It rained a lot throughout the first two and a half months, which meant that we were cold and miserable when we trained outside. Waking up around three every morning had almost made me numb from all the constant yelling that the drill sergeants were doing. Sundays were the only day that we had off, and I took the time to make sure to clean my locker, boots, and uniform.
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have made it through the long, hard days without Lulu. I had hoped that some of the guys would’ve been interested in talking to me after they saw what I had pulled off at the river, but they thought I was strange. I was alone as usual, but it was okay. I was used to it.
That little frog kept me going.
There was an advantage towards being in a barrack right in the corner of the room, on the lower bunk. The windowsill above my head was covered with dying beetles and fruit flies, which were too stupid to figure out how to get through the screen when the window was open on a hot day. I rarely had to go to outside to find Lulu anything, since she took care of that for me. I had fashioned a plastic milk container for her and placed a few twigs and leaves inside.
Running was starting to become easier. I began to practice a lot more on the track, even after I was dead inside from all the training we did throughout the week. Sometimes I would have to eat dinner later than everyone else because Sergeant Mitchell had me practice with my water attacks for an extra hour. We were in the white phase now, where around twenty of our guys had dropped out. Aaron and Burns still had to suffer from time to time in the activities I was really bad at, but for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t fucking last all the time.
They still kept calling me Mouse, though.
* * * * * *
I squinted at the recording log on the ground next to me as I knelt on one knee in a row with other guys. The sound of bullets creating holes in the targets five hundred yards in front of us across the vast grass field rang in my ears. Several officers walked around us in circles, some instructing other men near me.
The M4 Carbine in my arms felt heavy. It was supposed to weigh six pounds, but I was probably just ridiculously weak after the hundred of pushups I’ve done. The instructors said that it was lighter than the previous weapon they used before, which was the M16A2 rifle. I could hardly imagine how worse it would’ve felt to hold that thing. My target was massacred along the edges, except for the middle, which was where I wanted the bullets to go through. Shells littered the ground everywhere.
I squeezed the trigger, but it didn’t shoot. After checking the operating rod and making sure to disengage my safety catch, I tried again. Nothing happened. By now the enemy would’ve blown my head clean off my shoulders and been off on his merry way. My comrades would’ve been captured and hung, and Jova would be destroyed. I sighed at my failure.
“Private Mouse!”
The sunlight hurt my eyes as I noticed at Lieutenant Jones coming over towards me. He had just finished helping someone else three guys down. I wanted the ground to swallow me up and disappear. He examined the way I was holding the carbine and frowned.
“What’s going on here?”
“It’s not firing, sir. And even when I do manage to shoot, I can’t aim right. It gets confusing, because when I think I’m shooting right I’m actually shooting—“
Lieutenant Jones shook his head. “Private, take a closer look at what you’re doing. Think of one reason. One.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say. With a hand, he grabbed the magazine well and shook it. I felt all the blood rushing to my face as he glared at me.
“You’re out of ammo.”
With one hand, I quickly reached for a new one and pushed it up into the well, which I awkwardly struggled with until I heard that familiar clicking noise. After I pressed the bolt release, he started to yell, of course.
“Reload it the right way!”
At this point, his tone didn’t faze me. I fired two shots, hitting the edge of the target. He looked at me for a moment before readjusting my arms, making me hold them up a little further until my eye closest to the gun could see at the very far end of the barrel. He then pointed at the target and spoke in a normal tone, to my surprise.
“Before you shoot, practice on your front sight. You need to be at six ‘o’ clock, in the center of your sight picture, aligned with your target. Work with windage and elevation. And take a deep breath. Relax.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, wrapping my fingers around the trigger. This time, when I tried again, a dark bullet hole appeared right near the middle of the target. A slightly surprised expression appeared on Lieutenant Jones’ face, but he looked satisfied when he walked off.
Before I could move on to the next course, I had to take a shooting range test, firing at two, three, and five hundred meters. I failed seven practice tests before barely passing on the real one by a point. One hundred and seventy seven out of two hundred fifty. Fifty rounds only. When I got the results I wanted to cry with relief.
Mom and Lulu were both proud of me, I knew it.
* * * * * *
“What are the seven core virtues of the Red Mamba?”
I fought to keep awake during the evening lecture we had three days a week. Sergeant Mitchell paced around back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. Everyone was writing in their notepads, their pens scrawling across the pages. I stared at mine, which were covered in animals, smiley faces and a badass looking unicorn that was shooting fire from its nostrils. I continued to shade in its mane with my pencil. Lulu crawled out of my jacket pocket and hopped onto my wrist. I smiled and fed her a bug that I had killed earlier today, which she chomped down greedily.
A student in the front raised his hand. “Loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and courage.”
“Excellent,” Sergeant Mitchell replied. “It is your responsibility to carry out these morals, even during basic combat. No matter where you are or who you are with, that right there is what counts as a loyal soldier. But what is one thing that can get you killed more easily than anything else?”
“Those Khonie,” someone replied, and the class erupted in laughter. I looked up at them before raising my hand.
“Yes?” the sergeant asked as he switched to a different slide on the PowerPoint.
“The... the Khonie aren’t human, right?” I asked. I had been curious about the species, and I really wanted to learn more about them. “Are they some sort of animal or something?”
“You haven’t been paying much attention, have you? Even if you were homeschooled, you still should know the basics about them. They are subhuman; they have unpure blood filled with hereditary diseases.They are below animals, to be quite honest.”
“What kind of diseases, sir?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The class went silent for a while as Sergeant Mitchell stared at me. “They have always been against the civilian life. Genetic abnormalities are a main factor to be taken into consideration. They lack the mental capacity to do basic tasks, which is why they don’t fit into this society, since they have no useful skills. Their brain is a different shape than ours, based on previous experiments we did on one corpse. Therefore, they cannot process things that you and I understand, so they must be dealt with accordingly. They mock the civilized world’s achievements.”
“So...” I was trying to put together what he was saying. “Since they dwell outside of our society, and don’t understand how to do anything, why—“
“Look,” Sergeant Mitchell said, clearly growing more impatient with me. “They are coming into it now, harrasing our own people and hiding in the shadows. The other cities are terrified of these creatures, and they don’t have enough troops to keep them away. That’s why we step in. They are horrifying, and they are not fit to live in the same environment as we are in. To solve this problem, we must—”
“But what exactly makes them less human than us? Are they practically not human at all? Is it physical characteristics?”
Sergeant Mitchell stiffened uncomfortably. “They are scum! It’s in their biology that makes them below all forms of life on this island. They have a disgusting culture that puts Plod into shame. And it will be your job especially to rid these creatures.”
”But why?”
”We’ve waged war against them for generations.”
“But I don’t understand. If they pose a threat, doesn’t that mean they have the mental capacity to understand how to do certain things?”
”You fool! Animals attack. It’s a way of life for these savages. They are the reason for all of the poverty and violence that is going on.”
“Have you ever seen a Khonie before?”
“Yes.”
”So do they look human, or—“
“It doesn’t matter how close they resemble looking like a human,” Sergeant Mitchell snapped. “They are not, and to inherit their DNA, will also make you less human too.”
”But if they look human—“ I started to say.
“We have scientific evidence that they do not have the same physical characteristics as a human being. Both for the males and females. And their reproduction rate is disgusting, creating more of these abominations.”
“And what is the evidence, exactly?” My classmates were giving me dirty looks, and yet I didn’t understand why. I began to speak more softly. “Can you give me a specific example, so that I know what distinguishes from a human and a subhuman?”
“So you are getting smart with me, hmm? You a Khonie lover? If so, you must withdraw from the army immediately. We have no tolerance for someone who has sympathy for one of our most dangerous enemies. You keep up with this attitude with me son, we’re going to have a problem, alright? Show some respect.”
“No...no...I...”
“Are you a soldier, or a coward? We must do what is to be done to protect our cities. They are a threat!”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but lowered my gaze as everyone in the classroom stared at me. My face was burning. Sergeant Mitchell’s voice drained on as he continued with the lecture. I picked up the pen and started another mindless doodle.
* * * * * *
When it was time for our final test before the program ended, our food supply and sleep dwindled. I was usually recieved ten hours of sleep a week; now I was getting five. I started taking Lulu with me in my jacket pocket sometimes I trained. Whenever we did combat in the woods, especially on a rainy day, I made sure to create as many ice daggers that flew in the air to strike down future enemies, or caused heavy transparent spikes to rise out of the frozen earth. My comrades had a hard time getting through them because they were four to six feet tall.
In our final testing stages they made me train without my gun during an important land navigation course, under the assumption that we were under attack under enemy fire. I compressed the water as an extension of my body, so that I could easily swing through the trees with my arms and fire from a higher level. My head was hurting, but I managed to push through it, since it was getting a little bit easier day by day. Plus they started to make me carry aspirin around if the pain got worse and gave me breaks, making me switch from regular fighting to water.
We had reached a lake, which lead to the other side. I immediately jumped for cover and landed on my stomach, since there was an exposed opening and potential bullets would be raining in. My comrades ducked behind trees and bushes, covered in leaves to camaflouge themselves. I crawled in the mud, the dark green paint on my face dripping from the pouring rain.
In the distance, Sergeant Mitchell and Lieutenant Jones watched me, their faces looking stone cold in the rain.
I held my right hand out towards the water, causing it to part as I dragged myself through the grass. Everyone else started to follow suit, staying low. The sound of pretend enemy fire echoed in my ears from a nearby speaker as we stepped in deeper and deeper in the lake, before the surface closed above our heads. Soon our feet were touching the bottom, and I could make out fish swimming all around the air pocket I created as we walked across.
Everyone was silent and focused.
I popped one of the aspirin in my mouth and held both hands to the surface of the lake, causing more water to detach and float in the air. I bit my lower lip and concentrated, before closing my eyes. When we emerged from the lake, almost completely dry, everyone stopped and stared in amazement.
The entire side was littered in ice spikes, looking like a den of thorns. Their sharp edges gleamed at me. I turned and finally look back at my instructors. They had a look of pride in their face, and as my platoon members in the group started singing a chant as they took off running in the woods, both men saluted me. I saluted back quickly. We were so close. The weeks of endless training were over, and even though I had a lot of money saved at this point, all I really wanted to do was take a nap and feed Lulu.
In fifty four hours, I would be a Red Mamba.
I wrapped my fingers around my M4 carabine and followed suit. It was freezing cold and wet, and the heavy pack I carried on my back didn’t help either. I couldn’t stop shivering, and my curls, which had grown back, was plastered against my forehead as we started the nine mile march with our equipment. Lulu hopped out on my shoulder and looked up at me. I lightly touched her smooth little head with my index finger.
* * * * * * *
The crowd of happy, excited families filled the field as we finally marched in rhythm, wearing our matching uniforms and holding the red and white flag. Our graduation ceremony was pretty large, and soon we would join the other seven hundred thousand soldiers in the field. We all received our first badge of honor for just surviving the program alone. While the other soldiers met up with their loved ones and kissed their girlfriends and wives and children, I sat down underneath a nearby tree and let Lulu sit in my hands. She seemed to smile at me.
“We did it,” I said. “We are warriors now, you and me. They should’ve given you a badge too, especially after you stayed in my laundry for a week because I was procrastinating by not washing it. They should’ve paid you as well.”
”Adlai!” A heavy, booming voice made me look up. Baldwin and several other government officials were walking towards me. I slowly got to my feet. He had a smile on his face, and I noticed he was limping oddly. Had he sprained his ankle? The entire staff was there as well.
To my surprise, I went over and hugged him. I didn’t know why I did, and I hated the fact that I had missed him. It was probably because I hadn’t heard my own name in weeks. He warmly returned my embrace before handing me a wrapped gift with a bow on it.
“Here, this is for you. Congratulations! Sergeant Mitchell said that you did extremely well, being that you were the youngest one there. Your water skills are excellent, and even though you had some rough spots, you really did pull through. I’m proud of you. You will leave again after ten days to pack up and go with the platoon you trained with, so you get a breather.”
“I’m just glad I’m finally done,” I answered. “No more sergeants yelling at me or three am runs. That really sucked. How’s Mr. Karin and everyone else?”
”We all are doing fine. It hasn’t been the same without you lately. We were all concerned about you, and there would’ve been no pressure at all if you didn’t pass the program. You could always go through it again.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m good.”
Baldwin laughed. “Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“Good. Our staff has a nice treat for us. Come along.”
When we arrived back at the government building, I stuffed myself. The MREs the army had gave me were awful, and I could hardly wait to return to them when I would go back to service. I wanted to ask Baldwin more about the Khonies, but I remembered how angry Sergeant Mitchell had gotten with me. I decided not to press my luck.
For the rest of the day, Lulu and I slept like a log. Later on that night, I dug through my duffel bag and pulled out the stack of napkins I had written to Mom over the weeks and hugged them tightly. For the first time in months, my eyes were tearing up, and I felt stupid and weak. I wiped away at my face and tried to imagine what she would say to me. I tried to remember what the beach looked like, what our house looked like. What she looked like.
But I couldn’t.
I miss you so much.