Finals

7: knives and ropes

"Well, you really never know," said Asher, and she could have punched him. 

"Yeah, yeah, I guess we can keep this piece of junk," Kalista scoffed, sliding the slip into her pocket. "A penny? Seriously? Not even a quarter?"

"I mean, at least a quarter could get us a gumball," Asher said with a straight face.

Kalista felt the urge to laugh -- such a strange feeling, a feeling that she had pushed away for so many years. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Cursing her own stupidity, she pushed it away and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, for me to choke you with."

They grabbed a few weapons each and peeked outside the door. The hallway seemed empty. Suddenly remembering Remy's security console, Kalista ran back and put it in her pocket. It would make for some extra weight, sure, but it was always useful and she certainly didn't want it in her enemy's hands.

"Okay, we can search this floor first," Kalista said. "Then go up to the fifth. Ready?"

"Ready," Asher whispered, and they were off.

The fourth floor was the training floor. It had their Skills classrooms, the fighting centers, and numerous rooms that trained everything from your reflexes to your balance to your coordination. Her favorite was the obstacle course. They had spent a whole month in that room, shaving seconds off of their times, and her final time had been at the top of the class.

She knew there would be a slip there.

When they entered the room, she kept her pistol cocked, listening carefully for any sign of life. There was none. "Come on, the start point is up there," she said, pointing at a platform far above.

They scaled the stairs in silence. She was painfully aware of his proximity; she could even hear his breaths in the quiet. All those years they had spent together -- they couldn't have meant nothing. She had convinced herself that they had, but now that he was here, she couldn't help but remember all of the moments she had trained herself to forget: those pieces of bread, their missions together, the late-night talks in their bunk beds, and all of the times they had watched each other's backs.

Now they had to do it one final time.

When they reached the top, they paused, and Kalista turned to him. It was a small platform, and they were only a few inches apart. She blinked and then said quietly, "It starts with a rope course. The most important thing here is to keep your balance. Pretty much all of the times I've failed have been here. It's hard to focus at the beginning, and a loss of focus costs you on these ropes. Then we'll get to the wall. You have to run up it. It's a really steep slope, kind of like--"

"Raphael's torture chamber," he finished, using the nickname that all of the Crimsons had used for their least favorite training room.

Kalista averted her eyes. "Yes, exactly. Then--"

The door opened and closed down below them, and they froze.

Kalista dropped into an instinctive crouch, and so did Asher. From below the railing around the platform, she could see three figures: two boys and a girl, what seemed to be what was left of Cohort 10. She did a quick survey of their weapons: no guns, and two knives each. The shortest one had a grenade in his back pocket.

"K, we have to go," Asher whispered.

She nodded and jumped to her feet. "Race you," she said with a slight grin. It was what they had always said before setting off on their missions.

Asher looked surprised but smiled back. "Ten bucks says I win."

She could almost hear the echo of his younger self in those words. She had always won, and he had never paid up.