The Military Arena

Chapter 4: First Day of Training

My alarm clock beeps so loudly I literally jump a little in my bed. Steven is gone, I'm guessing he went to the public bathrooms that they have out in the hall. I get up and get changed. We weren't given out any uniforms or dress codes, so I just put on a t-shirt and shorts. I then head out the door. To my surprise no one else is up. I was expecting a hall full of people, but they either left earlier, or I'm one of the first few to get up. I really hope it's the second option. I press my ear against a wall to someone else's room, sure enough I hear faint snores and a few sobs from people who have been stripped of their freedom.
It's a Monday, meaning that today is specified training day. I think as I'm walking in this empty desert to the training center. I wonder what specified training is exactly. It could mean that we get one on one training. We focus on just one skill, or that we focus on one skill something that no one else is focusing on. When I arrive at the training center a guard asks for my name. "Michael Serge" I tell him with a shake in my voice that was not meant to slip out. He checks his list and opens the door to let me in.
The training center is huge. It has many stories and each story is big enought to have a zoo in. I just stay on the first floor, though. I look around for where I'm supposed to go until an older looking gentleman, maybe in his early 30's walks with me to the back of the floor. There a small group of unfortunate souls such as myself sit and wait. We all came a little early, so naturally we have to wait for the rest of the people to arrive. I look around at the people already here, there are both girls and boys, both 18 and 21 year olds, and of all races. I find an area on the floor to sit next to a ginger haired girl and a weird blonde boy.
As soon as the clock says 5:30 the instructor immediately begins. She doesn't start off with "Hello, my name is blah blah blah..." No, she gets right into the point. "Today is your first day of the rest of your short lives." She shouts. "We chose you, and now you must answer to our calling. Our purpose here is to make sure you guys are prepared for battle and that you won't get yourselves hurt, or anyone on our side hurt, understood?" She waits for a while before shouting in an extrememly loud voice, "UNDERSTOOD!?" We all are taken aback by how loud she said it, and that you can hear a clear echo off the steel walls of the training center. "Understood." We all shout back in unison."Good. Now understand that many of you guys will die in the Clink, but you as an individual might not die, you have to make sure you get out of there alive. You will want to die, I'll tell you that, but make sure you stay alive." Looking around at the people around me you can see two different types of people. Those who think to themselves, "I'm getting out of that Clink alive." And those that are thinking to themselves, "I hope I don't die in the Clink." I don't know what I am. I know I can survive in most survival situations, but not if the weather were to change instantly from tropical rainforest to blowing blizzard overnight. Also, the fact that some of these other people are going to want to kill me for their higher rank makes me sick.
The lady finishes off by telling us what specified training days will look like. "You will each be divided into groups based on your age. You will then follow an instructor assigned to your group. You will do various activities that are specified for certain situtions, some days you'll be specifying on swordsmanship, other days may be edible plants. Be sure that you are paying attention and ask questions if there is something you don't understand." And with that she dismisses us to our groups. Our group instructor is a man. He looks around forty and is balding towards the center of his head. He has that face that makes it look like he's always pissed about something. His name is Derek. That's all he would tell us about himself.
Today our specified training is shooting with rifles, and other firearms. I am terrible with firearms. I can't shoot at all. I don't like the loud sound, how heavy the weapon is, and I don't like how you have to hold it. I do hit the human shaped targets. I typically hit too low and to the left. Derek says I'm doing a good job, but everyone else is hitting the chest or the head; I'm hitting the arms and legs. We shoot at different shaped objects, from rabbits to wolves, humans. The goal is to get us to be comforable at shooting to kill and shooting to remain alive. All the humans are shaped in different possistions, they're in army crawls, standing, kneeling down. They also put obstacles with just their heads or limbs sticking out resembling a person hiding behind a rock or tree.
We shoot all day and my fingers are in a lot of pain. We finish it off with a long distant run. Then we are dissmissed. I catch up with Steven and we walk the mile back to our dorm. We don't even change out of our dirty, sweaty training clothes. They told us that today was the easiest we would get it.