I yawned as I stepped on the track field. It's not the usual track field, you know, because it is also where the warplanes do the landing and takeoff. I think this is what they call airstrip. It is pretty spacious. Five o clock in the morning and the voice of Sergeant Paris woke us all. My bunkmates, who I hadn't asked for names yet, stood in front of me, barely standing on their own feet.
The five hundred kids assembled, half asleep on the cemented floor. They stood like zombies and even I, myself, am a little drowsy. I hardly had any sleep at all. I tried my best not to show it. Before us, all stood the scariest soldier in the area. He's probably more than six feet tall, and he looked like he could crush your skull with his bare hands. He's a mountain. And his muscles looked really formidable.
I looked around and found Sergeant Paris running on the field carrying his gear. I remembered what he said before about running for a while. This was it, the punishment for the prank. How long had he been running? Naah, who cares?
"Good morning," said the soldier in front. Even his voice sounds terrifying. I swear I heard a chorus of gulps right now. Everyone straightened up and answered, a friendly good morning, sir. "I am Private Diaz. And I am one of your instructors."
"Let's start the day by running, shall we?" he said and continued. "From this day on, you will wake up five o clock in the morning to take a jog. This is cardio, and as your fitness mentor, I'd be the one responsible for everyone's built and health."
"First, everyone should start stretching and warming up."
And we did. After a couple of minutes, the drowsiness was long gone.
He's like a gym instructor.
"We shall start with 5 laps around the field," he said. "You shall finish by seven for breakfast," he said and took the whistle from his pocket. I looked around and nervously cleared my throat.
"After every lap, pass by that booth and have your heart rate recorded," Private Diaz shouted after us as we dashed off.
I considered my injured ankle for a while, giving it just enough force not to sting too much. Yesterday, I was given first aid. I met this uniformed nurse named Maggie and the doctor, Susan. They injected me with something, I thought it was just some kind of pain killer, but I was wrong. Overnight, my ankle healed.
Five laps in two hours?! You've gotta be kidding me!
And here I thought I get a free pair of sneakers out of the goodness of their hearts. To think I'd be running again tomorrow!
I saw Sergeant Paris catching up from behind us. When I managed to get a closer look at him, I noticed how sweaty and pale he looked. I ran side by side with him, uncertain whether to start a conversation. I'm going to get a badge, else I die trying.
"Sergeant," I said and saluted while running. He did the same.
"What is it?" he asked, looking like he's gonna puke soon.
"How long is one lap around the field?" I asked casually.
"Seven kilometers," he said.
For the love of Yolly. Seven freaking kilometers. There's no way anyone can finish this.
"Uh, you look like you're about to pass out, Sergeant," I said and took a gulp.
"I need to finish my thirty lap run or else I'd be suspended," he said, panting.
"Thirty?!" I asked. "No way!"
"Look, kid," he said and looked up with his half-opened eyes. I bet he can barely see. "I'm on my 25th lap already. I'd probably finish running the same as you."
"Uh, yes?" I said uncertainly what to say.
Since when had he started running?
"Promise me that if you notice me falling, you'd punch me on the face and make sure to summon me back, "he said. "This gear is pretty heavy, you know. It's killing me."
"I don't think I can do it, but I'll try," I told him. Looking at him, pushing himself to his limits, I came to realize that this place was more severe than I thought. My respect for him returned. He's scared of being suspended than dying of fatigue. But still, this guy should know how to sort out his priorities.
"Thanks, kid," he said.
"Hey, I heard your conversation," someone called from behind, and when I looked, a boy grinned at me. "My name's Loki. I'd like to help you with him."
He's grinning, and instinct says he's up to no good. It's like his aura is screaming 'playtime.' I don't really know why I'm actually arriving at this kind of conclusion. I shrugged the thought away.
"I don't think there's something you can----"
"Oh com'on," he said and pouted. "I'd like the idea of punching him, you know. I mean, he's a sergeant. He ranks next to the Lieutenant. It's not every day someone could get an offer like this."
"I don't like how you sound," I told him and turned away. I don't want to talk anymore. I'm saving every ounce of energy for this exercise.
One lap, and I am dying. I looked around the field and saw a couple of kids battling it out away from the rest. They looked like they were racing when all along this was supposed to be a harmless morning jog.
I'm not fit enough for this. I skipped PE most of the time at school. My stamina is feeble, but I can't just quit. I need my badge. The thought of failing had my blood boiling in motivation.
"I don't know which is better," Loki spoke again. "Waiting for the sergeant to fall or running with them."
I turned to face him. Odd. He doesn't look as tired as I am. He's sweating, but his breathing is fine.
Another lap passed, and I was about to pass out. Two laps, and I think my soul's trying to leave my body. The other kids had already finished their third lap. I ended having my blood pressure checked and grabbed myself a bottle of water. I glanced at the field and realized I was one of the slowest. I belong to the cluster placed last I turned to Loki and frowned. He doesn't look as tired as me.
Weird.
The kids who were taking this jog a few notches higher passed us.
"Hey!" Loki called. "Ace!"
I was surprised to see Clive turn his head and look at him. So he's Ace now. And was even surprised that he's one of those kids who're in the frontline.
"What?" he asked. He hasn't noticed me yet.
"Why are you competing against those kids?" he asked. "You're not picking a fight, are ye?"
"It's none of your business," he answered, and Loki chuckled.
"By the way, look what I got," he said and pointed at the Sergeant, who's running merely out of fighting spirit, and me and is currently oblivious of his surroundings.
Clive's eyes widened when he saw me. His gaze flickered down, and he observed my foot. I thought worry flashed over his eyes, but it disappeared, and he snorted.
You are back to being a jerk again, huh.
Ignore him, Selena. Just think of him as a friend from the past. He's Selena's friend then, not Meow's.
"I get to punch the Sergeant when he passes out," Loki elbowed Clive. I mean Ace.
Ace didn't speak and left Loki hanging.
"He's sour, really," Loki said and looked at me smiling. "That's Ace. We're neighbor bunkmates. He beat down someone last night."
"Who?" I asked. "Why?"
"I heard from my bunkmate that he got pissed off when the other kid's luggage blocked his path. He's pretty hot-tempered."
He's not ... Well, slightly, though. He did grab my hair in the helicopter.
"He looks like a very disturbed kid to me," I told Loki and smiled.
"Hey," he said, frowning. "You looked like the girl who arrived with him."
Wow. He actually noticed that. Maybe arriving with the Lieutenant gives.
"Yeah," I told him. "But we're not friends. Like I said, he's very disturbed."
Loki laughed and waved a hand at someone who turned out to be Ace. He ignored him.
We talked some more about the facilities we've seen so far. I didn't notice that I was actually in my fourth lap until Sergeant Paris, who's running beside me, fell.
One second, Loki's beside me. The next, he's standing in front of the Sergeant in a boxing stance.
"W-Wait---" Sergeant Paris's eyes widened, but because he was too tired to dodge, he took a direct hit.
I watched him fall back and fall on the ground. I looked down.
Looks like the punch didn't summon him back. It definitely knocked him out.
"Yes! Yes!" Loki's yells of triumph echoed throughout. "I got to punch the Sergeant. I got to punch the Sergeant!" He chanted and, even shaking his arse, wriggling like a worm under the influence of salt.
A couple of seconds later, the Sergeant's eyes flung open. He silently stood up and grabbed Loki from behind. He was so busy with his victory dance he failed to notice the Sergeant.
"You little twerp!" he hissed. He lifted Loki up in the air.
"Aah! Aah!" Loki struggled, but the Sergeant was grinning, enjoying his little display of strength. "Put me down!"
"Sergeant Paris!" our Physical fitness teacher, Private Diaz, hurried towards us. He halted and saluted before inquiring about the situation at hand.
"Put this kid down the cellars," the Sergeant said and threw Loki before the private's feet. "Make him squat for three hours. If he fails to finish, don't let him out. And no food."
"Yes, sir!" the Private answered. Although Private Diaz is a lot bigger than Sergeant Paris, he saluted and lifted Loki by his elbow.
"That was unfair," I told the Sergeant when everyone had continued running. "You asked me to punch you."
"It was you I asked, not him," the Sergeant said. "I know your strength and speed."
I snorted and shook my head. "You know I wouldn't be able to knock you out. But then Loki is a mystery. Coward."
He shooed me away. He continued running. "Shut up, kid."
----
Two hours went by, and as expected, I didn't get to finish the activity. Four laps and I had already stumbled down, curling like a worm. I quit. I don't want to die yet. My badge…
The only one who finished the activity with flying colors was Ace.
I followed him with my eyes. He looked like any minute from now, he was going to collapse, but he didn't. He drank a bottle of water and sat down on the floor.
Everyone was looking at him, unable to fathom how he managed to finish the whole course.
"... that's the one who got a detention after punching a kid yesterday."
"... he's strong."
"... scary too."
"... I heard Loki got himself in detention a while ago."
"... yeah, I saw him knock the Sergeant out."
"...he did? Wow."
"...Ace and Loki look like trouble."
"...we shouldn't get acquainted with them. They spell trouble."
"... they're cool kids, though."
And I listened to the conversations swarming around me. I made a mental note not to hang out with them. Not that they'd want me to. I just don't want to have an even more complicated life than this inside this place.
I stood up and left the field. I head straight to the canteen. And I held my breath not because it was bigger than I imagined but because it stinks. It stinks of sweat and earth.
I quickly grabbed my tray and fell in line behind a beefy kid who looked really excited to eat.
"Hey," someone called behind me. I didn't look at him. I know who it was.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"How's your foot?" Ace asked, and I shrugged.
"It's none of your business," I told him, and I literally heard him growl. He pushed me aside and then the beefy kid in front of me.
"I got here first!" said the big kid. "Go away!" he tried pushing Ace away, but the beefy kid cowered and took a step back when he realized who he was.
"Shut up, fatso," Ace said and ignored him. He started picking himself some food on the counter.
I tsked at him. I didn't help the fat kid. He doesn't seem to be interested in food now, so I went to get my own food and followed Ace's trail.
I sat down on one of the empty tables. I ate.
The only piece of food I enjoyed was the slice of chocolate cake. It was so good I wanted more. I didn't know the camp allows cakes inside their vicinity. I feel energized and rested now. I went back to my bunk and took a shower in the girl's shower room.
When I got there, every stall was occupied. I stood there waiting for one of them to finish. I heard some of their conversations, and I kind of feel like I'm invading their privacy. And eavesdropping was never a hobby. Well…
"... I saw Ace bully another kid at the canteen a while ago," said a soft voice. "He's so mean."
"... He did?" Was he caught?"
"...Naah. Most of the soldiers ignored it."
"... What's his problem anyway?"
"... who knows?"
I stood there listening until one of the girls left a cubicle. I slid in and took a bath.
Aaah. Heaven.
By the time I got back to the bunk, it was already 8:30am. I have thirty minutes left to get to my morning class.
Let's see. I have Flexibility next. Sounds excruciating. I went to the building next to the Lieutenants main office.
It says that I need to go to training hall number three on the piece of paper I'm holding. And that's on the fourth floor. I took a step-up up the staircase and winced when I felt my leg muscles contract. I looked up and saw the steps I needed to conquer before I got there.
I took one step at a time, ignoring the pain and the slips.
By the time I arrived, I had sawed my classmates sitting on the floor listening to a female soldier in front of them. It looks like I'm late. I hate being late.
"You must be that kid who doesn't know how to use an elevator," she said, bemused. My classmates laughed.
"There's an elevator?" I asked quietly.
How stupid can I get?
I noticed that we're fewer than before. There are probably just fifty kids around. Loki waved a hand at me, grinning like he's meeting an old friend in an airport. I saw Ace sneering at me sitting next to Loki.
"Over here!" Loki called. Even though he sounded inviting, I ignored him. I don't want to be in his circle of friends. I sat down away from them.
Damn. I need some pain killer. My legs are killing me.
"Now that our friend here has arrived, let's start the lesson," she said and continued. "I am Private Doughty, and I am your Flexibility instructor."
She smiled when she saw the pained expressions on her student's faces.
"I watched your morning jog, and I am a bit worried 'cause a five-lap run around the field is quite extreme for kids your age. But since I am pretty sure that Private Diaz didn't explain the purpose of the activity to you, I will take the honor of telling you now.
"The ultimate military physical fitness program will incorporate all aspects of physical training. After an initial warm-up, the overall workout will include exercises to develop and/ or maintain Cardiovascular Fitness, Flexibility, and lastly, Muscular Fitness. Private Diaz's early activity was to measure your maximum training heart rate and see that you do not over-exert yourself. Some of you were asked to retire amid a run simply because you are abusing your heart rate limit. You only have a 70% to 90% range of your MAX HR to weigh. This is your target training intensity zone, or your heart rate range should be while working out. Your morning training also gave us, your mentors, ample information about who is already up to more intensive training. And milder for the not-so-fit.
"Private Diaz will see to it that your Cardiovascular Fitness will be taken cared of while I am assigned to supervise your Flexibility Training."
I didn't actually get all she said, but I think I've digested enough to cipher through the jargon.
There's nothing around but a floor fully covered with a training mat.
"Proper use of stretching increases flexibility and provides you with improved performance, reduced potential injuries, reduced muscle soreness, decreased risk and severity of low back pain, increased agility, and it also increases the blood flow through your joints.
"Proper physical conditioning is necessary for successful mission performance. And your Flexibility will prove an important part in it."
"What missions?" asked a kid in front.
"Search and rescue, for example," she told everyone and looked around. "And missions even more dangerous like going to enemy territory to scout and spy."
Whispers.
Spying is indeed dangerous. Just thinking about being killed in action. Wicked.
"Also, there are assassinations," she added. "I should warn you now that you will most likely receive horrid missions like assassinating people under the higher ups' orders. And for someone who the country considers a threat, bear in mind that he/she is powerful and influential. And they will be protected by strong individuals. You will fight these people and may end up dead."
"The death penalty is considered taboo in this country," the girl in front of me said.
"Not for long," said Private Doughty. "Our new president is personally dealing with it. He wants it back, and it'll take just a matter of time to get what he wants."
Silence.
"Who's up for some stretching?" asked Private Doughty, and every single one of us stood up.
Private Loughty trots out a remote and presses some buttons. Moments later, the ceiling opened, and a square table descended. I saw jump ropes on it.
"Take one each and disperse."
We did what we were asked to do and looked at my jump rope. There's a small screen in the handle.
"Let's do a hundred jumps as a warm-up," she told us. "After that, we will do some Dynamic and Static stretching."
I started a hundred jumps for warm-up. To be honest, I find the warm-up pathetic. We just finished running the field a while ago, but we're still being asked to do warm-ups. And like I anticipated, the jump rope exercise was excruciating. My knee gave at the moment I took the first jump. And like me, some of the kids stumbled down.
Only Loki and Ace looked unaffected. Or so I thought.
They looked like they were dying inside. And from what I see, they are competing against each other. Competition makes you stronger, indeed.
I watched for a while and shook my head. Talk about going extreme.
The badge. The license to kill.
I did the jump rope and finished accordingly. Then we were asked to do the instructions on the walls. Everyone started making bizarre stretching moves like neck rolls, raising both arms in the air simultaneously, and bending our backs. The list went on.
When we finished, my whole body was aching. I could barely feel my leg ache because the pain was now thoroughly distributed throughout my body.
It's like I've been hit by a car and came rolling onto the pavement. I am battered all over. Just when I thought the torture was done, Private Loughty clapped his hands and asked us to find ourselves a partner.
I looked around and met Ace's gaze. I ignored him, and he did the same.
"Hi," said a girl beside me. "Uh, I'm Minnie. The mouse? You know her?" she asked.
I laughed mentally. Looks like the Cat found a mouse partner.
"I'm Meow," I told her, and she grinned. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna chase you away."
And we shook hands. The instructions on the wall disappeared, and a whole new set of instructions appeared.
Now, scanning the screen on the wall, I cleared my throat nervously.
I need to learn how to split and bend my back to the floor. The partners aren't there to help. We partnered up simply because each of us will bestow the necessary pain on each other. I sat down and spread my legs. She grinned apologetically and reached for my hand. And as he sat down and held my legs in place with the use of her feet, she pulled my hands forward, and I felt my legs getting stretched. I screamed.