Jack's idea of 'work' was physically exhausting, but it was exactly what I needed right now. The pounding of my heartbeat and the thump of my feet across the mats left no room in my mind for poisonous thoughts. It had been almost two weeks since the invasion. I knew that my mother and sister were gone, but some deep part of my consciousness still believed they'd be at home waiting for me. The news about Ethan hadn't helped my mental state either. I was still in denial, clinging to the childhood memories of my brother, my Ethan, not this stranger with his face.
"Focus April!" Jack's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Sorry," I mumbled, picking up my pace.
Jack tossed me a pair of boxing gloves and strapped a set of mitts onto his hands.
"I want a quick fifty reps then you can rest," he instructed, holding up the targets.
I followed his directions, hitting the padded mitts fast and hard. The muscles in Jack's body tensed in anticipation for my blows, the veins in his forearms more prominent than usual.
"Okay, take five." Jack shook the tension from his upper body once we'd finished.
"We'll work on target practice next. How good are you with a gun?" Jack asked as he swigged from a bottle of water.
"Alright," I panted, still recovering from the intense session.
"So you can shoot straight?"
"Jack, they don't issue you with a gun in the first place if you can't shoot it," I smiled wryly.
In a perfect world I never would have had to pick up a gun in the first place, but this world was far from perfect and I seriously doubted it would ever come close.
"How far can you shoot?"
"I dunno, ten metres, I've never really tested my range," I replied from the inside of a water bottle.
"We'll work on distance and..." Jack trailed off, mumbling words to himself, his thoughts elsewhere.
"Target range is over there." Jack gestured to an empty space in the far corner of the gym.
The target range was just a painted line on the floor before a row of scarecrow-like dummies; targets were pinned to their clothed torsos.
"Meet Kevin, James and Bob, our targets for today," Jack announced, introducing the mannequins.
"They have names?" I raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Not officially," Jack smiled. He handed me a small handgun, safety glasses and a pair of earmuffs.
"Are you sure I need all of this? I have fired a gun before."
"Yes," Jack answered simply, "we have OH&S standards to obey."
"Now, you just need to hit the target. Watch the recoil, this gun has a bit more of a kick than the standard issue you're used to," Jack instructed, stepping back from the line.
I squared off with the target, leveled the pistol and squeezed down on the trigger. A bullet flew from the muzzle directly into the stomach of the straw mannequin, piercing the fabric and disappearing. The shot had hit the dead centre of the target.
"Not bad," Jack mused, joining me back at the painted line. He carefully assessed my shot.
"That shot was dead on target and your only response is 'not bad'," I scoffed.
"Well it wasn't bad," Jack shrugged, "and now you've proved you can actually shoot we can finish early."
"You doubted me?" I asked, faking offense.
"Lacey," Jack clarified, "Lacey doubted you."
"So is that it for today's torture session? I have a three hour patrol after this," I said, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
"Yeah, just run a quick cool down with me before you leave." Jack marked my progress down in a notebook.
"When does your patrol start?" he asked.
"Six thirty, why?"
"Just curious," Jack smiled. One side of his mouth always lifted slightly higher than the other when he smiled. It was rather endearing, but always made it appear he was up to no good.
"Have you been part of the patrols for long?" Jack queried in an attempt to strike up conversation.
"Almost four years," I answered, "I signed up the day I turned twelve."
"Wow," Jack whistled, "that's dedication."
"My family needed money and the patrols were the easiest way to get it," I shrugged.
"What about you? How'd you get involved in all of this?" I asked Jack.
"I got into a bad fight. Brodie found me, patched me up and somehow detected my Talents along the way," Jack responded, "I think that was just over a year ago."
"You've made quite a reputation for yourself in a year," I marveled.
"Yeah, well, Talents will do that for you..." Jack trailed off again, lost in his memories.
"So, we'll start the real work tomorrow, I'm thinking hand-to-hand combat and knife throwing," he suggested.
"Sure, if I'm not face-down crying after today," I added.
"It was just weight training and cardio," Jack laughed.
"It was hell," I responded.
"You should probably head off, it's getting close to six," Jack glanced at the clock.
"Yeah, I need to find my uniform and check in for my shift," I groaned, stretching out my spine.
"See you in the dormitory when you finish?"
"Yep, see you then." I waved to Jack as I left the gym, climbing the staircase to the main corridors.
Once I'd started living in the Lab Lacey had tried to convince me to leave the patrols, but I'd refused. These moments when I was alone, wandering through the abandoned streets, gave me time to reflect. I often found myself wondering what it would be like to live in a world that was at peace. A world where children felt safe playing outside and parents didn't have to worry every second. Where leisure took the place of responsibility every once in a while. I wanted my own children, if I had any, to grow up in a world like that.
A tin can rolled noisily down the street, dislodged from its resting sport by the wind. It was coming towards the end of June and the summer heat had really moved in. I breathed the warm evening air and sighed. The bitumen surface beneath my feet was cracked and buckled with age. I was reminded just how old the city really was.
Heavy footsteps moving in rapidly from my left brought me from my reverie. I crouched down in the crumbling doorway of a house, waiting for the footsteps to come closer. My heartbeat increased and my ears rang. High off the adrenaline, I loaded my gun and hovered a finger over the safety. One, two, I counted the seconds, as the pounding grew closer.
"Freeze!" I commanded, launching myself around the corner.
A young girl stopped dead still, her eyes wide with fear. With a sigh of relief I lowered my gun and knelt down in front of the child.
"I'm sorry about that, I thought you were something else. My name's April," I introduced myself, trying to calm the girl.
"Charlie! I told you not to run off like that!" A second, exasperated voice called from around the bend.
"The streets aren't safe- oh!" A teenaged boy turned the corner, pausing when he saw me.
"Is she yours?" I asked, gesturing to Charlie.
"Y- yes," the boy stuttered.
Charlie ran to him and hid behind his legs, her small hands were the only visible feature. When stood together the two were easily distinguishable as siblings. They had the same wary look in their eyes and the same downturned mouth. Both of them dressed in threadbare, fraying rags and their feet were bare. I stood up and brushed the dust off of my pants and tucked my gun back into its holster.
"April," I introduced myself again, this time to the boy, and extended my hand in greeting.
"Griffin," he hesitantly replied, shaking my hand.
"Well Griffin, I'll leave you and Charlie in peace, but just be a bit more cautious in future. The last thing you need is for one of you to be hurt," I warned.
I waved farewell to the pair and continued down the street, quelling my emotions. Charlie reminded me so much of Annabelle, of the hole left by my sister's absence. I fought back the tears that threatened to overflow and continued down the street. I only had a small patrol area and I hoped to complete more than one circuit over the three hour time period before sundown. The gun securely sheathed in its holster thudded against my thigh with every footstep. Any tranquility I had found that evening was abandoned after finding Charlie.
Through a broken windowpane I glanced the watchful eyes of a child. So I was in that district. These houses homed the families who had no other place to go. It was heart-wrenching seeing the desperate eyes of the malnourished children and the exhaustion in the faces of the parents who had tried their hardest to help their family. My throat tightened as memories from my past came flooding back, the meals where we ate only a slice of bread or a scrap of meat, the nights when my mother would weep as she sent her children to bed hungry. I'd tried hard to forget those memories, but they continued to haunt me. I lost myself in the past and before long the sun dipped below the horizon and my shift had finished.
"How's it go?" Jack asked when I joined him in the dormitory.
"Fine," I shrugged, removing my boots at the doorway.
"Okay, now the formalities are over; how was it really?"
"Horrible, I'm never patrolling that district again." My voice was steely, the perfect mask for my emotions. I yanked the tie from my hair, letting the ringlets fall loose around me.
"What happened?" Jack was immediately on alert, trying to decipher my emotions.
"Nothing," I snapped, "I just didn't like the district."
"Come here," Jack stood up. He wrapped his strong arms around me and squeezed lightly. In that moment I felt so small, so defenseless, it was hard to imagine that my hands had killed before. Sniffing, I buried my face in Jack's shirt.
"It'll be alright, I'll talk to Lacey and get her to change your sector." Jack's tone was gentle and calming. I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke.
"Thanks," I sniffed, stepping back and wiping my eyes.
"So while you were gone I met with Skylar, our chief engineer, and discussed the plans involving the jets and, good news," Jack paused for impact, "we can expect the first prototype to be ready in two weeks." Jack's excitement was obvious.
"So we're actually doing something," I flopped down on the bed, my body jolting upon impact.
"Seems like it," Jack sighed, lying back on his own bed.
"I still can't believe my brother is my enemy in all of this," I admitted, "he was so kind and noble when he was young. What happened to change him like this?"
"I really hope that question was rhetorical, because I have no feasible answer to that question," Jack responded.
"Something really horrible must have happened," I was thinking aloud, "the Ethan I remember would never have hurt anything or anyone."
"This isn't your Ethan anymore April," Jack commented, "This is the enemy's Ethan."
"I know," I sighed, "it's just that, my brother was my hero growing up, I wanted to be just like him, but now..." I let out a dry chuckle.
"Now's he's a heartless killer," Jack finished my sentence.
"And I have to face him."
"I'll be there with you April, you won't have to do this alone," Jack murmured.
"Promise?" I felt so much younger than fifteen when I uttered that word.
"Promise," Jack replied softly.
I could feel my eyes grow heavy as the day's training caught up with me. With a yawn I began to doze off on the end of the bed. Jack crossed the room in three light steps; he folded back the top of my blanket. His steady hands gently moved me and placed my head at the pillow.
"G'night," I murmured sleepily as he tucked me in.
"Goodnight," Jack smiled as he brushed a lock of hair from my forehead.
"Sweet dreams," he murmured as he left the room.