by Nicole Grane
Chapter 5
As instructed, I was dressed and on my way to formation at fifteen hundred hours. Upon entering the main gym, I stopped dead in my tracks. The whole “platoon” was staring at me. I felt like I was standing in the middle of the room naked. Iris had been right. Sixth period P.E. was in fact an all male class.
“Sorry,” I mouthed, apologetically as I retreated backward. Clearly there was some mistake.
“Hollyander!” shouted a voice from behind me causing me to jump. “Why are you not in formation?”
Was he crazy? Did Gunny think I was actually going to stay in this class? “They’re guys!” I shrieked. Yeah, I was stating the obvious, but someone had to.
Light laughter broke out.
“Did I tell any of you girls it was free time?” Gunny’s voice boomed like a megaphone over my head. I cringed at the sound of it. “Hollyander! Get your butt in line next to Arnold there.” He pointed to a tall gangly looking boy.
“You must be joking.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not staying in this class.”
Gunny leaned over into what was clearly my personal space. “You will move that butt of yours into formation right now or I will move it for you.”
My mouth popped open. “How dare you! You can’t talk to me like that. Besides, I have a note. My dad says I don’t have to do P.E. if I don’t want to.” I produced the note and placed a smirk on my face. I was home free. There was no way, no way, he could argue with a note from a parent. It was a binding get out of jail free card, and I had an endless supply.
Gunny didn’t even look at my note! He paced back and forth in front of me, his expression even. Which made what happened next, completely unexpected. He had me by the back of the neck and face planted onto the mat in record time.
I gasped.
“Now you listen to me. I served six tours with your old man. I’ve seen him kill nine Daimonas in one raid without even breaking a sweat. He is one of the finest men I know, and I will not have his daughter leave my class at anything less than her full potential. Do you understand me?”
For the first time in my life, I was speechless. I didn’t know if I should try to hit him or cry. I decided to pull out the biggest card I had and throw it on the table. “I’m telling my dad!”
Gunny hoisted me up with one swift movement and placed me next to Arnold. “Tell him Wally says hi!” He turned away from me and began inspecting the troops.
I huffed, fighting back tears that threatened to form. What the hell just happened? How dare he touch me like that!
“Psst, Hollyander.”
No, no, no . . . I wanted to die. How had I missed him? I turned my head around. Freaking great! Roland Vandenberg was right behind me, smiling.
“Now, Gentlemen. As you may have ascertained, Miss Hollyander will be joining our class. I am aware that this has traditionally been an all male class, but due to special circumstances . . .” What special circumstances? “ . . . that will no longer be the case,” he continued. “You will treat her with respect and take her in as one of our own. Do. You. Understand. Me?”
“Sir, yes Sir!”
I cringed again. Did everyone have to shout? This has to be a bad dream. There is no way I'm staying here. I’m leaving. I’m going to walk out right now, and if Gunny so much as lays another hand on me, I’m going to kick him right in the—
“Hollyander!”
I jumped again, this time bringing my hand to my heart, trying to still it.
“Do you have cotton in your ears, Girl?”
“Excuse me?” No one had ever spoken to me this way.
“I just asked you a question!” He was shouting in my face again. This was so going to get old. No one is allowed in my personal space—ever!
“What?” I could feel the tension in the air: an unspoken, “he’s-going-to-kick-her-butt-again” kind of tension from the others. It was literally tangible.
Gunny folded his arms across his chest. “I asked if you’ve done any sparring before?”
“What, like fighting?”
The guys laughed. This was probably more fun than they’d had in a long time. Happy to have helped lighten the mood—Jerks! I narrowed my eyes at some of them.
“I’ve hit a few people,” I admitted with a shrug.
I thought I saw a hint of a smile on Gunny’s face. He recovered quickly, masking it with attitude. “Vandenberg!” Roland appeared instantly at the front of the class. “You’ll be pairing up with Hollyander today.”
“Sir?” Roland looked suddenly green.
“Hollyander, you’ll play defense. Now, the rest of you—”
“Excuse me, Sir, but I don’t think I can—”
“What’s the matter with you Vandenberg, afraid some girl is gonna kick your butt?”
The platoon erupted with laughter.
“Sir, no Sir! It’s just that . . .” His eyes flickered my way. “I can’t hit a girl, Sir. I can’t fight her.”
Gunny walked around Roland, his hands behind his back as he circled him. There was something intimidating about the way Gunny was staring at him. It was obvious Roland felt it too.
“Hollyander! Do you have a problem with hitting Mr. Vandenberg?”
I bit my lip. “Well that depends . . .” My voice cracked.
“On what Hollyander?” He still didn’t look at me, his eyes, heavily boring into Roland.
“On why I’m hitting him, Sir.”
Gunny's focus turned sharply to me, a look of confusion settling on his face.
This guy was freaking nuts. If I made it out of here alive, I was so going to chew my dad out royally. How could he and this guy be friends?
“Can you tell me why I transferred you into this class, Miss Hollyander?”
“I assumed to be a jerk.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn’t believe that slipped out. I was so dead.
Gunny smiled. An act that was scarier than him screaming in my face.
“Gentlemen. Can you tell Miss Hollyander why you’re in this class?”
“To become Slayers, Sir!”
Yes, this was officially a bad dream. Not only was I stuck in a gym class with a bunch of guys who shouted their answers out; I was stuck in a gym class with a bunch of delusional guys and a whacked out Marine who shouted their answers out. It just gets better and better . . .
All eyes were on me. I didn’t have to look to feel the weight of their stare. “Okay, I’m going to ask, what the heck is a Slayer?”
A low murmur broke out.
“In my office, Hollyander. The rest of you Ladies: twenty laps around the field; move!”
I watched as the “Ladies” scattered out the door and onto the field. They didn’t need to be told twice, and neither did I. I hurried into Gunny’s office–the “Semper Fi” sign on the door giving it away.
I stepped into a room that looked as if it had never experienced a woman’s touch. I glanced around at the papers littering the walls. Class schedules, announcements, and team photos were secured in random places with cheap plastic pushpins. Not at all the polished appearance one would expect from a Marine!
“Sit down, Evie.” A soft voice instructed from behind.
I turned around, not recognizing it had been Gunny speaking to me. He suddenly looked tired, groaning as he took a seat behind a metal desk. His tattered chair, which had to be a hand-me-down, squeaked under his weight. “What do you know about your old man?” he asked.
I sat and thought about his question. Apparently I didn’t know my dad at all. I’d spent my whole life thinking he was just some government diplomat . . . a peacemaker. I never dreamed he traveled the world, killing demons—I was still having a hard time wrapping my brain around that one. “Someone told me yesterday that he's a Guardian for the Mageia,” I finally answered.
Gunny looked taken aback. “He never told you he was a Slayer?”
“My dad’s a Slayer?”
“Best damn one alive!” Gunny reached across his desk and turn
ed a photo frame around for me to see. A younger version of himself; decked out in camo, stared back at me. And there, right beside him, with his arm over his shoulder, stood George Hollyander; the both of them grinning.
I couldn’t believe it. I’d never seen my dad this way. As far as I knew, my father didn’t own a piece of camouflage anything! HeeHHH was always rushing off to work in his high end suit and leather briefcase–I wasn’t even allowed to touch the thing for fear I’d get my fingerprints on it. Again I sat open mouthed. How is it that everyone knew my dad better than I did? And what in the world was a Slayer?
“I’ve looked over your school reports,” Gunny continued. “You’ve never spent one day in a Mageian school?”
“No Sir.” I sounded so weak. Where was my backbone? My usual snarky attitude was apparently still on the mat Gunny had so gently introduced me to—right next to my nerve. I sat quietly, waiting for Gunny to drop another bomb on my head.
“Ms. Leech told me about your situation.”
I had a situation? I looked up at him. He’d already had a hand up to silence me.
“For some reason, your old man has chosen to keep you in the dark. It’s not for me to question. George has a good reason for everything he does. But one thing is clear . . . he’s needed to hide you from our world; including himself in some ways.” He put his fingers to his chin, silently pondering.
What the heck was this guy talking about? My dad wasn’t hiding me from the Mageia! And why was he discussing me with Ms. Leech?
I’d known about the Mageia, I’ve done magic all my life for crap sake! My father had done magic around me my whole life. He’d never hidden that, or our world from me. How could he? Magic came naturally to me he’d said. So why had he abandoned me here now? And why didn’t he tell me the truth about what he did for a living? I slumped in my chair. None of this made any sense.
“Well whatever the reason,” Gunny’s voice broke my silent rant; “it’s now up to me to make sure you’re fit to leave. You will be fit to leave. That is a fact!”
Great, I could just imagine the horrors involved in being what Gunny deemed as “fit to leave.”
“I’m not going to apologize for being hard on you,” he continued. His words sounded harsh but I could hear softness in his voice now. “This class isn’t for the weak, Evie. I’m hard on my students because that’s what the real world demands. If I lighten up on them, lives will be lost.”
“It’s a P.E. class!”
“This is no P.E. class,” Gunny snorted. “This is a class for Slayers. Guardians in training—assassins Evie! These kids will be killing Daimonas soon. You will be killing Daimonas soon.”
I doubted that: Me killing demons from Hell? Please. And why hadn’t anyone bothered to tell me that Slayers were assassins?
“Why did you put me in this class?”
Gunny stared at me for a moment, as if considering his words. “I teach only the most dedicated individuals with the most potential—aside from a few whose parents refuse to accept the fact that their little darlings are wimps. Damn school board and their equal-opportunity mentality,” he grumbled under his breath. He gave me a small smile, but there was something more in his expression—pride. “You have the potential Evie, I can see it in your eyes. Hell, you’re just like him.”
“I’m not a . . . I don’t even know what you’re talking about?” I pushed to my feet. How could he think I was anything like my dad? I wasn’t a demon-killer. Hell, I wore heals nearly twenty-four seven!
“You’ll know soon enough,” he promised with a smile. “I haven’t had to train a girl before . . . but I won’t hold that against you,” he chuckled. “Who knows, if you manage to make a success of yourself, females might be allowed to battle. And Evie . . . that isn’t always a bad thing. Now go on, get out of here.”
I turned and walked to the door, my mind spinning. Damn! “Am I supposed to run too?” I asked, not wanting to look at him. My hands had fisted involuntarily at my sides, dreading his answer.
“Do you want to?” I could hear him grinning.
I thought about that. No I didn’t want to. I didn’t want anything to do with this guy or his class of freaking jarheads. But I couldn’t shake this feeling I had. Like maybe my dad did put me here for a reason; and if I went through the motions, as painful as they were, maybe that reason would become clear.
I huffed mentally and turned to face him; the picture of my dad and him, still smiling at me. I would not be intimidated! “Well I’m not going to have the guys think I’m being pampered because my dad’s some legend, now am I?" And with that, I felt a small fire light within me.
“Then get your butt out there, Hollyander!” The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Yes, Sir.” I wasn’t happy about any of this, but I had to try. If my father had taught me one thing, it was Hollyanders don’t give up!