Recruit (Jack Forge, Fleet Marine Book 1) Page 3

  THE EXTRA GRAVITY on the small moon started to take its toll. Jack saw Torent up ahead. He looked to be struggling too. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack saw him put his head down and put in an effort to run harder when he saw Jack was catching him.

  Another few minutes and Jack was coming level with Torent. Jack kept his eyes on the path ahead. The next obstacle was only a few strides ahead. He pulled away from Torent easily and approached the obstacle.

  Barbed wire was strung across the path, leaving a small gap underneath. The ground was littered with sharp rock fragments the size of Jack’s fist. A sign on either side of the path warned of live gunfire. Jack saw the automatic gun battery on one side of the obstacle. Jack dropped to the ground and began crawling.

  The barbed wire was low but gave Jack enough room. He picked his way around the sharp rocks, taking care not to hurt his arms as he crawled along. This was not as tough as it first looked. And then the gunfire started.

  The guns fired a two-second burst. The bullets tore through the air and made a strange fizzing sound as the air around the bullets boiled. The bullets thumped into the dirt mound on the opposite side. Jack stopped crawling and pressed himself to the ground. He felt trapped by the wire above him. Running was one thing, firing a rifle was exciting, but this? Being shot at with rapid fire automatic weapons was terrifying. And then the whole experience started to feel like a horrible dream. He should be back in university. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. This had been a huge mistake. Just on the point of getting to his feet and declaring the whole thing a huge mistake, another burst of gunfire erupted.

  Torent scurried past Jack. The gun spat out one short burst after another and while Jack pressed himself closer to the ground, trying desperately to get away from the terrifying sounds of bullets above him. Then he saw Torent look back as he got to the other side of the wire.

  Seeing the smirk on Torent’s face as he looked back through the wire spurred Jack into action. He started moving again and picked his way gingerly through the rocks and flinched at every crack from the huge automated weapon. Other recruits were making it to the wire and Jack heard their voices ranging from worry to fear, and then he heard the shouts from Lieutenant Crippin and the zaps from Sergeant Hacker’s tazer. The sounds of worry and fear turned to yelps of pain and cries of distress as the recruits were forced to move forward.

  Jack reached the end of the wire with cuts on his hands and a huge gash on his elbow where he’d caught the sharp point of a rock. Torent was running but struggling. Jack knew he could catch him.

  Jack judged the distance to Torent and paced himself. And then further up ahead, Jack saw Crippin sitting on her buggy. It looked like a finish line. Jack had been running and crawling and dodging bullets for several hours. He was sure it was time for a break. Crippin was pushing them all to breaking point, but Jack was sure she didn’t want to actually break them. Recruits were not easy to find.

  Jack spotted the small pile of silver ration bars and water cooler on a trailer hooked up to Crippin’s buggy. It was either a cruel joke or it was time for a rest. Jack decided to be optimistic. He decided Crippin was going to let them rest. But before he could rest, he had to beat Torent to the finish.

  Jack put his head down and gave it everything. No point leaving anything out on the course when he could burn all his reserve and beat Torent. Jack would show that thief. Jack was going to steal first place from him.

  Jack’s legs burned. They wobbled. He pressed on. He kept upright by strength of will. He would win. He looked up to check his progress. Torent had slowed to a walk but was still moving forward, and he was still ahead. Jack put his head down and ran. He would pass Torent with a hundred meters to spare.

  Jack closed in on Torent and found an extra burst of energy with the joy of beating the thief. He turned and looked back at Torent just in time to see Torent stick his foot out. Torent’s foot tapped Jack’s ankle. It was the slightest of touches, but it was enough to unbalance him.

  Jack’s fell forward, sprawling over the sharp rock fragments. He cut his hands, knees, face. His head spun, and blood burst out of his nose and ran into his mouth. He watched Torent run off toward Lieutenant Crippin. Jack tasted blood as he climbed to his hands and knees. The dark sand on the ground felt cold. He felt a hot flush and dizziness.

  The horizon and the darkness of space beyond the surface of the small moon wobbled. Jack looked up and saw Torent reach Crippin and the pile of ration bars. And then behind, he heard the rumble of footsteps as the rest of the recruits came running.

  CHAPTER 6

  Jack sat on his bunk and treated his many cuts. A small package of medical supplies had been thrown on each bunk. Jack picked through the small collection of bandages to find the best fit for the largest of his cuts. He readied the bandage and then splashed on some of the antiseptic wash.

  “You were really good out there today.”

  Jack looked over to Bill Harts, who was lying on the bunk next to Jack.

  Jack nodded. “Thanks,” he replied.

  “I can’t believe Cripps made him squad leader.”

  Jack peeled the back off a bandage and placed it over one of his cuts. Torent was sitting on the other side of the bunkhouse, showing off his new badge and enjoying the attention from the recruits who were trying to ally themselves to the new squad leader.

  Jack looked at Torent. It was not as though Jack had wanted the position of squad leader, but it seemed unfair of Crippin, stupid and shortsighted even, to select Torent. She had based her decision on the results of the day’s exercise. Torent had beaten Jack to the finish, but unfairly. He had scored higher in target practice, but again, only because he had caused Jack to miss.

  And Jack had helped Bill Harts on the shooting range. Crippin had said he should help the others in the team; it had been her first lesson to him. Torrent had cheated his way to the head of the group. Jack watched him preening and showing off his little badge, enjoying the attention.

  Torent caught Jack’s eye. He smirked at Jack, a familiar expression now, and one that sent Jack into thoughts of violence and revenge. He imagined how he would hurt that damn thief. He was undeserving of the position. Jack knew he was a better choice. He was fitter, faster, and he had an education. He was a more suitable choice and he knew it. Crippin must be an idiot if she couldn’t see it too.

  “Did he trip you right in front of Cripps?”

  Jack grunted and gave the slightest nod.

  “She should have had Hacker taze him, not give him that badge.”

  “He can keep it,” Jack said. He gathered up the medical supplies and put them back into the small package. He guessed he would need to use this again. He was going to put it out of sight. His footlocker was the obvious place for it, but it was also the most obvious place for thieves to look. He could hide the medical kit with his watch.

  Jack glanced around as casually as he could, making sure no one was watching him. He slipped his hand under the threadbare sheet and his fingers searched for the small opening. He pressed his fingers inside and felt for his watch.

  Panic suddenly swelled inside him. Jack felt the hot, prickly heat of fear. The watch was gone. He forgot furtive action and looked at the small hole in his mattress. He tore at it with both hands, the bandages peeling away as he searched inside for his watch. His watch. He reached deeper inside feeling for the familiar metal casing. He couldn’t lose his watch.

  Jack climbed off his bunk and looked at the small tear. He looked inside.

  “What you doing?” Harts asked casually.

  Jack felt all over the top of his mattress, pressing his fingers into the thin padding, feeling for his watch.

  His watch. He had to find his watch. How could it be gone? Had Crippin come and searched the bunkhouse while they were out training? She had not been present for the whole day. It had been Sergeant Hacker who had kept the recruits on course with only his tazer and the threat of its sting to motivate
them all.

  His watch. It was gone. Taken. Stolen. Jack looked around the bunkhouse at all the unfamiliar faces, people he had been thrown in with, people he had only just met, people he could not trust. People he did not like.

  “Is something missing?” Harts asked. “I saw Torent looking at your mattress. Right there. That corner.”

  Jack fixed Harts with a fierce look. “When?” Jack asked.

  Harts backed up slightly under Jack’s harsh stare. “When you were in the bathroom, just after we got back.”

  Jack looked over at Torent. He was sitting back on his bunk, picking at a small wound on his hand.

  “Then I saw him doing something with the corner of his mattress. I thought he was checking to see who had the most comfortable bunk. He checked them all.”

  Jack walked across the bunkhouse and straight over to Torent. The thief barely looked up.

  “What do you want?” Torent said, his voice as cold as the bunkhouse floor.

  Jack grabbed the corner of Torent’s mattress and felt for his watch or a tear in the stitching.

  “Hey, get the krav out of here.” Torent stood up and squared off against Jack.

  Jack stepped back. There was no watch or any cut in the mattress. He looked back toward Harts, who was watching with a worried expression. Harts made the slightest gesture and indicated that Jack should check the other side.

  Torent’s allies were getting off their bunks and moving slowly toward Torent and Jack, drawn by the noise and the distraction.

  Jack moved quickly to the other side of the bunk and grabbed the corner, feeling again for a hole.

  “Get your kraving little claws off my bunk, Forge.” Torent followed Jack and grabbed him by the collar.

  Jack felt his watch. He felt the cold silver on his fingertips. He wasn’t going to let Torent take it from him. Jack jerked away from Torent’s grip. He dug his fingers into the mattress and pulled the watch free. He turned and faced up to Torent, the watch held up accusingly.

  “You touch anything of mine again...” Jack said.

  “I didn’t put that there,” Torent replied, his familiar smirk plastered over his face.

  “You are a thief, a kraving thief.” Jack held up the watch again.

  Torent laughed a cold, humorless laugh. “I didn’t take that crappy piece of junk.”

  “You stole my rations. You stole my watch. You stole the lead today.”

  Torent’s face turned dark and hard. He stepped forward and closed in on Jack. “If I want your damn watch, I will take it. If I want your food, I will take it. If I want your blood, I will take it.” Torent shoved Jack.

  “You keep out of my stuff,” Jack said with as much venom as he could muster.

  “Get the krav out of my face, Forge.” Torent sat on his bunk.

  Jack walked back to his bunk. He knew he needed to find somewhere else for his watch. He would have to keep it on him and just take care not to bash it. He picked up the small medical supply pack and started to work it into a protective case for his watch. He felt the adrenaline in his body, the sweat on his face, and his heavy breathing. His hands were shaking as he tried to secure his watch in a protective packet. He glanced over at Torent. The thief was resting easy on his bunk, his hands behind his head. He seemed totally unaffected by the accusation and the altercation.

  Only a thief could be so calm, Jack though.

  Jack tucked the wrapped watch into the pocket of his pants. Then the double-door at the end of the bunkhouse burst open. Sergeant Hacker came walking down the aisle between the bunks. He pushed the few recruits who were standing toward their bunks with one hand while the tazer burned in the other. They got the message. It was time for lights out.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Listen up, hayseeds.” Crippin paced in front of the recruits on the parade ground. “Today, we run the course proper.”

  Jack ached from the previous day’s exercise. His cuts stung and his legs were stiff. He’d run the course again and this time, Torent would be left in his dust.

  “We played nice yesterday. Today, you are going to work hard. Fall too far behind and you will be tazed. Miss your target on the rifle range and you will be tazed. And if you are standing here in the next five seconds, you will be tazed. Do you get me, hayseeds?”

  Jack heard the recruits shouting, “sir, yes, sir,” but he was already running toward the hill.

  “What are you waiting for, hayseeds?”

  The hill was easy. Jack looked back to measure his lead. He was on the top before his nearest rival was halfway. Torent was jogging along with a group of his new cronies.

  Jack looked down to the course. The small hills with the forts on top and the familiar paths that he’d run and crawled over the day before. The sound of panting breath and heavy foot falls behind told Jack that the rest of the recruits closing in. Jack ran down hill. He could run as easily downhill as he could on the flat. He knew he wasn’t strong, but he had balance and stamina. He could keep this up all day. He was sure Torent would struggle after a time. The thief might be good at crawling through tight spaces, probably practice from housebreaking, and he might have some practice at running, probably from the police, but Torent was a kravin’ gutter chit. Jack knew Torent could never match him.

  The first obstacle was the wall and Jack was able to leap and grab the top. He scrambled and struggled and made the top of the wall. The thief would probably be better at shinning up walls, all part of the housebreaker’s craft, but Jack was still ahead of him. Jack turned to lower himself down the other side.

  Jack ran between the hills, following the path that thousands of recruits had run before him. The next obstacle was a series of raised beams surrounded by thick mud. He ran across the beams, leaping from one to another, and finally jumped to the firm ground on the other side. A quick glance back and he saw Torent still running with his group.

  Jack climbed and ran, and crawled and ran, and every now and then glanced back. He was pulling away from Torent. Today, he was going to stay ahead.

  The rifle range was next and Jack prepared his weapon quickly. He took his time to breathe and aim, but he only needed to hit his target, a bull was not essential. Jack fired his rounds quickly and scored all hits and all bulls. He was a competent and confident shot. He didn’t need to think about it. He let himself admire his marksmanship for a few moments before setting off at a jog for the next obstacle.

  The next path was clear and Jack ran on. He knew the military had drafted dozens of students who had dropped a grade in the last few months. He knew they had all been brought to one of these training bases. This one was completely empty. The only people he had seen in the last few days were Crippin, Hacker, and those who had arrived on the transport ship with him. Where was everyone else? There must be other training bases in the system, Jack thought. This was a small moon and he could probably run around it in a day or two, but there could be another base here that they just hadn’t seen.

  Jack spotted the next obstacle, a series of hanging ropes that Jack had to hang from and work his way over the dark, sticky mud underneath. Some ropes hung vertically and some horizontally. He grabbed hold of the first and started off. The vertical ropes were the hardest to hold and move between. The horizontal ropes were easier. Jack hung from one, looking at the next.

  Reaching out for the next rope, Jack heard recruits reaching the obstacle. He turned, hoping it wasn’t Torent. It was two other recruits, part of Torent’s little gang. One was skinny and fast, the other ugly and brutish. The burning in Jack’s arms threatened to overwhelm him. He looked down at the sticky mess below. There was no way he was going to let himself drop into that. He looked to the next rope. He had no time to spare.

  The sounds of the rest of the squad running toward the rope obstacle caught Jack’s ear. Torent was surely still in the pack. Jack looked at the next rope and grabbed it. Arms burning and lungs gasping, Jack cleared the ropes. Looking back, he saw that the skinny recruit and the ugly recruit
were catching up. Setting off at a fast pace, Jack ran off along the next empty path.

  It was a short run. Jack knew he was starting to slow. He glanced back and saw that the two recruits on his tail had almost caught him. Jack could see they were almost exhausted. He could pull away from them over the next few hundred meters, they didn’t look to have the strength to keep up their pace to the end of the day. They would collapse any minute and get tazed by Hacker.

  The skinny recruit ran alongside Jack and grabbed him around the shoulders, pulling him to the ground.

  “What the krav?” Jack shouted. “Get off me.”

  The skinny recruit said nothing, just held Jack tightly. Then the ugly recruit came and dropped a knee on Jack’s back.

  “Got you,” the ugly one said and twisted his knee in Jack’s back. “Go and tell Squad Leader we got him.”

  “No kravin’ way,” said the skinny one. “I ain’t got another squirt of energy in me.”

  Jack realized what was happening. Torent had sent his cronies ahead to stop him. Now Torent could take the lead and cruise to a winning finish again.

  Jack heaved suddenly and broke out of the hold. But before he could get to his feet, the recruit with the knee on his back grabbed Jack’s collar.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Jack struggled to get away, but the two held him down.

  Another recruit came running around the corner. She was red-faced and breathing hard, but she had enough energy to smile. She slowed to a jogging pace and went on by.

  “Not too fast,” the ugly recruit called out. “Squad Leader wants the win.”

  The girl stopped. She put her hands on her knees and breathed heavily, sweat dripping from her face onto the ground next to Jack.

  “No,” she said. “He just wants him to come last.” She smiled and then winked at Jack before taking off at a jog toward the next obstacle.