“Hit the deck!” I hear someone yell as soon as I’ve gotten out of my harness. I press myself flat against the ground, mud and all.
In front of me stretches an oozing brown pit, surrounded by the rock wall I just descended on one side and a bank of trees on the other. Barbed wire stretches across the gap about a foot above my head. I hear the pop of weapons as people in the trees fire blanks at me and the other recruits slogging through the pit.
“Get some!” someone yells from above.
I keep my head down and start crawling, inch by inch, through the mud. It oozes in through my clothes and slides down the neck of my shirt. My hands and face are covered but I keep crawling, head down, just an inch above the mud. The bullets aren’t real, but they’re meant to sound real and right now that’s all that really matters.
Another recruit pushes his way through the muck in front of me and I stall, having to wait before I can move again. Hair dangles in my face, coming loose from the mandatory bun I’ve got it in, and I blow with all my might to get it out of the way.
“Hurry up, recruit!” I yell at the guy in front of me, but he’s going too slow. I glance behind and there’s a line of Worms waiting. They’re going to think it’s all my fault. Is he hurt? Tired? Who the hell cares? “Whatever,” I mutter and push myself up equal to him. “You okay?”
He glares at me, his eyes like moons in the darkness of his face. “Shut the hell up.”
“You’re keeping everyone back. There’s a line of people behind you.”
“Like I’m going to let some girl tell me what the hell to do. Just get back in line.”
“No way. You want to take your sweet little time, that’s fine. But you’re not holding me back.” I move my elbows, first one, then the other, and crawl past him. The bullets are coming with more frequency now and I really don’t want to be the reason everyone “dies.” I make my way past him and pick up speed. The way in front of me is clear. Easy going now, I crawl on, rocks scraping my stomach.
At the end of the mud pit I pull myself up and make my way to my company. They’re busy, picking up large stones and arranging them on the ground in the shape of an A for Alpha Company.
“Way to go, McKenna,” Ritchie, Kelly’s roommate, says. “Grab a rock and help out.”
He’s the only one who talks to me, but a few others smile and nod approval as I grab a rock so big I have to carry it with two hands. I place mine and when Short and Cross appear, I hand them each a huge rock of their own. They look exhausted as they put the last two in place, finishing the A. Then we take a few seconds to rest while watching the little camouflaged ants of the rest of the battalion make their way down the ravine, through the mud pit, and to their companies. Finally Kelly appears, high-fiving me and the other recruits, taking time to rally us, even though we’re exhausted.
I high-five Cross and Short. “Way to go, guys. Almost done, huh?”
Cross couldn’t smile any bigger if she tried. “In just a few hours we’ll be official recruits. God, this has been intense.”
“No kidding.” I straighten the orange hat on my head. “I’m just asking for an hour of sleep.”
“I want a shower. That’s all I can think about.” She glances at her roommate. “I gotta go cheer her up or something. She’s dragging today.”
Cross and Short sit off to the side, now deep in conversation, oblivious to the team motivation that is going on right in front of them. But they stand and get ready to march when it’s time to move out.
We’re one recruit short, though. Katie is nowhere to be seen.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
SIX
EVEN THOUGH IT’S BEEN OVER A HUNDRED DEGREES THE last five days, the water of the Maury River is still cool when we finally arrive after hiking seven miles from our rappelling site. It takes all I have in me not to squeal as the water reaches my neck.
Once in, we’re ordered to run in the water together as a company, following Huffman, the upperclassman Drill talked to the morning of the five-mile run, and our blue-and-gold Alpha Company flag down the river. Thirty minutes. An hour. Ten hours. I can’t tell how long we’re in the water. At a shallow section, where the water splashes against our ankles, we drop to the ground. I can’t feel my feet and my fingers sting from the tiny cuts caused by doing push-ups in the river.
“Flutter kicks! Move!”
At this point, I would kill Matthews if it would put an end to Declaration Day. I lie on my back, using my arms to keep my head propped above water. Still, we scissor our legs out in front of us, stirring up the river mud. Cold, gritty water fills my mouth and I sit up, coughing and spluttering. I try to squeeze air into my lungs but it won’t come.
“Keep going, McKenna,” Matthews says, although he’s looking up the river bank and farther up the hill rather than at me. “Don’t slack off now.”
I finally catch my breath and spit water from my mouth. I grit my teeth and lift my legs, moving them up and down to Drill’s count. Every inch of me hurts but I do it—no way am I giving Matthews a reason to yell at me for holding everyone back or not pulling my weight.
Upperclassmen shoot blanks all around us, and yells echo up and down the river as companies get to each physical training portion of the river run. Of course at the DMA we can’t have just a simple march through the river.
When we get the order to march, Cross stumbles and I reach out to grab her arm. Short is moving slowly, and because we’re sticking together, we’re at the back of the pack. Our recruit buddies are way up ahead.
“You okay?” I ask. Kelly leads the rest of the company around a curve in the river and we’re alone in the water.
“Damn rock,” Short says. “Slippery as hell. I rolled my ankle, but I’ll be fine.”
“You’re doing really well,” I say, once the last of our company is gone and the three of us are alone in this section. We haven’t seen Katie since the rappel. Bravo is coming up fast behind us.
“I know I’m not the most obvious person to sign up for something like this. You must have it made, though, right?” Cross’s words are a dig even though I don’t think she means them to be.
“Matthews has been riding her harder than any of us, Bekah.” Short walks slowly, pushing her legs through the water.
“She’s the sister of the cadet colonel. I just figured once classes start he’s not going to let anything happen to her.”
It’s what I’ve been scared of all along—anyone thinking I’m getting preferential treatment that lets me ease through the Corps without really completing Amos’s dare. She doesn’t know Jonathan, though. There’s no way he’s going to cut me any slack. “We need to hurry up,” I say. “We’re falling behind.”
After just a few more minutes, though, Short speaks up. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” It’s the first time I’ve seen her doubt herself, but she’s looking for all the world like she wants the river to swallow her up.
“Sure you can. It can’t be much farther,” I say, trying to sound encouraging. I think it just comes out sounding annoyed.
“How do you know?”
“I heard the cadre talking about it. They’re tired, too, you know. We’re almost done.”
Short shakes her head, shivering in the river and not even moving. “With today, but not with the year. I want to go home.”
“Come on, Short. We’ve talked about this in the room.” Cross sounds annoyed. The fact that they’ve had this conversation before surprises me.
“I know.” Her teeth are chattering now, her eyes about to spill the tears that are gathered there. “But I don’t have anything else to prove. I made it through Recruit Week. It’s more than a lot of guys can say.”
“Yeah, but—” I try to rally her, but she cuts me off.
“No. I’m done.”
“That’s right! Quit! No one wants you here!” A v
oice yells from the riverbank. They can’t hear us over the roar, but it must be obvious what’s happening. Boy or girl, quitters all look the same. “Get the hell out of our school. You sluts aren’t even worth screwing!”
The pain of the words is obvious on her face. She’s the last one of us I expected to quit. Strong, squared away. If she can’t make it . . . but I can’t let the doubt creep in.
“Ignore them,” I say, looking around nervously. We’ve got to pick up the pace—the company’s already too far ahead. “If you quit, that’s it. You can’t regret it and come back later.”
“I know.” Her teeth clack together. Then she decides. Her shoulders hunch over and she takes a step to the side. “Good luck, girls.” When she turns away, she holds her hands up in surrender. Cadets cheer on the riverbank, and instantly I’m pissed. They treat us like we’re no better than animals.
“We’ve got to get going.” I glance at Short once more but she’s made up her mind. Bravo Company’s flag bearer leads the way and they’re bearing down on us.
“So, let’s move.” Cross takes off, not bothering to give her roommate another glance, and suddenly it’s me who’s the last one.
Short has made it up the riverbank and is sitting there, head hung low, not even listening to the upperclassmen around her, laughing and jeering, happy they’ve broken her. I give her a small wave and then turn away and push on. I’ve got to catch up to Cross, then we’ve got to catch up to the rest of the company.
The water is waist high here, making it hard to move while dressed in full camouflage pants and combat boots. Every step uses energy my muscles just don’t have. The only thing that saves me is that the freaking day is almost over. I can see the end up ahead: a giant DMA flag waving over the bridge that leads back into town. I keep pushing on and soon I’ve caught up, surrounded on every side by my recruit buddies. I can’t even take a step without stumbling over them.
Matthews is helping my recruit brothers climb onto the riverbank and grabs Kelly’s hand in front of me. “Great job, Kelly.”
“Corporal Matthews, thank you, Corporal Matthews.”
Once Kelly is out of the way, I reach up and Matthews grips my hand. Just as I’m starting to climb, though, he loosens his fingers and I fall into the water, a sharp rock digging into my elbow. Tears sting my eyes instantly, but Cross reaches for me and helps me stand up.
“Ignore him. Let’s finish this.” She’s determined to finish strong. Kelly reaches a hand down. When I grab hold, he puts his other hand on my wrist and helps me climb up on the bank. We both hoist Cross up and just like that, we’re done. We’re officially recruits. Around us, Alpha Company cheers. We join in, for a moment free of any worry.
After high-fiving, Kelly leans in. “Are you okay?” he whispers, though I doubt anyone could hear him over the splashing water as Bravo reaches the bank.
“I’m fine.”
“Your arm okay?”
“I said I’m fine.” My elbow throbs a little, but it’s not going to kill me.
He humphs. “Matthews is a dick.”
“You aren’t wrong.” I grin, hoping he knows I’m not mad at him. Just tired. We’re all so damn tired. But we did it. We survived Declaration Day.
“Alpha Company, fall in!” Drill yells. Once we’re in position he continues. “Congratulations. You are now officially Worms of Denmark Military Academy.” He pauses for a minute, our cheers too loud for him to continue. “At this time you will fall out to the barracks where you will shower and be at ease. Lights out at 2300 but you are not to square the halls or walk in the gutters the rest of the evening. Is that understood?”
“Drill Sergeant Stamm, yes, Drill Sergeant Stamm!” The reward we’ve been given for doing the impossible today doesn’t seem like much, but the grins from my recruit buddies say it all—we’ve earned this.
“In your racks you’ll find instructions on how to log in to your email as well as the rules for calling home. Five minute limit on phone calls. You will line up outside Corporal Matthews’s door to get the phone. Thirty minute limit on the computers in the science building or in the library. Movies are available for your viewing pleasure in the library as well. You may not sleep in your racks until lights-out and as usual, doors must be propped open if you are in your rooms during the day. If you do leave, don’t forget to sign out.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the recruits and falling for a minute on me before moving on. “Good job, guys! Alpha company: fall out!”
The fall out is more of a fall over as we try to force our muscles to move once more.
Kelly waits for Cross and me before heading up to the barracks.
“Did you see Quinn after the rappel?” She’s nowhere down here on the riverbank—we females are easy to spot.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know if she made it down. She was still at the top when I went over the edge. Matthews stayed with her.”
Not like that would have been encouraging at all. “If she didn’t do the obstacle, would they have kept her out of the river part? Or do you think she quit?”
“She’s your roommate. She say anything about quitting?”
“She was tired this morning, just like all of us.” But then I think of Short, who I didn’t ever expect to quit.
“We’ll find her. Maybe she’s at the infirmary,” Cross chimes in.
“Great. That’s the last thing we need to be seen doing—going to the infirmary.” If upperclassmen see us walking in there, they’ll think we’re trying to get off easy.
“I’ll go check on her,” Kelly says. “Just let me get cleaned up first.”
“Thanks.” I’m with him—I can’t wait to get clean.
“God, I need a shower,” Cross says, picking up speed to a light jog. “See you guys back at the barracks.”
“Hey! Don’t use all the hot water!” I run after her, and Kelly does, too.
I didn’t know it was possible to have so much mud on my skin and in my ears. But finally, after fifteen minutes, the scalding water runs clear into the drain. I dress in PT gear and stand in line to call Mom. When I approach, my recruit buddies stop whatever they were talking about. Wilson, a recruit from first platoon glares at me.
“What’s your problem?” I’m too tired to sugarcoat anything. It’s going to take every ounce of strength I have just to ask Matthews to borrow his phone.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, come up with that one on your own, did you? I’ve held up just fine this week.”
“You needed help on the rope climb. You couldn’t get out of the river on your own—” He sounds like a tiny little Matthews. “Girls shouldn’t be here. I didn’t sign up for a watered down version of the DMA.”
“I’m pretty sure my time in the obstacle course beat yours, and I think I saw Matthews pull you out of the river, too, right?”
Nix, who just came up behind me, steps out of line and stands toe-to-toe with Wilson. “Back off, dude. She made it through just like the rest of us. She didn’t get anything easier than we did.”
“Whatever, man.” Wilson gives me one more look of disgust. “I’ll make my call later.” He turns and walks back down the hall.
“Next,” Matthews yells as Ritchie leaves his room, wiping at tears on his face.
I look away from him quickly. My lip trembles. “Corporal Matthews, this recruit would like to call this recruit’s mother, Corporal Matthews,” I say when he asks who I’m calling.
“Well, isn’t that sweet. Why don’t you ask her to come get you now that you’ve made your point?”
He hands me the phone and I dial the number. She picks up on the third ring.
“Hey, Mom. It’s me.”
“Sam?” Her words are hesitant, like she doesn’t believe I’m actually calling.
“Yeah. I just wanted to tell you I made it through Hell Week.”
“You’re okay?”
Matthews sits at his desk, arms across his chest. He’s wearing camouflage pants with the brown un
dershirt. It’s tight around his arms and he cracks his knuckles as he watches me.
I clear my throat. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
There’s a long pause and I hear her take a drink of something. “Well, that’s just great, Sammy. Just great.”
“Time’s up, McKenna.”
There’s no way it’s been five minutes, but it’s not like I can argue. “I gotta go, Mom.”
“Of course you do. Probably some formation you’ve got to get to.”
“Right. So I’ll see you at Parents’ Weekend?”
“I’ll have to see.” She hangs up before I can even say “I love you.”
“Well, sounds like your mom is real proud of you, McKenna.” He laughs. “Now get the hell out of my room.”
I slam the phone down and push my way out the door.
“See you in the library, Mac?” Nix asks.
“Sure. Nothing else to do.” I say it quickly and move past him so he won’t see the tears in my eyes.
While Alpha Company sits around a television watching an old VHS movie about kids at military school—because we need to watch others go through the same shit, apparently—I sit at the last computer in a row of computers. I hear the guys laughing and promise myself I’ll join them in a minute.
I’m logged in to my school email in a matter of seconds. There’s a note from Dad reminding me to talk with Rev and one from Jonathan setting up the weekly meeting Mom’s forcing us to have in the chapel, plus a few general ones from school with headings like “Lunch Menu Update” and “Worm Outings in September.” It only takes a second to respond to Dad, telling him I survived Hell Week and that I’ll get a chance to meet with Rev tomorrow. I’ll look at the school ones later, but there’s one that catches my eye. The email glows blue on the computer screen, sent an hour ago. I click to open it.
To: [email protected]
From:[email protected]
Subject: Congrats
Congrats on surviving Hell Week. What you accomplished was amazing. But you’ve proved enough for the first year. Why not just quit while you’re still ahead and let someone else do the hard stuff?
Rites of Passage Page 5