“Let’s have an early lunch,” Vitt suggested to Noah, who’d trailed behind him.
“New record,” Splat said, laughing and tapping his wristband. “She only made it to eleven without demanding food.”
Despite the early hour, Noah seemed to agree with her—he tipped out five brown paper bags from a rucksack, placing them all in the middle.
“Mystery bag time!” Vitt said to Frankie and Zeke. “Good luck to you both.”
The others scrambled to grab a bag, leaving Zeke with the last one. The group opened them simultaneously to a chorus of cheers and groans. Without talking, Noah, Splat and Vitt began throwing various items of food and drink at each other to swap them. Noah came to sit beside Zeke on the bench, already chewing on some dried fruit.
“No more worrying about ration stamps, at least,” Noah said. “The food here isn’t bad. Especially the dinners.” He peeked into Zeke’s lunch bag. “You’ve got a mystery fish sandwich. Do you like fish?”
“Not really.” Zeke kept his eyes trained on a blurry rock in the distance.
Noah rummaged through his own bag and showed Zeke his sandwich. “Want to swap? I’ve got cheese.”
“No, thanks.” Abruptly, Zeke jumped up, leaving Noah to sit next to Frankie on the grass. He ate his bland mix of food while Frankie merrily chatted his ear off, energy evidently revived. He quickly learned all about the feud between her two roommates, her childhood pet rabbit and her favourite recipe for lemon drizzle cake.
“What’s your favourite cake?” she asked Zeke, who’d been mostly silent for the entire conversation.
He blinked. “We used to make these delicious peanut butter brownies when we were little. I haven’t eaten peanut butter in years,” he said, a wave of nostalgia punching him in the gut.
“I don’t think anybody has had peanut butter in years. But I’ll bring everyone back some goodies when I next visit the bakery. If it’s still there by then…” Frankie trailed off, likely wondering how long it would be before pastry chef joined the long list of obsolete jobs, under train drivers and flight attendants.
But her suggestion of returning to London made him sit upright. “Are we allowed to leave when we’re not fighting? We don’t work every day, right?” He fought to keep the alarm out of his voice.
“So, we all get roughly every seventh day as a rest day together,” Vitt said. She eyed a brown, rectangular shaped item in Noah’s hand that could possibly pass as cake. He sighed, snapped it in half and threw it to her.
“We usually get the same day of the week off for about a month before it changes. Ours is currently Fridays. But we’re not allowed to leave the Avantis boundary. We’re technically still ‘on duty’ and expected to suit up if required. So, importantly, we can go out the night before, but we can’t be so hungover we can’t shoot a gun the next day.”
“So we’re never to leave for a whole day?” Desperation crept in.
“We’re allowed one day a month off,” explained Splat, through a mouthful of food. “They’re pre-scheduled in advance and you can’t specify them. Sometimes people will swap with you, but Noah has to approve everything.”
“My sister and I… our birthday is on the fifth of December. We normally spend it together.” Zeke regretted the words instantly. Nobody was going to grant him any favours when all he’d done so far was snap at everybody and faint on the floor.
Noah flicked through the calendar on his wristband. “Nobody from Squad E is off that day. Sorry.” He sounded genuinely apologetic, causing a sudden wave of guilt within Zeke—all Noah had been so far was fair and kind, and all Zeke had been was a whiny brat. What would Zaya say if she had seen his behaviour so far?Do you actually want any friends, Zeke? Because this is a very funny way of going about it.
Frankie nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we can throw you a party.”
Zeke’s head whipped towards her at breakneck speed. “Please don’t,” he said, and the others all laughed.
“As long as there’s cake involved,” said Vitt. “Noah, if I see you feed one more crust to Wolf, I’m going to tell Doctor Herbert on you and you’ll be in trouble for starving yourself again.”
Noah ran his hands through Wolf’s scruff, and the dog leaned happily into him. “You literally just stole half my dessert.” Noah stood, stretched, and the others instantly copied him.
Despite his body’s protests, Zeke bolted to his feet, determined to embrace whatever was in store for them next.
“Right, ten more laps then,” Noah said. He only lasted a few beats before bursting out laughing—their expressions must have been quite the sight. “Just kidding.”
Zeke thanked his lucky stars that the first part of the afternoon involved lots of sitting in a dark classroom. This was much more his cup of tea. Splat and Vitt headed off elsewhere, leaving Noah to walk Frankie and Zeke through a long list of information. They sat through protocols, codes, fire drills, compound breach drills, medical check-up schedules, and disciplinary procedures. Frankie’s eyes drifted closed on more than one occasion, and Zeke covertly tried to nudge his elbow into her ribs.
Noah brought up a detailed map onto the screen. “This is London, obviously,” he said, tapping the middle of the map, an eggplant shape, shaded blue. It covered the residential districts Zeke knew well from living in various accommodations over the last few years, but it also bulged up into a large patch of the north, where the agricultural district was. Noah then tapped the area that circled the perimeter of the city area, shaded red. It was five times larger than that of the blue. “And this… this is the war zone.”
He looked over at them. What was Noah searching for with his piercing gaze? “We’re Eighth East Regiment. There are thirty-seven other army bases on the perimeter of the border.” Noah tapped along all the thick dots along the edge, where blue met red. “Our regiment handles this section of the border. About ten klicks long. Kilometres. When we’re not guarding the border, we’re sent out in the field, usually around here.” Noah swept his hand in a vague direction over the right of the map.
“What will we be doing exactly when we ‘head out’, sir?” asked Francesca. Zeke wished she hadn’t. He didn’t want to know what horrors awaited them when they left the relative safety of the compound.
Noah hesitated. “All sorts of missions. But let’s not worry about that yet.” He swiped the map off the screen at the same time as Vitt and Splat entered the room. “Come for a refresher?”
