The Suicide Project (Rebirth Book 1)

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The Suicide Project (Rebirth Book 1) Page 2

by Yazz Ustaris


  Suddenly, Gideon appeared on Sam’s other side, and I flashed a broad grin at him. He beamed back, hunching over to plant his hands on his knees as he tried desperately to catch his breath. Once Gideon straightened to his full height of 6’3, we high-fived each other in triumph while I continued to gingerly pat Sam’s back with my other hand in consolation. All three of us were soaked, and I was weird about prolonged touching when we were saturated in our own sweat.

  Unlike Gideon and me, Sam absolutely despised exercise, so naturally these past six months were downright hellish for him. Looking at the tears that dribbled from his eyes, I could tell they were mainly tears of joy and relief this time now that boot camp for us was finally over. Typically, in the real world, standard military boot camp lasted roughly 12 weeks, however since we were now part of a secret government program, nothing about our training was considered “normal”. Catching Sam’s eye, I winked at him and was instantly rewarded with a tremulous smile.

  The sudden silence of the radio seemed to magnify the sound of heavy combat boots thudding on asphalt as Sergeant Ramsey approached. Smiling in gratitude as he passed over three large bottles of water, I quickly uncapped my bottle and took large greedy gulps of the cold liquid. Instantly, I felt refreshed and rejuvenated. Watching the sergeant curiously as he paused in front of Sam, I felt my mouth gape open in shock as I witnessed him lift Sam up in a big bear hug, sweat and all. Gross! I almost choked on my water, I was that stunned by the sight. Up to this point in our training, I had only ever seen two expressions on his face whenever he addressed Sam; anger or cold indifference. Hell, I wasn’t even sure up until now whether he liked Sam or not, which was a testament to the guy’s poker-face-of-steel.

  At 16 years old, Samuel was the youngest of the trio and had a decidedly fragile disposition about him. He was newly out of the closet following the announcement of his homosexuality, when Gideon and I first met him six months prior. He and I started out the same height at 5’6, but whereas I was already a healthy weight, Sam had been about seventy pounds overweight and seriously lacked any self-confidence at all. He had a full shaggy head of reddish-brown hair, and was decorated from head to toe with freckles. His best feature by far though, were his eyes. They were a startling deep green and reminded me of freshly cut blades of grass on a cool spring day. Upon arrival he had been fearful, withdrawn, and depressed. It had taken over a month of encouragement on my part to coax him out of his shell. Gradually as his walls came down, his vivacious, flamboyantly engaging nature began to shine through, and you couldn’t help but love being in his company. Ever since then, I had a soft spot for him and definitely felt overprotective of him. I hated to see him upset.

  Gazing at Sam now with pride, I acknowledged that he had really come a long way since his arrival. As his endurance to exercise steadily increased, his waistline began to shrink, and his crying spells began to dwindle in frequency. He had grown taller, became leaner, and now possessed some serious muscle definition, especially in his upper arms. Even his voice had deepened! God bless puberty! Gone was the soft, doughy cherub I had first met half a year ago. Before me now stood a confident young man with a renewed sense of purpose and much promise. The transformation in him was truly staggering, but then again, I always loved a good makeover. Even though Sam no longer cried as frequently as he once did in the beginning, I figured his tears were the reason why the sergeant never warmed up to him and tended to push him harder than he did Gideon and me. I glanced at Gideon and noticed with amusement that he too was still gaping at Sergeant Ramsey in amazement. Noticing the huge sweat stain that now decorated the front of the sergeant’s shirt from hugging Sam, I wrinkled my nose in distaste and pointed my finger at him while exclaiming, “Ewwwwwww! Yuck!”

  Laughing out loud, the sergeant finally spoke. “I know it may not have seemed like it to ya guys, but y’all were an absolute pleasure to work with. Every time I gave orders, y’all obeyed me with no questions asked. You ain’t never put up a fight, never argued with me over the practice drills, and not once did you guys miss a day of training. Y’all are so agreeable to all of my demands, it’s almost like yer enjoyin’ yerselves! You have no idea what a refreshin’ change of pace these past six months have been fer me. Granted, you may not have liked certain aspects of the training, but the three of you did it anyways.”

  I smiled as I soaked in his praise. I always enjoyed listening to the sergeant talk because he had a rich southern drawl that rolled over you like slow molasses. Because he was a grizzled older man in his late fifties, his voice had a deep scratchy edge to it that I found highly appealing. It made me think of caramel flavored coffee, or intensely dark chocolate, the way his voice always sent delicious shivers up my spine. I figured he may have been a smoker at some point in his life which was what attributed to his husky timbre. After numerous conversations in the Common Room, Sam and I agreed that we were both in love with Sergeant Ramsey’s sexy cowboy voice. Grinning conspiratorially at Sam while biting my lip, I saw Gideon shaking his head and rolling his eyes at us in my peripheral vision.

  “You guys have made me so darned proud of you! You have exceeded my highest expectations. Y’all have earned my utmost respect. Hell, I even added an extra hour to your track time knowin’ that Sam would likely drop dead from the exertion, but not one of y’all complained!” He beamed broadly at us with satisfaction as he crossed his arms over his chest, his bulging biceps flexing. “I have waited a long damned time for a group of soldiers like you to come along. Y’all are most definitely ready to join the others.”

  An extra hour!! Sneaky bastard! I knew something was different! No wonder if felt like we were running forever, I groaned to myself internally while shooting Sergeant Ramsey the stink-eye. However, at the mention of the others, I instantly perked up and a spine-tingling shiver of anticipation started to course through me. I felt my lips curving upward in excitement. The Others! All this hard work of training and exercising for the last six months, was in preparation of meeting the other members of the program. Six long months of blood, sweat, and Sam’s tears; of endless physical exams and endurance tests…it all boiled down to this moment when Sergeant Ramsey would evaluate us and decide whether or not we were qualified to move forward and join the prestigious rank of The Others. I caught Gideon’s eye and nodded at him in jubilation as the full meaning of Sergeant Ramsey’s words sank in. This short chapter of our lives was over, and by the time we woke up tomorrow everything would be new and exciting.

  “I thought you didn’t like me, Sir.” Sam sniffled, baffled and slightly uncomfortable with the show of affection he had received from the sergeant. Clearly, Sam was still stuck in the present and his train of thought didn’t mirror that of me and Gideon’s. We had fast-forwarded to the allure of our new futures but Sam still couldn’t get past the hug.

  “I don’t dislike you soldier. I admit that I had my doubts bout’ you in the beginnin’, but you’ve come a long way from when you first got here. You wouldn’t have developed into the disciplined, hard-workin’ individual ya are now if any of us had babied you along the way. Bottom line is that everyone who participates in this here training program needs to prove themselves to be physically competent before we can permit them to advance. I wanted you to succeed. Can’t say I got no qualms about pushin’ you harder than the other two. Look at ya now! You’d get the “Most Improved” award if such a thing existed here.”

  “You really think I’m ready to graduate from boot camp and move forward in the program?” Sam responded doubtfully.

  Smiling encouragingly, he replied, “Well, you are now. Actually, we all felt that Teagan and Gideon were ready a couple of months back but you still had a little ways to go so we decided y’all could benefit from the full six month course. You three function extremely well as a true team and I knew that if I held you back and not the other two, they would both demand to voluntarily stay behind and train the additional two months with you.” Raising an eyebrow, he turned to address me and Gi
deon. “Am I right?” he inquired. Without hesitating, Gideon and I both simultaneously nodded our heads in affirmation. Smiling with approval he continued, “Besides, we didn’t want the other soldiers to become even more jealous of you if we graduated you from boot camp early. Everyone else trained for the required six months.”

  “Uhhh…even more jealous? What do you mean by that!?” I demanded, uncomfortable and confused with the notion that we might already have trouble brewing with the other test subjects before we even got the chance to meet them.

  “I’ll explain everything later on tonight when we meet in the Common Room for a short meeting. For now, you three hit the showers and grab dinner. We’ll reconvene in three hours, at which time I’ll be briefing y’all on what to expect tomorrow when you make the move to the larger barracks.” Pausing to smile at us again with unmistakable pride shining in his eyes, he motioned us forward with his hands, signaling his intent to hug all three of us. In that instant, my whole demeanor changed. My body grew rigid as I squealed in disgust and I dodged swiftly to the left in order to evade his reach.

  “Seriously?!” I demanded in disbelief. “We’re all drenched in our own stinky sweat and you’re seriously trying to hug us?” I glared at the Sergeant as he stood in front of me like a statue with his arms still outstretched, and an amused smile frozen on his lips. Holding up my fingers in front of me to make the sign of the cross, I took two steps back further away from his reach. Ignoring the chuckles that burst forth from both of my cohorts at my actions, I warily regarded the sergeant with mistrust. “I’ll thank you to stay out of my personal bubble until I’m clean and presentable.”

  “I got a hug,” Sam pointed out. “It’s only fair that you and Gideon get one from him too,” he reasoned with a sly smile.

  I was genuinely appalled at the thought of anyone trying to hug me in my current state. Everyone knew it grossed me out to be touched post-workout. How could anyone in their right mind want to embrace someone who was soggy with sweat and smelled anything less than fresh? Seriously….YUCK! Suddenly, I was overcome with the sneaking suspicion that Sergeant Ramsey watched us on camera more frequently than I thought, because it was something that both Gideon and Sam tormented me often about in the Common Room. We had actually turned it into a game of sorts that we occasionally played where one or the other would pretend to try and hug me after a workout, and I would lash out in a few defensive maneuvers to block their “attack hugs”.

  Try as they might, neither one of them had been able to get close enough to grab me in a hug. Mainly because the few times one of them had gotten even remotely close, I had lashed out pretty hard, and with a few quick and painful jabs, I sent out the message that I meant business. Stay out of my bubble! Gideon was the more aggressive of the two though, and I knew he enjoyed the challenge. However, unlike me, he was confronted with a dilemma because on one hand, I was a woman and he didn’t believe in raising a hand to a woman. He was hesitant to go all-out against me for fear of hurting me unintentionally.

  On the other hand, he probably thought it was embarrassing to have his ass handed to him on a platter by a girl if he ever did decide to come at me full force and lost. After all, Gideon knew I had over twelve years of martial arts experience under my belt, whereas he had zero experience. All Gideon had was his height advantage and his newly sculpted muscular body. He had gotten pretty buff, so I knew he could overpower me on strength alone if he knew the right moves to restrain me. Regardless, I always encouraged him not to hold back and to think of me as a soldier and not a woman. In the end, he held back out of respect for me saying he didn’t want to accidently hurt me because I was his friend, not because I was a woman.

  Reminiscing on his arrival half a year ago, I recalled Gideon being a tall, bean-poled sliver of a guy. He had worn glasses and looked as though he had never spent any time in the sun, opting instead to hole up indoors in front of his computer. He had stood with his shoulders slightly hunched as if to draw less attention to himself, and he always had his eyes averted, never looking anyone straight in the eye. He had blonde, shoulder length hair that was parted down the middle and it hung forward partially concealing his face. Scrutinizing him now, I decided that his transformation was every bit as impressive as Sam’s. There was no evidence of his gawky former self at all, and he looked like a completely different person. He had gained weight and filled out. Gideon was now a broad-shouldered Adonis with healthy bronzed skin and a good-natured disposition. He stood tall and straight and now looked you directly in the eye when he spoke to you. His smile came easy these days and it was clear to everyone that he was now very comfortable in his own skin.

  Gideon no longer required the need for glasses, so the beauty of his sapphire eyes was easier to appreciate without the hindrance of metal frames. Staring into his eyes now, I was abruptly brought back to the present as I noticed they currently twinkled at me with mirth, as he regarded me with affection. Suddenly, the sergeant threw his head back and bellowed with laughter, clearly enjoying the disgusted expression that I forgot was still plastered on my face. The fact that I was genuinely offended over the mere idea of being touched post-work out, didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Everyone’s right…you do have the best facial expressions,” Sergeant Ramsey chuckled as he gazed at me with some inscrutable countenance. “After observing you carefully these past few months, I now understand why you’re everyone’s favorite.”

  What the hell? The sergeant’s cryptic words alarmed me, causing my feelings of uneasiness to escalate. He basically confirmed my suspicion that multiple eyes had been observing us, but it only created more questions that my inquisitive mind demanded answers to. Anticipating my train of thought, he called for us to stand to attention, promising to answer all of our questions later that evening. Damn! So unfair to just leave us hanging like that! After saluting the sergeant as we were taught, we watched him pivot on his heel and stride off the track in the direction of his jeep parked nearby.

  None of us knew exactly where Sergeant Ramsey went off to, or what he did after our daily drills. We only saw him during training and that was it. The rest of the time we were left to our own devices, although we were never truly “alone”.

  All I knew about our location, is that supposedly we were at a secret military base somewhere in the Nevada desert. I guess that explained why it was so damn hot all the time. It was all very hush-hush when I questioned the sergeant about it. The building where we were being housed was surrounded by a high barb-wired electric fence. We were free to roam anywhere we wanted within the confines of the building, so we had access to the small Mess Hall where we ate all of our meals, the large gym where we did indoor activities, both the indoor and outdoor pools, and the Common Room. Unlike a true barracks, each of us had our own bedroom with attached bathrooms. All of our bedrooms exited into the Common Room area which was like one big living room complete with couches, a ping pong table, a computer for our use, and a large flat screen TV. We even had a kitchenette area with a breakfast bar and stools. In the kitchenette was a fridge that was fully stocked with a huge assortment of beverages so we didn’t have to leave the comfort of the Common Room if we got thirsty in the middle of the night. It was super convenient.

  However, each room within the building contained multiple surveillance cameras. The only rooms that didn’t contain cameras were our bedrooms and bathrooms. It was a curious thing having it now confirmed to us that multiple people were watching our daily activities. But not knowing exactly how many people watched us on the other end of the cameras was extremely nerve wracking. The sergeant made it sound like a lot, when in my mind, I had pictured only one or two people sitting in a tiny room somewhere as they monitored us on occasion. Honestly, I’ve had a long time to grow used to the presence of the cameras, so after a while I resigned myself to the fact that we were inevitably stuck with them. The sergeant never talked about them, so none of us bothered to ask what they were there for.

  I tried to ignore them at f
irst, but it was impossible when we realized they were always aimed at us. The gentle whirring noise of the cameras as they slowly panned in our direction, was evidence that we were kept in their line of sight at all times. Jokingly, I started waving at the cameras one day as I was passing by, and laughingly, the other two followed suit. At the time, I didn’t think far enough ahead to contemplate the repercussions of our actions. It was just a little harmless fun in my book. Inwardly, I cringed when I recalled all the times I winked at the cameras, or struck a teasing “model” pose as I sashayed past, or made countless funny faces at random moments just for the hell of it.

  Groaning, I remembered flashing exaggerated thumbs up signs at the cameras in the gym every time I scored a basket with the basketball, and all the times I performed my dorky little victory dance when I won a round of ping pong in the Common Room. Speaking of dancing, a little whimper of mortification escaped my lips as I remembered teaching the guys how to dance in the gym per their request. Neither one of them had much experience with dancing before coming here and I absolutely loved to dance. Naturally, I took on the role of their teacher since I used to be on the dance/drill team in high school. Also, since I was over the age of twenty one, I already had experience with the whole clubbing scene. When it came to dancing, Gideon and Sam were both true amateurs. Thusly, three times a week, the gym became our own private dance club.

  Sam caught on fast, but Gideon had no rhythm whatsoever and it took a good month before Sam and I were able to deem him nightclub worthy. Gideon really started taking an interest in dancing after that, and insisted on learning many different styles of dance. One week we did swing music from the 50’s and 60’s, and another week we did hip hop. The week after that we did techno/club, followed by slow dancing the following week. (Gideon claimed it was something he needed to know in case he ever got the chance to impress the ladies.)

 

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