Chapter Two #2
Jolted out of his memories, Shane turned to see a man approaching through the gloom, hunched into an oversized hoodie, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Hey.” Grateful for the distraction, Shane greeted him heartily, the lingering echoes of Jon’s voice drifting away on the morning breeze. “Looks like we’re the only ones here.”
The man lifted his head and Shane couldn’t help but laugh. “You again. Run into you once, then start seeing you everywhere.”
“Hmph.”
Shane followed him in and let the gate clang shut behind them. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Matt.”
“I’m Shane.”
No response.
Oh-kay.
Shane studied him covertly as they waited.
Matt was several inches shorter than his own six-two, with brown hair and a square jaw, his eyes hooded by heavy brows and dark with intensity.
His skin was light, almost pale, as if he hadn’t spent much time in the sun.
Swallowed up in the huge sweatshirt Matt appeared almost slight, but when Shane had smashed into him that day, it’d been like hitting a brick wall. The dude was pure fucking muscle.
“So, Matt…you ready for this?”
Matt flicked his gaze up. “I am,” he said, a thread of steel in his voice that made something inside Shane sit up and take notice.
This guy’s a meat-eater. He wants this.
“Hey, thanks for coming out to help.” Their class leader, Noah, hurried up, and between the three of them they managed to wrestle the pool cover into submission before getting to work stringing lane dividers the length of the water.
More men started to straggle in as they finished up. A few minutes before 0500, Shane reluctantly stripped off his sweats, and clad in just his canvas swim trunks, joined the rest of his classmates huddling up in rows, bobsled fashion, like they’d been instructed to do in their class meeting.
“Wow, don’t I feel like a fuckin’ faggot,” someone said loudly as he pressed his chest against the back of the man sitting between his legs, the guy behind him doing the same to him.
“Nut to butt, dude. Gotta love it.”
“You know what I’d love? For you assholes to grow the fuck up,” someone else grated. “This ain’t high school and no one gives a shit how macho you think you are.”
Shane stared at the idiots who’d spoken first, their sneers and snickers audible. What would they say if they knew?
A long night standing watch. An impulsive whispered confession followed by a few heart-stopping beats of silence. Then, “Aww, we love ya no matter what, Hov. You’ll always be one of us, brother.”
A surge of fondness made Shane smile. “Miss you, Marines,” he breathed, resolving to call those dudes to catch up the first chance he got.
Shane glanced over to see Matt staring at him, his face inscrutable. Their eyes met just as a quiet voice from behind them said, “On your feet.”
“Feet!” the whole group shouted back as they leapt to standing. A powerfully built man wearing a long-sleeved blue T-shirt, khaki pants and boots walked around to face them. Shane bit back a groan. It was Salazar, the instructor who’d tried to kill him the day before. Great.
“Gimme a report.”
“Instructor Salazar,” Noah read off a muster board, “one hundred and two men assigned, one hundred and two men present.”
Salazar raised his voice. “Once again, gentlemen, welcome to Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training, otherwise known as BUD/S. My name is Raoul Salazar and I’ll be your introductory First Phase proctor.”
“Hooyah, Instructor Salazar!”
Salazar scanned the group of trainees. “This morning you’re gonna take the physical screening test. You’ve already passed it once, or you wouldn’t be here, but now you have to do it again. If you can’t pass it, your ass’ll be back to the fleet before breakfast. Understand?”
“Hooyah!”
“Let’s get started, guys. We have a long day ahead of us.”
Shane had no trouble with the five-hundred-meter swim or the sit-ups, but the push-ups made his palms throb with pain and opened up the abrasions he’d gotten on the rough asphalt of the grinder.
“C’mon, Hov,” Elias whispered, his clenched fist resting on the ground under Shane’s chest. “Touch my fist or the push-up don’t count, man.”
Gritting his teeth, Shane put his full weight on his hands, his gut roiling when the twenty-second mark was called and he realized he was trailing in the count.
“You can do it! Faster, Hov!”
Shane poured it on, and when the whistle blew, he’d made it with one push-up to spare.
He rolled to his back and wiped his bloody palms on his utility pants, breathing hard.
Fuck, he had to do better than this. The minimums meant passing, but doing just the minimum wouldn’t come anywhere near impressing the teams.
Get it together!
He blotted his hands on his pants while he waited his turn on the pull-up bar, but the minute he jumped to grab it, he lost his grip and crashed to the ground. Cursing, he tried again, same result.
“What’s the problem?” Salazar strode over and grabbed Shane’s right hand, raising his eyebrow at the mess. “Son, we have a medic with us at all times.” He nodded toward a pickup truck parked nearby. “Go see him.”
When Shane hesitated, Salazar said, “There’re times we want you to suck it up and push through it, but those are open wounds and bacteria runs rampant around here. Go get taped up.”
Tight-lipped, afraid he’d blown it, Shane went. The medic made quick work of cleaning the abrasions and treating them with antibiotic ointment before wrapping them tightly. When he returned to the line, Salazar approached him again.
“The culture of the SEAL teams is predatory, not gonna lie,” he said without preamble. “You probably saw some of that in the Marines.”
Shane nodded.
“If you got something to prove, prove it with performance. It always pays to be a winner.”
“Hooyah.”
“Don’t try to prove it by suffering in silence or hiding an injury. That just leads to more problems. Got it?”
“Got it, Instructor.”
The last test was a one-and-a-half-mile timed run along the beach in boots and utes.
Matt took the early lead, ahead of the pack.
It was high tide, which meant there was very little hard sand to run in.
After some trial and error, Shane found a manageable spot right on the edge of the water, but soon his legs grew leaden as the sand collected on his boots and pants, dragging at him.
Still, he pushed on, surprised to find himself steadily gaining on Matt, his longer legs giving him the advantage. As he drew closer, Matt glanced over his shoulder, and while he didn’t speak, Shane could see the expression on his face: Oh, hell no.
The dude had been the top finisher all fucking day long, and suddenly Shane wanted nothing more than to take this from him.
“That’s all I want, asshole,” Shane gasped out. “For you to eat my goddamned dust.”
With a roar, Matt poured it on, but as they neared the finish, Shane managed to catch him and they crossed the finish line neck and neck.
“It pays to be a winner!” Salazar pointed at Shane. “Have a seat and rest.”
“What?” Matt’s voice throbbed with fury. “That was a tie, at the very least!”
Shane bit back a grin as Salazar got in Matt’s face. Matt didn’t give an inch. Yep, this guy was a meat-eater for sure.
“Clearly Hovland passed you at the end,” Salazar ground out. “And don’t you ever fuckin’ argue with me again. This is your one warning. Get your ass wet and sandy. Now.”
“Hooyah!”
The look of dislike Matt flicked him should have frozen Shane in his tracks, but Shane just rolled his eyes. Arrogant little pissants like Matt hadn’t fazed him in Marine recruit training and they sure as hell wouldn’t faze him here.
“Your reputation in the teams starts here, people,” Salazar shouted as men rolled around in the sand at his feet.
“This is a small community, and we’re all watching.
We wanna know who’s gonna fight through the pain and cold water.
We wanna know who wants it so bad, he’d rather die than quit.
Whether you make it or not isn’t up to me, or any of the other instructors… it’s up to you.”
“Hooyah!”
“I saw who went the extra mile this morning, who crawled out of his comfy bed to help your class leader. Everyone, on your feet!”
When they were all upright, Salazar pointed to Matt. “How do you say your name?”
“Nye-tick, Instructor.”
“That’s a fuckin’ alphabet soup of a name. In fact, I ain’t even gonna try to remember that. I’m just gonna call you Alphabet Soup. You got a problem with that, Alphabet Soup?”
“No, Chief. It’s not like anyone’s ever made fun of my name before.”
Matt’s voice was quiet, and if Salazar heard the sarcastic inflection to it, he decided not to show it, instead seeming very pleased with himself as he turned to Shane.
“You two showed good teamwork and initiative this morning, and I like that, so now you’re swim buddies. Got it? During training you don’t go anywhere without the other, not even a trip to the head.”
He paired everyone else off, promising dire consequences for anyone who went anywhere without their buddy.
Despite his hunger and exhaustion, Shane wanted to laugh at the mutinous look on Matt’s face, wondering why the dude hated him so much, in the next instant deciding he didn’t care.
His competitive nature had surged to the forefront just now, giving him a much-needed boost, and if he had to use Matt’s dislike of him in order to succeed, well…
As they stared at each other, Shane could tell the exact same thought was going through Matt’s mind, too.
Bring it.