Gasps roll through the cadets and heads start turning, looking desperately for their preformed teams.
Adams grins at the panic that arises in the recruits and drawls, “As a whole, you will have twenty-four hours to get the number on your wristband down to fifty. If that doesn’t happen by this time tomorrow night, the implants in your necks will detonate at random until we’re left with fifty cadets remaining. Same goes for anyone who tries to escape and goes out-of-bounds. You’ll get four warning beeps before you’re dead, but don’t fret, you have hundreds of wooded acres to hide and play in.”
This is going to be fucking gruesome.Already, a few of the larger recruits are gripping their knives excitedly and bouncing on their toes, ready for the slaughter. One cradles his arm, Wraith. At least he’ll be easy to find in the midst of it with his wound.
“There are no guns in this round. Only cadets who can prove they’re capable of killing with their bare hands are worthy of joining a squad. We’ll also be assessing your survival instincts and intellect. Your tactical gear is equipped with warm capsules that provide you with enough heat to not develop hypothermia, so lucky for you, freezing to death won’t be an option.”
Such a divine gift.I roll my eyes. Adams sounds so proud of himself for that one.
“Cameras are placed everywhere in this forest, so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I assume that means everything’s on the table with the way he’s laughing at his own comment. “On my countdown from ten you may begin the trial and not a moment sooner. Those who want to run for cover, I recommend doing so now, before the end of the count.” Drill Sergeant Adams pauses.
No one moves a muscle. I think they’re all as shocked as I am.
Then he shouts, “Nine. Eight.”
As if a bullet has struck my chest, I dart for the woods. I have no idea if Cameron is tailing me; my only focus is to get the fuck away from the countdown location because it’s going to be brutal. There will always be that group of people who want to prove they are superior to the rest of us, who want to show they don’t fear death.God, Cameron is probably one of those people.
I don’t want to be anywhere near it.
My movement sparks disarray as other cadets start to break for the trees too. I make it to the first pine tree before the drill sergeant counts down to one, turning in time to watch asover half of the recruits start ripping at each other’s throats and stomachs with their combat knives.
Horror crashes into me like a war hammer as I watch how savagely they kill one another. The motions are so fast and wicked that there’s no way any of them are even trying to differentiate who it is that they’re stabbing. Red. There’s only red and steam pluming from the area, accompanied by screaming so loud it twists my stomach.
Planned teams are likely already severed. I don’t see the drill sergeant in the mix, but I’m sure he’s enjoying the hell out of this.
My breaths become so loud I can’t seem to hear anything above them and my heartbeats. Movement to my left rips my focus from the bloodshed and to a large cadet who’s running straight for me while I’m foolishly watching the carnage unfold in the field.
Fuck!
I take off through the forest swiftly. The ground is thoroughly frozen, but at least there’s less snow under the canopy of the trees. I pray with each step that I don’t land on a sheet of ice and slip.
Branches snap behind me. The soldier is hot on my heels.
I dare a glance over my shoulder, hoping that it might be Cameron just trying to scare me, but the man’s eyes are dark, filled with a hunger to kill something. I force my legs to pump faster.
A black lump on the ground almost causes me to trip, but I leap it just in time. The man behind me doesn’t, though. He trips over the body and plummets to his elbows, letting out a loud grunt.
This is my chance.
I twist and charge back toward him while he’s stunned, drawing out my knife and burying it deep into the left side of hisback. The blade breaks through a rib, and even though the guard stops at his flesh, I know I’ve pierced his heart.
The man cries out. It’s a dying sound, so guttural and raw it almost makes me feel bad. A past version of me would’ve cared that I just killed a stranger, but I gutted that bitch a long time ago. If it’s me or them, I’m choosing me.
I don’t wait for him to die. I’m still too close to the countdown location, and I worry others may have heard him scream.
I jerk my blade from his back mercilessly and snatch the knife from his hand as well, sheathing mine since it’s covered in blood and slippery already. If I get attacked again, I need to have a good grip. Blood is as slick as oil when it’s fresh, and it can be your ruination.
Sparing one brisk look around, my breaths plume in the air before I run in the direction I hear the least amount of screams coming from. My entire body is drenched in a cold sweat, and my heartbeat drums loudly in my ears. I’ve completely lost focus. I need to calm down and let this adrenaline pass. I desperately want to take my tactical jacket off, but I know it’s far too cold and I’ll get hypothermia if I do that.
I’m not used to the unpredictable mess this is. All my prior training and “jobs” were quiet, invading small bunkers or buildings. This? This is maddening. No wonder Cameron took matters into his hands and taught me how to kill a man with my fucking teeth. I thought he was deranged for even thinking it was necessary, but I’m starting to come around to it.
Where the fuck is Cameron?I worry as I press my legs to move faster. The wails and cries in the distance start to taper off the farther I get into the woods.
After what feels like an hour, I finally collapse against a tree to rest and get my breathing under control. It’s hard to hear much over my own pulse, but I quiet myself enough to listen.After a few minutes of silence, I look around the tree at my back and survey the area.
A few inches of snow coats everything from the moss on the pine boughs to the rocks on the ground. My footsteps are visible.Goddamn it.I fist my knife tightly. It’ll only be a matter of time before someone tracks me down.
The band on my wrist vibrates, drawing my eyes down to it. It was at one hundred and one when the trial started, and it’s already down to eighty. My teeth gnash together. I really hope Cameron was smart enough to not stick around in the countdown spot. Not that he needs me to worry about him, but I can see him being reckless.
