Inhale

Chapter 10 - Appearances

The training grounds weren't like I expected. I expected something open and aboveground: this was the complete opposite. Instead of that dreamy, blue sky that I adore, I discovered metal surrounding me. The area wasn't cramp per se, but it was not as open as I'd like it to be. There were three halls that branched off the room, which only appeared to have two rooms each. A horde was swarming around the wooden bulletin boards in the center of the room, and some members were leaving for the halls. However, I didn't know what to do. I shouldn't expect much, but how is this a training ground?

"Alright, Al," Phillip muttered, turning towards me, "first of all, we have to figure out who our drill sergeant is."

"Drill sergeant?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are we distributed into groups?"

"Yeah, we are. It's so the sergeants only have to deal with a small group," he replied as we began to stroll towards the bulletin boards.

"How many people are in each group?" I inquired. Since he said "'small", there must only be about ten or fifteen people in each. That is, unless he is under-estimating.

"Well, maybe 'small' is an understatement. Everyone is separated into about six groups. Since there's two hundred or so of us, they'll be like twenty-five in each room," he loudly explained, drawing the attention of those nearby. "Last year, I was put in the smallest group: there were only eighteen of us."

"Sounds small."

"Well, compared to the group with thirty, yeah," he commented as we pushed our way through the crowd to get to the board. Finally, we made it to one of the boards and though we didn't have a clear view, we were able to see the whole of the list.

"Goddamn it!" he cursed.

"What?" I asked, scanning the list for my name. Hallway A in Room 2 with Drill Sergeant Morgan Smith... is that a woman or a man? "What's wrong with Sergeant Smith?"

"He's the roughest person you can get and to make matters worse, has something against my dad," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "He's going to make boot camp a living hell. I know that because I had him last year."

"Well, looks like Lady Luck's not on our side," I replied, though didn't think much of it. Katherine must have had good connections with everyone... at least, that's what I'd like to believe. "However, there's no need for us to groan and moan about it. Let's just go, all right?"

"All right, let's go," he said with a soft smile. Once more, he took me by the wrist and we shuffled through the crowd. Surprisingly, not many people went to Hallway A... maybe we were placed into the least-crowded hall? Of course, that wasn't the case: we were simply late.

When we arrived in the room, everyone was there and standing before the Drill Sergeant in a neat and ordered line... how embarrassing. Awkwardly, Phil and I trod down the line and took our stance at the end. Esmae ecstatically waved at us, until those around her gave her death stares. Once we were settled, the Drill Sergeant cleared his throat and turned to the entire congregation.

"Well, since King and Adair have finally decided to join us, we will start," the Drill Sergeant stated. "Today is your very first day of boot camp—hopefully, you will make it through this camp. That is, unless you're like King over there," he said, gesturing at Phil. Snickers were heard in the front of the room, until he cleared his throat once more.

"Great to have you back on the team, King," he chuckled, venturing back and forth in the line. "In this room, I see many losers: losers who will instantly get slaughtered when sent into battle. Losers that will get shot at and die, and losers who are indecisive and weak. If you keep that mentality through this camp, you will get slaughtered and you will die. Or, at least morally wounded. However, there are some winners," he said, stopping, staring at the more muscular men in the group. "And they will succeed."