just strolling around the compound for a while. At one point they passed the hospital, only to find Ian strolling out with a bandage visible through the new hole in his pants.
“Are you alright?” asked Jaz.
“Yeah, it was only a scratch, really,” said Ian.
“Do you know what happened to Gillie?”
Ian rolled his eyes. “They threw him in jail.”
“What?!”
“He did shoot me, you know,” said Ian sulkily. “It’s a clear violation of the rules.”
“You’re fine,” said Bettina, waving a hand dismissively. “And it was an accident.”
“According to the rules…” began Ian, but he was cut off.
“Screw the rules, it was an accident.”
Ian and Bettina glared at each other for a moment.
“Fine, whatever.” Ian strolled past them, not bothering to turn around or say goodbye.
Bettina blinked, surprised, and then a scowl settled on to her face. “What a jerk.”
“Did he get sent to the ships?” asked Sarah, appalled that they would send Gillie to jail.
“What? No. Military jail. It’s on base.”
“Oh,” said Sarah, feeling a bit stupid. “How long do you think he’ll be in jail for?” she asked. Sarah secretly thought that Gillie probably did need to get into at least some trouble for shooting a fellow team-mate. She wanted someone on her team she could trust, not someone she had to worry about every time they were behind her.
“Probably not long,” said Jaz. “I mean, they still need to train him.”
“Hey,” said Bettina, a rebellious grin spreading over her face, “let’s go talk to him.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not allowed,” said Jaz.
“We’ll just see if we can find his window or something,” said Bettina. “What they don’t see can’t hurt them.” She looked at the reluctant faces around her and changed tact. “C’mon, we’re meant to be a team. We should find out how he’s doing and what’s happening to him. How are we going to trust each other on the field if we can’t even stick up for each other now?” No one said anything but a change in expression had Bettina grinning again. “I think it’s this way,” she said, heading off in one direction. The others exchanged glances and then slowly followed. It’s not like they had anything else to do.
After leading them in the wrong direction for a good fifteen minutes, Bettina finally gave up and, against everyone’s advice, asked a passing man who was carrying a ten kilogram sack of flour to the kitchen. The man swept a quick eye over the group and then shrugged, like he really couldn’t care.
“Main field, to the left as you exit the barracks.” He shifted his sack of flour to a more comfortable position and walked on.
“Seriously? We’ve been walking everywhere and it was right near the barracks?” said Jaz, exasperated.
“I suppose that makes sense,” said Bettina, not put off at all. “I mean, it’s a visual reminder of what happens to you if you screw up. Why not keep it in the forefront of everyone’s mind?”
They reached the main field in two minutes. A quick survey of the surrounding area pinpointed it as a low set building, two removed from their own barracks. Much to Bettina’s glee there seemed to be small, rectangular windows, around ankle height, built in regular intervals along the length of the building. Unfortunately there were also two guards stationed either end. They milled about, trying to look uninterested in the building while they formulated a plan.
“Now what?” hissed Jaz.
“I don’t know?” replied Bettina, exasperated. “You can’t expect me to do everything.”
“What? That’s just,” Jaz rolled her eyes, “completely predictable,” she finished.
“Hey,” began Bettina hotly, but Hutch shut her up with a raised hand.
He was staring at the building, his eyes occasionally flickering towards the guards on either end.
“The only way in or out is through the doors at the ends,” he said. “The guards aren’t bothering to check down the sides. If we get close enough to the wall they probably won’t see us.”
“They’ll see us making a beeline towards it though,” said Sarah, who had a bit of experience with escaping the notice of guards.
Hutch grinned up at her. “Not if we use a distraction.”
“Hey!” called a voice across the field. They all turned around simultaneously, guilt written across their faces. They relaxed when they saw who it was. Boulder. He had separated from them earlier on. He was now munching on an apple. Boulder joined the group.
“What’s happening?”
“Did you nick that apple?” asked Jaz, surprised.
“Um. No.” He took another bite.
“Bullshit. You can only get food during meal times.”
Boulder just shrugged.
Jaz looked to Hutch for support but he was grinning. “Hey Boulder,” he said. “I dare you to walk past the military police guards while munching on that apple.”
Sarah smiled despite herself. The perfect distraction.
“Hell no,” said Boulder.
“You chicken?”
“Hell no!” repeated Boulder again, only this time striding away from them, towards the closest side of the building.
The others supressed a giggle.
“C’mon,” said Hutch. They followed him so that they were now as close as they could get to the building without looking suspicious.
“What about the guards on the other end?” whispered Sarah.
“They’re lazier. They haven’t changed sides in a while, and they never look behind them,” whispered back Hutch.
Boulder had now reached the side with the fidgety guards. The guard closest to him turned his body so that he faced Boulder directly.
“Now!” whispered Hutch. They darted to the wall, and the guard disappeared from sight. “Ok, spread out.”
Bettina and Sarah went one way, Jaz and Hutch the other. They whispered Gillie’s name into the low set windows. Four windows in and Sarah and Bettina heard a small voice float back.
“Psst,” whispered Bettina, making ‘come here’ hand gestures at the other two. Jaz and Hutch turned around and made their way back.
“Gillie, are you ok?” asked Sarah. She felt Hutch and Jaz join them behind her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Gillie. “I’m just in here for three days and then they’ll let me out.”
“That’s alright!” said Sarah relieved.
“I suppose,” said Gillie doubtfully, “but it’s kind of gross in here.”
“You did shoot someone,” pointed out Hutch, “it’s not meant to be a pleasant stay.”
“By accident!” replied
Gillie, a little too loudly. They glanced around but no one came around the corner. “And it’s really, really boring.”
“At least there’s no Sarg down there,” suggested Bettina. “You probably even get to sleep in,” she sounded wistful now.
Hutch saw where she was going and frowned at her. “If you shoot someone just to get to sleep in, I’ll make sure you stay down there forever.”
Bettina rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Hey!” yelled a voice. They all flinched, turning around, only this time it wasn’t Boulder. It was one of the guards. “Hey!” He yelled again.
They ran. They didn’t stop, slow down, or look back until they had been out of sight for at least five minutes. Hutch brought them to a halt. He looked behind them.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Oh thank god,” said Bettina, falling to the ground, puffing heavily.
Sarah could only nod, her own hands were on her knees, trying to regulate her breathing.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, Jaz started laughing. She was laughing so hard that tears were coming out of her eyes. “That,” she wheezed, “was so, fun.”
They couldn’t help it. They laughed too. It was then that Boulder walked up to the group, apple still in hand. Clearly he hadn’t gotten into trouble about it.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
It set them off even more.
The bell for lunch rang. It turned out that pretty much the whole camp had already heard how one of the new recruits had shot one of his team mates. An older recruit walked by with one of his buddies. “Oh look,” he said, nudging his friend, “they’re the ones I was telling you about. The Losers.” It was said with a capital L.
“Hey,” began Hutch defensively, but his jaw dropped open as he saw something behind Sarah, and anything else he was going to say was wiped from his mind. The two older boys saw it too, their jaws also dropping.
“Oh you are kidding me,” said the one who had called them losers. “This is just perfect. This team couldn’t get any worse.”
Sarah swung around, trying to see what they had spotted. It didn’t take her long.
It was Finn.
He had died his hair yellow.
Not blond, but yellow. Daisy, bumblebee yellow.
She felt her own jaw drop. The Sarg was going to kill him. He was drawing stares all around him as me made his way to their table. Once he reached it the laughter started.
“You guys,” said Hutch, his voice strained. “You’re killing me.”
“What did you do that for?” asked Sarah, still completely astounded.
“You heard the Sarg,” said Finn, looking far too complacent for Sarah’s liking. “He said to fix my hair, so I fixed it.”
“Where did you even get that?” she asked. “And what is it?”
Finn took a large mouthful of mashed potato before replying. “Food dye.”
“Oh thank god,” said Hutch. “That washes out, right? We can just wash it out before the Sarg sees you. And kills you. Kills us all.”
“It won’t work,” said Jaz, equally mortified. “His hair’s white. The dye is going to stain. We might be able to make it less bright, but it’s yellow now.”
“Then we’ll shave his head,” said Hutch, determined.
“Whoa, hold on a second,” said Finn, “you aren’t touching my hair.” He looked a bit worried now.
Good, thought Sarah. He should be.
Boulder snorted a noseful of mashed potato down the table as he tried not to laugh and failed.
“Eugh,” said Bettina, trying to avoid the mash-snot, “that’s disgusting.”
But Boulder had set them all off again. Sarah finally saw the funny side and started laughing too, even Hutch gave in.
“You’ve got to admit,” said Finn, enjoying the attention, “it’s going to be funny when he sees it.”
Chapter Thirteen
By the time lunch ended they were officially known as the Loser Team. To make matters worse, it was decided that instead of an afternoon spent learning how to survive in a war zone, they were punished for Gillie’s mistake and made to run laps around the parade ground. Their misery was compounded when they found out that they were to be supervised by Dylan, the boy who had started the “Team Loser” tag during the lunchbreak.
And it didn’t help that the Sarg finally caught sight of Finn’s hair. The Sarg happened to be walking by at the same time they were hustled to the parade ground. Sarah would have laughed at his double take if he didn’t look like he could kill them all with a single glare. The older recruit, Dylan, had seen the Sarg coming and brought them to attention. Finn’s erect posture didn’t waver as the Sarg made a beeline for him. For a moment the Sarg just stood directly in front of Finn, their noses practically touching. Finn looked straight ahead, as if he could see right through the man. After a tense few seconds, the Sarg finally spoke. Or rather, he shouted, spittle flying everywhere, especially in Finn’s face.
“What the hell is this, recruit?”
“Sir?” asked Finn, all innocence.
Sarah caught her breath. This was not going to go down well.
“You’re hair, you ignorant piece of shit,” said the Sarg, his voice dangerously low. Sarah was fairly sure she could hear his teeth grinding.
“You told me to fix it, Sir. So I did.”
The Sarg’s face turned beetroot red. Sarah was worried that he was going to blow an artery. Suddenly the colour drained from the Sarg’s face. His voice came out silky, and somehow sounded even more dangerous than it did before.
“Follow,” he ordered.
The Sarg strode away and, after a slight hesitation, Finn followed after him, his posture still as erect as the Sarg’s. He darted Sarah an exaggerated, nervous grin, winked, and then turned back. Sarah shook her head slowly after him. He was going to get himself killed. Although, if she was honest, she did find his courage a little sexy.
“Right, that’s enough,” said Dylan finally as the Sarg and Finn disappeared around a corner. “Laps. Get to it.”
“But Sir,” whined Ian, “Gillie isn’t even here.”
“Do you think I don’t know that, recruit?” bellowed Dylan. He wasn’t Sarg, but he was close enough. “Do I look blind to you?”
“No, Sir,” said Ian. “But,” Sarah closed her eyes, wishing he would shut-up, but he didn’t, “but I was the one who got shot?”
“Twenty push-ups!” demanded Dylan. “Now.”
Ian gave up and dropped to the ground. Dylan glared at the rest of them. “What are you losers waiting for?” he snarled. Inwardly cursing Ian, they dropped to the ground and joined him. Sarah’s arms were jelly by the end. Thankfully, Dylan didn’t seem to care so much about technique as the Sarg did and so she managed to get away with a handful of sloppy ones. When the last of them had stood up they were sent running around the parade ground. As they ran Dylan stood in the middle, yelling at them.
“You think this is tough?” he yelled. “This isn’t even a warm-up compared to the real thing! When you are out there, fighting for the Covenant, you will be dreaming of these laps with a smile on your lips! It will seem like heaven! This will improve you. This will get you fit. This will give you a fighting chance!” He continued. “And you will want to be the best! Because heaven help you if you get captured by the enemy! Do you know what they do to their prisoners?” He paused, but there was no answer besides laboured breaths. “You will be tortured for information! And when they are done with you, if you are lucky, they will kill you! If you are unlucky they will send your ass to the mines, where you will undergo back-breaking labour with no hope of salvation until you die. They may even experiment on you! Do you understand, recruits?” He barked.
“Yes, sir,” they puffed out, roughly simultaneously.
“Then you understand that you need to be the best. Because the best is the only way you are going to survive.”
***
Finn was returned twenty minutes later by a trium
phant Sarg. The Sarg pushed him forward into the middle of the parade ground and then walked off whistling. Not that anyone was paying the Sarg any attention. All eyes were on Finn. Everyone stopped running and stared. Even Dylan was staring. Then they started to laugh.
He was bald.
Not even a single blade of hair remained left on his head.
Finn rubbed his bald head sheepishly. Sarah was having trouble staring at him through the tears of laughter in her eyes. He looked so different. For half a second she thought he was angry, and then the corner of his mouth twitched up.
“All right, everyone,” said Dylan eventually. “Get back to it. That means you too, cue ball.”
Their laughter doubled them over.
Chapter Fourteen
Three further weeks of intense training followed. Gillie was released from jail. Finn’s hair started to grow back at an almost alarming pace. Their shooting improved. Sarah was now hitting the centre of her target nearly every time. Finn managed to hit the target every time, but where it was changed dramatically. He did, however, go far better in hand-to-hand combat than Sarah. They were taught about the different ammunition. Standard bullets were obvious, but stingers were small darts containing poison that incapacitated a person for two days. Flashers were light grenades, which would blind a person for up to ten minutes if they looked at it directly. Stunners were capsules that, upon contact with the victim, would break and spread an electric current through their body and immobilise them. Bees were irritants, little rubber bullets coated in a solution that caused hallucinations and large welts to appear on the body. They were useful when you wanted to distract and disorientate, rather than kill. Most of these were, just as Yuki had said, able to be fired out of a standard gun. Both Hutch and Ian were competing for the position of weapons specialist, to be taught how to use the other, more specialised weapons, but Sarah knew they didn’t have a chance. Jaz was going to get it hands down. They had played an inter-team game of paintball the other day. Their team had lost, but not by far. Jaz’s strike rate alone had almost tipped them over the winning line.
The Weapon (The Hourglass Series Book 2) Page 6