Rites of Passage (5 page)

Next I maneuver through the maze, weaving back and forth to find my way out, and then I'm standing in front of the rope climb. I stumble as I run up to it and my first jump is feeble, barely getting a foot off the ground. Dropping back down, I take a few steps back and try again. Still pathetic.

Shit. Come on, Sam. It's just a freaking rope.

But all I can see is the blue color of Amos's skin when I found him hanging in his bedroom. My hands shake, but then Kelly's there, standing at the edge of the obstacle.

“Come on, Mac. You can do this. Five steps, jump, hook the rope around your leg. You've got this. You're doing great.”

I shake my head, tears burning my eyes and making it impossible to tell which ropes are real and which are doubles.

“Yes, you can. You've done everything else that asshole's ordered you to do. You don't want him to win now, do you? Do it!” He stands there the whole time, cheering me on. The rope is hard and brittle in my hands, burning as I climb, but I'm climbing. I focus on the physical pain, the rope tearing at my skin. It's easier that way.

At the top I ring the bell and glance down at Kelly, who cheers and claps. I'm down on solid ground before I know it.

“You did it, Mac. Now bust butt and finish or we'll never hear the end of it!” Kelly runs back over to my recruit buddies and I move on to the next obstacle as fast as I can, eager to put it behind me and stop imagining what the rope around Amos's neck must have felt like.

FIVE

THREE DAYS AFTER THE OBSTACLE COURSE DEBACLE, THEY
wake us up an hour earlier than normal, at 0430. I groan and roll over, dropping out of the top bunk. “Come on, Katie. Time to get up.” She hates being called Quinn when we're alone. She wants to be normal, at least when we're in our room. “It's Declaration Day. Let's go.”

I jerk my camo pants on, then the brown undershirt that goes under the camouflage button-down. I know it's going to take me a minute or two to lace up my boots. I'm not wasting any time.

Katie moves slow, like always.

“Get your lazy butts out here! It's a big day for you, Worms!” Matthews pounds on our door, then moves to the next one and bangs some more. “Declaration Day! The day you declare your intentions to stay here and become men, or go home and stay pussies.”

I grit my teeth. It's only taken a week for Matthews to become my worst enemy. Every day he pushes me harder and harder, as if it's his personal mission to get me to quit. He leaves the other girls for the rest of the cadre to deal with. He hasn't spit on me since day one, but I expect it to happen again anytime now.

My fingers work quickly and I pull the laces tight and dress the ends of my pants so they rest at the top of the boots, mid-calf, like they're supposed to. I even take a second to brush a layer of polish on them, the acrid scent of the cream stinging my eyes.

Katie is just crawling out of bed. “Go on without me. I'll be there when I get there.”

“If you make us late, we're all going to pay for it.” But I've said it before. We're all tired, all exhausted. We haven't even had a chance to get to know each other because each time we get into our rooms we're asleep within seconds. Maybe after today I can figure out what motivates her.

I open the door and grab the bright orange baseball cap that I'm forced to wear with this uniform, designating me a Worm, and then rush out to stand, back straight, against the wall. I feel naked without my KB. Since the beginning of Hell Week I've had it with me at all times, but we're not allowed to have it on us today. It would just get ruined.

“Your roommate's not out here, McKenna. I see you're already leaving your battle buddies behind.”

I stare straight ahead, even though Matthews is yelling at me from the side. If I look at him I'll just get yelled at more. “Corporal Matthews, this recruit didn't want to be late for reveille, Corporal Matthews!” The yelling scratches my raw throat and I have to cough.

He rolls his eyes, snorting in disgust. I ball my hand into a fist at my side and hope he doesn't see the motion. Around me, the other recruits in my company are starting to line the walls, one arm straight down, the other out in front of us at a ninety-degree angle, gripping the bill of our orange hats like we've been ordered to all week.

“Get back in there and wait for her to come out! We don't leave anyone behind!”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews.” I turn and head back into the room. “Hurry the hell up, Katie,” I grumble through gritted teeth.

She's sitting on her bunk, tying her boots as slow as a zombie. I kneel down in front of her and pull the laces from her fingers.

“Not much of a morning person, are you?”

She utters something unintelligible as I finish and dress the top of her pants like mine. No time for a shine, though, so she's on her own.

“Leave your KB and grab your cover. Let's go.”

“Thanks, Sam.” She reaches for her orange hat before following.

I shrug it off and head back out to wait on the wall. We're the last ones, of course.

“Way to be late, ladies. Nice to know that if we're ever in a combat situation we'll be waiting for your lazy asses.”

I don't bother responding to Matthews. There's no time, anyway. After a rousing round of push-ups, flutter kicks, jumping jacks, and high knees, we run single file down the four flights of stairs and onto the parade ground.

Outside, the world erupts in a cacophony of yelling. Each company stands at attention in front of their barracks, corporals screaming orders nonstop. Just another fine day at the DMA. Adults stand in the center of the parade ground—professors and dorm monitors who keep an eye out for anything
unfavorable
that might happen to the recruits. The rising sun lights the horizon and already it's hot enough to make me sweat. It's going to be a long day.

I let the yelling go in one ear and out the other, my eyes focused on a tree at the opposite end of the parade ground. It's the easiest way I know of to cope. I hear the orders, fix my attention stance to their specifications, but other than that let the insults slide off me like water. When we get the order to go, for the first time we're moving as a battalion, all seventy DMA recruits stepping in sync toward part one of Declaration Day: the thirteen-mile march.

 

We've lost another recruit in our company before we even get to the top of House Mountain. That makes seven since we met the cadre a week ago. Quitting now, after everything we've been through? It seems like a waste.

“All right, Alpha Company. Take a few minutes to breathe, then we've got to get to work,” Drill Sergeant Stamm orders, then heads away almost immediately, going to talk to the commandant.

Before I sit down, I check to see where Matthews is. He walks toward his buddies instead of yelling at us for a change. When I'm sure I'm safe, I flop down onto the grass between Katie and Kelly. Cross and Short rest across from us, both lying back and trying to use the break for all it's worth.

“You need to drink. Keep hydrated,” I tell Katie.

“Mmph.” But she doesn't even reach for her Camelbak.

The top of House Mountain is beautiful. I gulp water as I look around, enjoying the three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the mountain ranges and the little town, home to the DMA, below. I've got no idea what we're doing up here, but there certainly couldn't be a prettier place to do it.

“I never got to say thanks for the obstacle course.” I keep my eyes on the mountain when I talk to Kelly. “I really appreciate it. I don't know if I could have done that without you.”

“You don't have to thank me. We're recruit buddies. This is what it's all about, right? Becoming a family?”

If my family at home is the model the DMA goes by, I'm not sure I want another one. “I guess. Thanks anyway, though.”

“You're doing okay, McKenna. Pretty impressive, really, despite the way Matthews keeps yelling at you.”

I stop drinking and look at him. Throughout the week he's separated himself out as a leader, shining at anything the cadre ask us to do. I didn't expect that from him.

“Oh, I didn't mean”—his face flushes red—“I really meant you're doing a good job.”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks, Kelly.” I wonder, briefly, what his first name is, then decide it shouldn't matter. “You too.”

“Can't believe I've made it this far, actually. No one in my family has ever done anything like this before.”

“Really? I'd have thought your family was career military.” I study the mountains again and hope my face isn't obviously red.

“Nah. My dad's a high school teacher. Mom works at the bank in town. My older brother has Down's so I thought I'd come here and get a scholarship to college.” When he grins this time, one dimple shows itself on the left side of his face.

It's weird to talk so much after a week of not being able to. “So what do you want to do?”

He rips off the wrapper of an energy bar he'd hidden somewhere. My mouth waters at the sight. Breaking off a piece, he scoots a little closer and hands it to me. “College, Officer Candidate School, career in the military. What about you?”

While I finish chewing, I tell him, “The same. I'm a McKenna. My life's all mapped out.”

His eyes, that teal color that I could get lost in if we were anywhere else, study me for a second longer.

“I kind of have dreams of following in Jonathan's footsteps, being the first female cadet colonel. Then college, OCS, and the Army, like normal.”

“So, your hopes aren't set too high, then?” He rocks to the side, nudging me with his shoulder. My stomach does a little flip at the contact. “I think it's great that you want to do that, Mac.” He looks like he wants to say something else but the cadre start yelling. He jumps up and reaches a hand down.

I grab my backpack and let him pull me up. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says, giving me that wink again.

Drill's order to not get involved with any of the boys nudges at my brain.

“Form up, Alpha!” The order comes from Drill, standing across the field, giving me an excuse to not pay attention to my hand, where Kelly's had touched it just seconds ago. I help pull Katie up, then the three of us sprint over to where Drill is standing and get in line with our squad.

The second part of Declaration Day is a team-building exercise. We camouflage our faces and practice buddy carries across the field at the top of House Mountain. Katie and I pair up with the other females. Even if they want us gone, the DMA takes the threat of a lawsuit pretty seriously. They won't put us in a position where we could get sexually harassed.

Two hours of carrying each other across the field during a simulated battle leaves my arms and legs quivering. Even though I trained all summer, doing these intense workouts all day, every day for a week, has been rough on my muscles. And since I'm the only one strong enough to lift Short, there wasn't a chance of switching off partners. I'd kill for a chance to carry featherweight Katie across the field.

When they let us stop for lunch, we collapse again into the grass. Kelly sits next to me, grinning like a fool. Sweat has smeared the paint on his face and I reach out to wipe a smudge of it off his nose. “You've got a little . . .”

His eyes meet mine for a second before I jerk my hand away. He clears his throat and reaches for our meals. “Let's eat.”

“I'm starving.” My heart pounds and I focus on the food so I don't have to think about how I shouldn't have touched him.

Our lunch is in the form of plastic-wrapped, prepackaged food. MREs—Meals Ready to Eat—from the military give us a taste of what meals would be like in a combat zone. I chow down despite the cardboard texture and lack of flavor. We're allowed to talk, at ease up here, but I'm used to eating at attention, staring straight ahead, having to bring my fork to my mouth at a right angle and not talking to anyone. It's all I can do not to “square” my meals even up here.

“All right, Alpha Company, get your asses up,” Matthews yells.

It's instinct by now, snapping to attention at any voice that yells at me. It's only a little better when it's Drill rather than one of the corporals.

“It's time for us to head down House Mountain,” Drill says, his voice barking across the field, hoarse after giving commands and singing marching cadences all week.

I break my military bearing for just a second to glance at him. His eyes are shining and he smiles. I quickly move my gaze back where it's supposed to be.

“We're not going down the same way we came up, though. You've got an hour to get yourselves down to the bottom by rappel and then to the river entry point. Remember everything we've taught you this week. The ropes are secured over there. Understood?”

“Drill Sergeant Stamm, yes, Drill Sergeant Stamm!” we all yell at the top of our lungs. We hear the other recruits sounding off around the field.

“I expect to see all of you in formation below sooner rather than later, Alpha Company.”

“Alpha leads the way!” we yell as one. Drill turns his back on us and walks away. He glances back once and I think he's looking at me, but Matthews and Julius start to yell and bark orders. They're just as hoarse as Drill, though, and we can barely hear them. My muscles protest, seizing up as I force them to move again, but there's no way I won't follow these directions. No way I'll let them know I'm so exhausted I could cry. At the end of this, school starts. Sometime soon, surely, there will be a chance for me to sleep more than four hours at a time. The thought spurs me on.

Checking to make sure the other girls are with us, I turn to the right and follow Kelly across the field and to the belay ropes, trying to remember everything I've learned about rappelling over the past few days.