I flip myself around, running backward. “Going too fast for you, soldier?”
He’s only a few feet behind me now, keeping an even pace. I hadn’t realized how slow I must be with the rucksack on.
“Suit yourself,” he says, and I flip back around and ignore his presence. I continue on until we hit the two-and-a-half-mile mark and my boots become unbearable. I’ve committed to pushing forward, and I won’t give this guy any ammunition. Especially knowing he might take it back to Jack. I don’t need either one of them proving my father right, so I keep pushing.
When we hit the three-mile marker, I wheeze.
“Take me out of my misery, Mother Nature,” I whisper to my weight-bearing-support-partner-of-a-tree as McCafferty scribbles my time for the hike. He marches to the same wall we started at and retrieves a second rucksack. Forget about the bulk that tips me forward as he threads it onto my front, it’s my feet that break me.
“Time for long and heavy,” he says.
A layer of sweat clings to my skin, the heat curdling my bloodstream. My definition of prime shape was off. I’m not even out on the fire yet and it feels like my clothes are melting into a second layer of skin. I wipe at the sweat that rolls down my forehead with the back of my hand.
“Get used to it. It’s ten times worse next to the flames,” he says.
I allow my posture to sag for a second, but it does nothing to relieve the deep ache setting in.
“What’s wrong? Getting tired?” he mocks.
I am. But that’s not even the worst part. It’s these damn boots. For the top recommended and most expensive pair on the market, they’re failing me. Four hours ago, they wore marble-sized blisters on the backs of both of my heels and on the edges of my pinky toes. Every time I move, my feet shift, stretching and tugging at the loose skin. I’m one move away from breaking them open.
I refuse to look weak next to McCafferty, but I’m going to need some serious bandages if I plan on being able to walk tomorrow.
“Nope,” I lie. “You just looked like you could use a break.”
Compared to the grueling gymnastics he’s put me through, that’s all today has been for this guy, a break. He sat on his ass while I showed him how to deploy a fire shelter. The only time he’s lifted a finger was to hold the opposite side of the litter as I demonstrated hauling an injured crew member off the mountain. It’s a good thing I paid attention to those fire course training videos; I’ve learned nothing from him.
His hands are on his hips and I know he can sense my irritation. “Do you know what today was?”
“Yourdon’t give a shitday?” It’s the blisters talking at this point.
“Funny,” he scoffs. “It’s been in the nineties most days this summer. That’s pretty miserable for the mountains. The crew just got off a fourteen-day roll with a seven-day extension. Twenty-one days,” he repeats, as if I couldn’t total them myself. “I was supposed to be at an air-conditioned movie theater eating Junior Mints with my girlfriend. Instead, I’m here with you.”
“Hey, man, nothing’s keeping you here.” I raise my arms in the air. “I’d be happy to take your spot if you want to waste your time on a girl who will probably cheat on you while you’re away all summer.”
The moment it comes out of my mouth, I wish I could take it back. I’m projecting. While Teddy never cheated, I’m jealous he has someone in his life who chose him. Who wants to spend her time withonlyhim.
He stands and closes in until he’s inches from me.
“If you ever talk about Madison like that again, my fist will be meeting your face. We’re done for today.” He stomps away.
I didn’t come here to make friends.
But I certainly didn’t plan on making enemies either.
CHAPTER TWELVE
REED
It’s seven by the time McCafferty dismisses me from our day of hell. I have to force myself to walk without a limp to get back to my room.Ourroom. Man, I hope he doesn’t come back here for a while.
Most of the crew must have taken their R&R elsewhere. It’s silent in the barracks.
I hip-check the door, not caring when it rebounds off the old frame. All I can think about is getting out of these work boots.
The springform mattress creaks under my weight and folds like a pool noodle in the middle. I don’t have to bend very far to tug at the thick laces of my right shoe. Raw skin grates against my sock as I rock the heel, working my foot free. A layer of flesh pulls back with the cotton, and I wince when it makes contact with the open air.
Balancing my heel on the edge of the bed, I rummage around the bottom of my bag for the only box of Band-Aids the old Safeway by my house had in stock. The wrapper husks open with little effort and the tabs fall off before I’ve even touched them. The strip covers up the section of raw skin about as good as my sock did. I switch to my left foot, whining like a baby.
