Recruit

Chapter 5

Jack woke. He felt tired. He felt hungry. He felt cold. Lieutenant Crippin was shouting.

The recruits were climbing out of beds that Jack was sure were just as uncomfortable as his own. Jack checked that his watch was safe in its new hiding place, tucked inside the thin mattress through a split in the stitching. Then, having satisfied himself that the watch was safe, he slipped out from under his rough blanket and stood on the cold, stone floor. Sergeant Hacker was walking along the line of bunks, throwing a silver-wrapped ration bar onto each bunk. Jack grabbed his immediately. He wasn’t missing out on what might be his only meal of the day.

“Eat, you hayseeds,” Crippin shouted. “We’ve got a long day ahead. We are going to start training for war. It is my duty to train you to kill Chitin scum and not get killed by Chitin scum. Form up on the parade ground. Ninety seconds, hayseeds. You get me?”

Jack shouted his reply through a mouthful of the sticky ration bar. It tasted sweet and meaty, with a bitter chemical aftertaste. Jack felt an immediate burst of energy both physical and mental. He dressed and was out the door before the last bite was in his stomach.

The recruits were marched off the parade ground and up The Hill. The march was easier in daylight and on a full stomach with the energy provided by whatever secret ingredient had been included in the dark, heavy ration bar. From the top of the hill, Jack could see the training ground--a series of small hills all topped with small metallic fortifications.

Between the hills lay a series of well-trodden paths and obstacles of various kinds. Some obstacles were designed to be climbed, others to be crawled under. Many were lined with coils of barbed wire.

“Today is just to warm you up,” Crippin said. “You will run the course and complete the exercises. If anybody falls too far behind, they will wish they hadn’t.”

Crippin led the recruits off the hill toward the start of the course. She lined up the recruits at the start point. “You can’t get lost,” Crippin said. “You can’t avoid any exercise. You start when I tell you. You stop when I tell you. Move these hayseeds out, Sergeant.”

Hacker started shoving the recruits forward one at a time until the whole squad got the message and started moving down the hill toward the training course.

It was exciting at first. Jack enjoyed the open running between obstacles. The various obstacles were easy at first. Whether he was climbing or crawling, Jack threw himself at the obstacles with enthusiasm. He had never had much time for crawling in the dirt. He had always enjoyed less strenuous activities, but today, he was pumped.

The run between each obstacle was the easiest part for Jack and soon, he was leading the field. The ration filled his stomach but didn’t weigh him down, and the chemicals rushing through his veins kept him focused and enthusiastic.

Jack ran toward a rifle range. A number of rifles lay chained to a table. Beyond the table stood a line of targets, each one further away, at two hundred-meter intervals.

Crippin stood to one side of the table, a small case of ammunition at her side. She handed out magazines to each recruit.

“You have five shots, hayseeds. Hit your targets or I’ll have Sergeant Hacker hit you. The military doesn’t have bullets for you to waste on poor shooting. We have got to save all our ammunition for killing the damn Chitin scum. Hit your targets.”

Jack snatched up a rifle. It was lighter than it looked. It was formed from the same composite as the hull of a spacecraft. Jack looked down the sights to the first target. The telescopic effect of the rifle sight made the target appear within arm’s reach. The furthest appeared a mere stone’s throw away.

“Load your weapon, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “You are not here to enjoy the scenery, though I know it is a beautiful sight. This is where we turn hayseeds into Chitin killers. Load your weapon.”

The weapon was simple by design. It was easy to understand and easy to use. The place where the ammunition was to be inserted was clearly marked. Jack rammed the magazine home and took aim.

The rifle kick was enormous. It powered back into Jack’s shoulder. The force pushed Jack backwards through the dirt. He recovered himself and looked down the sight at his target. He’d hit the bullseye.

“Good first shot, hayseed. But there will be more than one Chitin out there for you to kill.”

Jack fired his next shot at the target four hundred meters away. Another bullseye.

As Jack was sighting the next target, a recruit came running up to the range. Jack heard the panting of someone running hard. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, someone bumped into him. His finger touched the trigger and the rifle fired. It slammed awkwardly into his shoulder. The rifle was not sitting true when it fired and the butt of the rifle sent a sudden jolt of pain shooting through Jack’s shoulder. Jack looked to see who had bumped into him. He looked over to the grinning, grubby face of Torent.

“I’ll show you how to shoot, Forge,” Torent said. He quickly loaded his rifle, sighted his target, and pulled the trigger, all in an instant.

“Bullseye, hayseed.” Crippin was looking down range through her small set of binoculars.

Torent looked at Jack and grinned. He fired his remaining shots in quick succession, then dropped the weapon and was off running.

Jack took aim at the next target. He fired his shot.

“Another bull, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “You missed one. Don’t miss another. We haven’t got spare ammunition for you to miss, hayseed.”

Jack took careful aim at the next target. Even through the sights, it appeared distant. A strong heat haze made the target wobble. Jack relaxed and fired.

“No bull,” Crippin said, “but at least you hit the target. If that had been a Chitin’s massive head, you would have hit it alright.”

A group of recruits came panting and puffing to the table with the rifles. In a moment, every rifle was taken and shots were being fired every couple of seconds.

Bill Harts came up to the table and grabbed the rifle next to Jack. He loaded, took aim, and fired. “Missed,” he said.

“Just relax,” Jack said. “Take aim. Breathe in. And then fire.”

Bill took aim again. His response told Jack what he needed to know. Bill had missed again.

“Take a bit more time to get your sights in. Relax. Don’t jerk the rifle when you fire.”

“Concentrate on your own targets, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “If we need rifle training officers here, we will request them from the military command. But they won’t be sending us any. All soldiers who can shoot are out there killing Chitins.”

Jack heard the familiar buzz of Hacker’s tazer close by. He put the noise out of his mind and took aim. Jack completed his rounds and recorded three bulls. If it wasn’t for Torent, he would have had a clean sweep. Jack dropped his rifle and ran off, determined to catch and overtake Sam Torent.

The extra gravity on the small moon started to take its toll. Jack saw Torent up ahead. He looked to be struggling too. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack saw him put his head down and put in an effort to run harder when he saw Jack was catching him.

Another few minutes and Jack was coming level with Torent. Jack kept his eyes on the path ahead. The next obstacle was only a few strides ahead. He pulled away from Torent easily and approached the obstacle.

Barbed wire was strung across the path, leaving a small gap underneath. The ground was littered with sharp rock fragments the size of Jack’s fist. A sign on either side of the path warned of live gunfire. Jack saw the automatic gun battery on one side of the obstacle. Jack dropped to the ground and began crawling.

The barbed wire was low but gave Jack enough room. He picked his way around the sharp rocks, taking care not to hurt his arms as he crawled along. This was not as tough as it first looked. And then the gunfire started.

The guns fired a two-second burst. The bullets tore through the air and made a strange fizzing sound as the air around the bullets boiled. The bullets thumped into the dirt mound on the opposite side. Jack stopped crawling and pressed himself to the ground. He felt trapped by the wire above him. Running was one thing, firing a rifle was exciting, but this? Being shot at with rapid fire automatic weapons was terrifying. And then the whole experience started to feel like a horrible dream. He should be back in university. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. This had been a huge mistake. Just on the point of getting to his feet and declaring the whole thing a huge mistake, another burst of gunfire erupted.

Torent scurried past Jack. The gun spat out one short burst after another and while Jack pressed himself closer to the ground, trying desperately to get away from the terrifying sounds of bullets above him. Then he saw Torent look back as he got to the other side of the wire.

Seeing the smirk on Torent’s face as he looked back through the wire spurred Jack into action. He started moving again and picked his way gingerly through the rocks and flinched at every crack from the huge automated weapon. Other recruits were making it to the wire and Jack heard their voices ranging from worry to fear, and then he heard the shouts from Lieutenant Crippin and the zaps from Sergeant Hacker’s tazer. The sounds of worry and fear turned to yelps of pain and cries of distress as the recruits were forced to move forward.

Jack reached the end of the wire with cuts on his hands and a huge gash on his elbow where he’d caught the sharp point of a rock. Torent was running but struggling. Jack knew he could catch him.

Jack judged the distance to Torent and paced himself. And then further up ahead, Jack saw Crippin sitting on her buggy. It looked like a finish line. Jack had been running and crawling and dodging bullets for several hours. He was sure it was time for a break. Crippin was pushing them all to breaking point, but Jack was sure she didn’t want to actually break them. Recruits were not easy to find.

Jack spotted the small pile of silver ration bars and water cooler on a trailer hooked up to Crippin’s buggy. It was either a cruel joke or it was time for a rest. Jack decided to be optimistic. He decided Crippin was going to let them rest. But before he could rest, he had to beat Torent to the finish.

Jack put his head down and gave it everything. No point leaving anything out on the course when he could burn all his reserve and beat Torent. Jack would show that thief. Jack was going to steal first place from him.

Jack’s legs burned. They wobbled. He pressed on. He kept upright by strength of will. He would win. He looked up to check his progress. Torent had slowed to a walk but was still moving forward, and he was still ahead. Jack put his head down and ran. He would pass Torent with a hundred meters to spare.

Jack closed in on Torent and found an extra burst of energy with the joy of beating the thief. He turned and looked back at Torent just in time to see Torent stick his foot out. Torent’s foot tapped Jack’s ankle. It was the slightest of touches, but it was enough to unbalance him.

Jack’s fell forward, sprawling over the sharp rock fragments. He cut his hands, knees, face. His head spun, and blood burst out of his nose and ran into his mouth. He watched Torent run off toward Lieutenant Crippin. Jack tasted blood as he climbed to his hands and knees. The dark sand on the ground felt cold. He felt a hot flush and dizziness.

The horizon and the darkness of space beyond the surface of the small moon wobbled. Jack looked up and saw Torent reach Crippin and the pile of ration bars. And then behind, he heard the rumble of footsteps as the rest of the recruits came running.