Chapter 7 #3
“No, Commander,” the entire unit responded. A contagious smile spread throughout them. For once, the creature that always went for blood hesitated—their oneness quieting it.
“I didn’t think so.” Tristian smiled; it lit up his entire face. My stomach swooped at the sight. “I chose everyone here for your strength, your commitment, and your willingness to watch out for your teammates.”
I knew this didn’t apply to me.
“Every single one of you,” Tristian said, his eyes landing on me like he could hear my doubt. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he called out, “Tristian Hayes, Unit Seven Commander.”
“Levi Williams, Second-in-Command.”
“Patrick McMurphy, Operations and Weapons.”
“Rumi Sato, Engineer.”
“Isla Ford, Operations and Intel.”
“Ingrid Sorenson, Comm and Weapons.”
“Damien Cruz, Comm.”
Everyone watched me, waiting. I gripped the helmet tightly. “Sasha…Cadell.” I bit out the last name before I could choke on it.
“Medic,” Tristian finished for me. “Weapon check.”
Assault rifles and pistols were handed out, everyone ensuring they were safe. I holstered my pistol for the exercise and held my assault rifle awkwardly. I had shot one before, but I had never trained with one like I had a pistol.
“McMurphy, the rules for the House,” Tristian said.
Patrick lowered his helmet, his cross securely hidden beneath.
“Treat every firearm as if it’s loaded.” This wasn’t new to me.
“Keep your firearm pointed away from other people.” My father had always said, “In a safe direction.” “Keep your finger out and away from the trigger, until you’re ready to shoot.
” I swore I could hear my father’s voice.
“And be aware of not just your target but everything beyond it.”
I shook the ghost of my father away.
“Right,” Tristian said. “We’ll be using wax ammo for this round. With virtual enemies and hostages, the sky will be clear for round one. No birds.”
My brows bunched together. Isla leaned into me. “Birds are just people on the observation deck. The sky is the ceiling; it’ll be transparent. You’ll see the observation deck above the entire time. Sometimes, we turn it on so they can see you but you can’t see them. Depends on the simulation.”
“Round one, as in more than one round today?” Damien asked over Isla.
“And partners?” Ingrid asked, cutting Damien off, her arms crossed. Ingrid stared daggers at me.
If I was truly to replace Lily, I would be Ingrid’s partner. There wouldn’t be a need for a virtual enemy, whatever that was, if the two of us were paired up.
Tristian seemed to come to the same conclusion.
Rumi and Patrick had already moved, standing close together.
I realized that the closeness I had witnessed, the anticipation of one another’s moves and needs, was born from their partnership within the unit.
Patrick held her weapon as Rumi checked his straps and gear, moving without a word, a trust there I hadn’t experienced in any relationship.
“Ready, Buddy?” Isla asked, nudging Damien.
“It’s been a while,” Damien said, checking her over.
“We got through it together the first time. We can do it again,” Isla reassured him.
“You carried me through it,” Damien confessed. His joking demeanor was absent; there was an unease in him. Isla dropped the mask to her helmet as she hit something on Damien’s chest. Damien laughed, shoving Isla. There must be communication devices in the gear. Damien dropped his mask as well.
Levi glanced at me, but Tristian gestured toward Ingrid. “Williams with Sorenson. Cadell’s mine,” Tristian ordered, and my heart thumped hard. Levi raised his brow. “For this round,” Tristian added, grabbing his helmet as he walked toward me. Levi began a rundown on Ingrid, who looked unimpressed.
I tilted my head toward Tristian as he stopped before me. Fuck, I wish he had paired me with Levi. Everyone set about inspecting their partners, handing out gear. Tristian hesitated before me, a wariness to him. The cruel words I had thrown at him ate at me.
“I’m going to check you,” Tristian told me. I held my breath as his hands grabbed at buckles and straps, brushing against me every so often. I fought the shivers that wrecked me with each brush of his hands. I was pathetic. “Who did your gear?”
“Levi—I mean, Williams,” I told him, as he finished his assessment. “Don’t I need to check you?” I asked hesitantly, feeling too exposed.
“No, I’m fine,” Tristian murmured.
“Everyone gets checked, including commanders,” Levi stated, hidden behind Tristian. “Complacency breeds mediocrity,” Levi reiterated, a mocking edge to his tone.
“Fine, have at it,” Tristian stated. I lifted my hands but hesitated, unsure what to check. With his free hand, Tristian tapped the side of his chest. “Check these. They keep the plates secure.”
I grabbed the buckle, giving it a light tug.
“No, like this,” Tristian corrected. One second, his free hand was at his side; the next, it engulfed mine, calluses scraping against the back of my hand as he tugged the strap harder. “And this one,” he said, pulling my hand to the other side, repeating the action. My heart beat against my ribs.
“We aren’t using live ammo today,” Tristian said.
“You’ll understand this better by the time we do.
I’ll have Isla or Rumi run over it with you.
Usually, you would have classes and demonstrations to get acquainted with everything.
We don’t have that time. Lyssa wants you in the House now.
Just stay with me and observe for the most part. ”
I wanted to spit that I didn’t care. That I didn’t need to be coddled. I wanted to be vicious, but I just stood there, lost in the green depths of his eyes. Stay with me.
“You going to hold her hand through the exercise as well, Hayes?” Levi asked.
I yanked my hand away from his warmth. I hadn’t realized I had left it there. Tristian grabbed his helmet, putting it on quickly, the face shield concealing him before he placed mine on and voices met me.
“Second, Ford and Cruz. Then Cadell and me. The rear is Williams and Sorenson.” Tristian’s voice spoke into my helmet. Everyone arranged themselves, falling into order. Rumi and Patrick stood at the front.
The helmet was large, with a shield in the front.
It was suffocating. Tristian bumped me, handing me a gun.
I took it, my hands clammy for the first time.
The gear was suddenly too tight against my skin.
Rumi stood at the door, Patrick close to her.
Damien was next, Isla at his back. They must have been conversing among themselves based on how they moved with one another.
Tristian tapped my chest, and I glanced at his, where two buttons sat. My sweaty fingers ran over them.
“You good?” Tristian’s voice asked me from within the helmet. I nodded, even as unease made my gear tighter. “You can say no. They can’t hear you. The button on the left is for partner communication. The right is full unit.”
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Even as my heart picked up speed.
“Everything in there is fake. You won’t get hurt.
Stay at my back and watch the others. This first one is just a run-through for you.
I think Lyssa wants to shock you. Next round, we will work on corners.
Williams is behind you. No one talks in there.
If Rumi holds up her arm, you freeze. Silence is a good thing.
If she shoots, the room isn’t clear,” Tristian told me.
I nodded again. “We’re going to the whole group now. ”
Patrick tapped a screen along the wall. I buried my curiosity at the amount of technology the Force had reestablished, while other sectors had little to none.
Patrick’s voice took over the helmets, reading off the details of the mission displayed on the screen.
“Right, Mission 11202611 extract two hostages. Hostages will be in white. All others are considered enemies. All enemies are to be killed on sight. Location is a city building at night,” Patrick continued.
A young boy’s face flashed in my mind.
What are you doing out of bed, Eli?
I heard a noise. I was hungry. I know you told me to wait until morning, but I’m just so hungry.
We have to preserve our stores.
Mom would have fed me.
I pushed the memory of my little brother away. The Force seemed determined to give life to all my ghosts.
“Mission 11202611 is a go,” Patrick said into my helmet. I had missed the rest of his briefing. A hissing filled the room as the steel door before us slid open automatically to a dark room beyond. “Switching on night vision. Scout entering.”
Rumi’s tiny frame entered the room beyond, Patrick close on her tail. Tristian turned quietly, hitting something on my gear. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless whooshing drowning out the others. The shield before my eyes shifted, distorting the image.
Rumi silently moved through the room, the others following. The quiet sounds of everyone’s breaths and the occasional boot scuffing against the ground were the only sounds. It was too quiet.
Levi nudged into me, setting my feet into motion. Damien and Isla disappeared beyond. Tristian reached the threshold, his left hand reaching back, finding me briefly before disappearing.
I crossed into the dark room beyond, my pulse becoming painful. I heard Levi behind me. The steel door hissed shut, sealing the unit inside.
The first room was small, like an atrium of an office building; furniture from before the war littered the room. Art was on the walls, with chairs and a small sofa. It was dark, too dark. Were the items real?
Rumi disappeared into the next room. No one else spoke, but they all moved in dance-like movements.
I thought I understood what Tristian meant about corners.
I didn’t. I watched Isla and Damien enter the next room, almost back-to-back, maneuvering their guns in a way I had never seen.
I might have been able to hit targets with unfaltering accuracy, but this was something entirely different.
I didn’t want to be a member of the Force, but now I realized I didn’t deserve to be.
My hands grew clammy against the sleek metal of my gun. I entered the second room, but gunshots filled the air before I could even take in my surroundings. My hands shook against my will.
“Hostage in sight.” Patrick’s voice spoke into the helmets. I jumped.
Then I saw the room.
Time froze.
I froze. The enemy and hostage looked real. The holograms looked like real people—an adult man and a young boy.
Yeah, well, Mom’s gone.
A noise in the corner grabbed my attention. Terror surged through me.
Eli, RUN.
My heart slammed against the plates as cold sweat coated my entire body. They weren’t real, I reminded myself. Everything in here was fake, but my hands shook at the sight of the young boy being held hostage.
You’re going to give me your food, or I’ll kill him.
Take whatever you want, just give me my brother.
Sasha—
Undiluted fear coursed through me.
It’ll be okay, Eli. It’ll be okay. Take the food, it’s all yours. Just give me my brother.
I heard a laugh.
Then a scream.
Then a gunshot.
The room was closing in on me. The man had killed my brother, and I had killed the man. He murdered Eli because I hadn’t given him a snack before bed. Eli shouldn’t have been in the kitchen. He should have been safe in bed. I had…I had—he was—dead. I had failed him. My lungs seized. I had failed.