The Hunt

Chapter 14

Darren:

I look down at the watch on my wrist. 08:45 am. Combat Training at 09:00.

I feel the dread in the pit of my stomach, wondering what's going to happen. I've got a team that clearly aren't on my team. I think back to Mike, his hints and comments, his dripping sarcasm and perpetual smile. Damn it.

"You alright?" Jack asks from over the table. His breakfast bowl is empty. Nothing wrong with his appetite. I look down at mine, still full of the grey sludge they call porridge.

I nod, saying nothing.

"Eat your damn food. You'll need your strength if we're going to survive the training today." He says it with a half smile, trying to make light of a serious situation. I smile weakly in return.

"Not hungry." I say, pushing the bowl away. I don't feel like eating.

"We better get a damn move on then. Don't want to be late for your first training with the troops, captain." He gives me a mock salute. I laugh bitterly. It's not funny, really, but I appreciate he's trying to lighten the mood, make it a little easier.

Jack stands up, his chair scraping on the hard ground and I follow suit. I glance around at the bustling room, soldiers eating and chatting, apparently oblivious that anything is wrong. I wonder how many of them know, or suspect that it's not all as it seems. Most would dare not ask even if they thought it.

We walk towards to the door, and out into the hall, treading the familiar path to the combat training room. I glance at the city through the large windows as we pass by, I long to be back there, back before I came, back with my family. Regret washes over me, I feel a surge of heat behind my eyes and they start to water.

No, damn it. I think. I shake my head, clearing it, and force myself to think about the present. Now is not the time for weakness. These guys will tear me apart.

I walk into the combat training room, behind Jack. I get the feeling he's being a bit protective, going ahead of me. It makes me feel slightly better. The five members of my new team are already there, lounging around, waiting. The small, bald instructor is waiting at the front of the room, his brown eyes lock on mine for just a moment.

"Good mornin', captain." Says Mike.

There's a murmer of good morning's from the others. It sounds forced, like a class of young students early in the morning.

I look at the gathered men, apart from Billy the driver, who looks relatively normal and at least somewhat friendly, I don't feel like fighting any of these guys is a good idea.

Andrew is big and his short, cropped hair gives him an intimidating look. Percy is even bigger and looks like he's a strong as a tree. Frank might be easier, he's certainly thinner, though his tangled hair and beard and his flickering eyes give him a wild look.

And Mike. Well, Mike's something else. He's an unknown. But I don't fancy my chances.

The instructor speaks, "We're going to start with basic movements. Solo routine. Get in line please."

I sigh, a quiet sigh of relief. No hand to hand combat yet. I'm not going to get my hopes up too much, there's still time.

We go through the routines, following the instructor in his white robe. Punches and kicks, blocks and turns. It feels good to be moving, I can feel my confidence building as my muscles stretch and strain. Sweat forms on my forehead and I can feel the energy building up, adrenalin coursing through my veins.

I steal a glance at the others, they are all following the routine with ease. Every one of them is more advanced than me, and I suspect more advanced than Jack.