REM

War Training

A blacked out environment awaited me in my armoured suit. Pockets of light were present throughout the warehouse, but I didn't need them. My helmet had night vision built in, although I never used it. Having upgraded my eyes before I enlisted, I was one of the top prospects. Money well spent if you asked me.

I ducked behind a crate before checking my flanks. Soldiers with guns popped out at random, a rapid fire of bullets leaving my rifle as I stood up. As far as I could tell, I was on course for a perfect score again on this training run. Not a single target missed, and no damage taken – yet anyway.

Charging from behind the crate, I fired several shots down dark aisles, successfully getting headshots. Targets in a simulator were no match for me, but if one of their rounds hit you, you'd be on the floor.

As I made my way through the warehouse, I was feeling confident. The stairs to the lower level were just up ahead. I focused on them too much this time, a round clipping me in the back.

"Ah!" I grimaced, tumbling to the ground by the escalator.

I turned around and sprayed bullets at the dark silhouettes closing in on me, many, if not all of them dropping like flies. Before more had a chance to come out of the woodwork, I threw myself down the escalator. Rolling and bouncing hard down each step until finally coming to a stop as a crumpled ball, I regretted the decision to force my completion of the level.

It took me several minutes to drag myself behind the escalators, but once I had, I buried myself under cardboard boxes and waited for the horn to sound, signaling the completion of my test.

Laying there in silence, I controlled my breathing as the weight of the suit started to get the better of me. The leap of faith I did down the escalator was a bad idea. I was getting cocky and desperate after being at the top of my class for so long. If I continued to be bored with training, I was probably going to ruin my chances for seeing field combat, which I longed for.

Cardboard boxes were pulled away from me as a white suit with a red cross on its chest came into view. It was a medic of course. Most of them were female, which I absolutely hated since they always had some smart remark after tending to broken and battered men.

The horn eventually sounded once my vitals were scanned by her, then she helped me to my feet before taking me into the hospital wing.

Sitting in nothing but my army briefs, I looked down at the back of my bloody hand. She had messed up the first attempt in the middle, so my IV was offset to the right, but at least it was done.

"Can I get something to wipe this blood off?" I asked, pointing to my hand as she measured out an injection in a needle.

She gave me an alcohol swab, then stuck me with the needle.

"You know you're lucky, right? You could have broken your back pulling a stunt like that." Her words went in one ear and out the other as I wiped the back of my hand.

"Isn't this your job?" pointing to the blood I had just cleaned up. "You did make the mess after all."

She laughed and walked away, leaving me alone at the round, metal table. I watched her ass jiggle as she walked over to a med station. Even though she had an attitude and I was a cocky rookie she didn't show interest in, I enjoyed the view every time.

Brown hair tied back into a pony tail, bluish green eyes, and a pretty smile – which was usually used in combination with sarcastic remarks – were what I adored about the woman. It was a love-hate relationship we had, but there was nothing romantic about it. I think she enjoyed teasing the soldiers. Heck, I didn't know if she swung that way. Never saw her with a man in her bunk.

As she continued to walk around in her tight fitting white uniform, I imagined what it would be like to have her give a shit about me. Stabbing me with needles, hooking up IV – poorly I might add – and checking my vitals were part of the job description. I wanted her to take care of me in other ways.

My elbow remained on the table as it propped up my head, watching her carry on like I wasn't even present. Then she stopped and stared at me as if I had been caught checking her out.

"Really?" she scolded.

"What?"

"You're going to mess up your IV again. How many times do I have to tell you not to lean on that hand? We go through this every time you're in here."

I rolled my eyes as I sat up straight and complied. Resting my arm flat on the table again, she gave me a smirk, then walked over to her bunk entrance. She punched in the code, the doors sliding open a moment later.

"I'm filling out your med log. Don't do anything stupid." She disappeared into her bunk, the doors sliding closed behind her.

"Wouldn't dream of it, pumpkin," I mumbled.

Looking down at my left hand with the IV tube sticking out of it, I twisted my back, stretching out the sore spot from the simulator. I groaned as something cracked in my body, then waited for her to return.