Star Runners (14 page)

Besides Skylar, Austin spoke to no one except Bear. The remaining guys in his group continued to remain silent during their workouts. Smart ass remarks or the ragging on each other disappeared, replaced by a cold steel concentration on the matters at hand. He didn't know the remaining six other than David “Bear” Keller, who lived at the end of his hall in the dormitory. Keller, a massive, hairy linebacker from St. Louis, needed to shave twice a day to maintain regulations. Austin found out the other guys called him "Bear" because of his overabundance of testosterone.

The other guys must live on the bottom floor of the dormitory because Austin didn't even know their names. He had heard Sharkey call a few of them: A guy named Ashley, another named Patrick, a shorter blue-eyed guy named Doug who used to smile a lot more before these three weeks of PT, Mark, and Jason. However, Austin never took the time to learn more about these other students. What was the point? With the current rate of "departures," as Nubern called them, most of these students would be gone by the end of their final week.

It wasn't easy. He wanted to help the other guys when they fell or stumbled during PT, but Sharkey wouldn't allow it. After the first week, Austin's muscles and joints ached like never before. Now, three weeks in, he hardly noticed the running anymore. His thighs felt like solid rock and the running barely registered.

With finals next week, Austin felt confident he would be able to stay next semester. He had solid grades in all of his classes. All that remained was the mysterious Gauntlet Sharkey warned about every five minutes of PT. The Gauntlet would take place sometime before the finals, which were scheduled between Wednesday and Friday of the last week of school. Then it would be Christmas break.

He thought of Mom and home several times a day during the final weeks of regular classes. As November rolled into December and the days grew shorter and the nights cooler, it reminded him of last Christmas. He and Josh sitting in the living room, talking about the future and what would happen when Josh left for California. Austin remembered the depression hanging over him like a fog when his best friend left. Now, he didn't know what he would say to Josh if he showed up at Tizona to hang out.

As he finished his classes on the final regular Friday of the semester, Austin strolled back to his dormitory in the fading light of the December afternoon. The final obstacle before Christmas break was a weekend of studying, finals, and the Gauntlet. Then he would be home again with Mom, sitting in front of their sparkling Christmas tree and a crackling fire, eating ham omelets and sipping hot chocolate.

The door crashed, smacking against the cement block wall of his dorm room and ripping him from a dreamless sleep. His heart thudded in his ears as he jolted up, his eyes wide.

"What?"

"Silence!" a male voice snapped.

Three figures entered Austin's dorm room before they thrust a thick fabric over his face. The garment blocked out light from the hallway. He took deep breaths, the fabric moving to his mouth every time he inhaled. He sensed the three figures standing in front of him as he sat at the edge of his bed. His fingers gripped the mattress. He balled the blankets into his fists. It had happened. These men were removing him from campus. He had failed.

"Good," a deep voice broke through the silence. "You were smart enough not to speak. Well done."

Two pairs of hands gripped him under his arms and pulled him to his feet. "Simple rules: take the sack off your head and you fail. Ask questions and you fail. Cry out for it to end and you fail. The rest of your instructions will be awaiting you at your final destination."

After a pause, Austin nodded. The Gauntlet. Austin remained silent as strong arms pushed him out of his dorm room and down the hall. He would follow their rules until he reached the ropes course or whatever it was they had in store for him. He heard other students being roused from their rooms. Some complained at the hour.

"It's three o'clock in the morning!" one student yelled.

They moved down the stairs and into the cool night air. The chill ran up his naked legs and through his boxers. He should have slept in his flannel pants. He heard a soft discussion somewhere nearby and tried to make out the words. It sounded like gibberish; numbers and degrees given off as coordinates or code. Somewhere behind him, a person gasped for air. Must be another student with a sack over his head.

"Alright move it!" the same deep voice boomed.

Hands forced Austin down into a seat. An engine sputtered to life. Someone pushed him to the other side of a seat and a second person sat next to him. The person breathed heavily.

The transport moved away from the dorm. They traveled toward the main gate where Mom had dropped him off in August. He paid attention to direction changes and now wished he paid more attention during the survival training.

He shivered as the vehicle increased speed and bounced along the path. The wheels hit something hard. He nearly fell out and placed his hand forward for balance. He grasped what felt like someone's shoulder.

"Get off!" a voice barked.

Austin moved in his seat and grabbed the metal side. He remembered the ride in with Chief Sharkey on his first day and wondered if he drove the cart now. The path at that time had been bad. He remembered wondering if the school took place in a shack. He remembered the rickety bridge ready to collapse at any moment.

Austin took note of his surroundings. The temperature dropped and he assumed they entered the forest. During their survival training, Sharkey said when you had no visibility you should make better use of your other senses and remain calm. Austin listened to the insects. Each branch the cart wheels popped and crackled echoed into the distance. The dank odor of mold and rot filled the air.

The cart changed direction, this time to the right. The cart turned again as it bounced down a rougher path. Left, right, east, north. By the time the cart rumbled to a stop, any fatigue Austin felt at the beginning of the journey had abated. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. By now, it had to be at least four in the morning, but he didn't feel weary. His heart raced as he wondered about the Gauntlet. He knew one thing; he owed Skylar an apology. This definitely wasn't a ropes course.

Another pair of strong hands shoved Austin out of the cart and he stumbled a few steps until he smacked his shoulder into the bark of a tree. He fought the urge to swear since his only instructions thus far indicated he should be silent. He stood and rubbed his shoulder.

"This one there," the male voice said. "This one goes here."

The hands led him forward. With his shoulder throbbing, Austin held his left hand out in case he ran into another tree. The ground, once squishy with each step like he walked in mud, changed to a firm and hollow surface.

Ice water shot through his veins. They weren't going to throw him into the swamp and make him swim back, were they? He thought of the insects living in the swamp, the leeches, ticks and other creatures. What about alligators?

The hands pulled back on his shoulder and Austin winced at the pain. "Stop here," a different, higher pitched voice said. "Step down."

Austin clinched his teeth, bracing for the cold muck of the swamp. Instead, his foot landed on a slick, plastic surface. He rocked to the side.

"Sit down or you’ll tip the boat."

Austin complied and sighed. At least he wasn't in the water. Not yet.

An engine rumbled to life in the distance a moment before his boat cranked. He wanted to cover his ears. The engine blasted unlike any boat Austin ever heard, almost like a lawn mower crossed with a helicopter. The engine strained and whined before the boat moved forward. As the boat increased speed, droplets of water and a cool mist fell over him. Austin shivered, unable to hide his discomfort any longer.

The boat turned several times, once in a complete circle. It stopped, started, sped up, slowed down. Austin struggled to keep his head straight. He gripped the sides of the boat as it accelerated once again, skipping across the waters. Austin had never been on one, but he wondered if this was an air boat he had seen on television in one of those swamp shows, the boats with massive fans on the back. He lost all sense of direction and focused on the memory of watching those shows with Josh. Anything to keep his mind off the cold. He touched the soaked boxers sticking to his skin.

They slowed. The engines stopped and the boat slid against something.

"Out." The hands gripped under his armpit once again. "Come on, get out."

Like a man stepping onto a mine field, Austin hung his foot over the side of the boat. He felt ground beneath his feet. His bare foot sunk into the mud. He exhaled and brought his other foot down.

"Count to one-hundred. Start counting when we restart the engines. Do not take off your cover before then. If you do, we will know." A heavy object landed on the ground next to him. "Good luck, recruit."

Austin nodded. The engine roared to life and Austin began his countdown. Water splashed around him as the boat moved away. The boat’s engine faded in the distance by the time he counted to sixty. By eighty, the boat’s droning engine disappeared. Austin stood shivering in the midst of a chorus of insects, his feet sinking in the frigid mud.

At one-hundred, he slipped off the fabric covering his head with his shaking hands, half expecting this all to be a joke. As his eyes adjusted to the faint light, he realized it wasn't a joke. Not at all.

In the faint moonlight, dark outlines of trees reflected off the water. He squinted, but saw little other than the small, muddy island. Austin collapsed into the mud. So the Gauntlet was leaving him for dead in the swamp?

He smashed his fist into the mud. Seething, he took a deep breath. Think about it, he thought. Think this through. Don't lose your cool. They are expecting you to use your survival skills, right? Okay, wait until first light when you can take in your surroundings. You are safe for the moment. Try to relax.

He snorted. Yeah, relax.

He pulled his legs under his arms and rocked, trying to stay warm in nothing more than a T-shirt and his boxers.

The water stirred nearby. His eyes widened. Just a fish,
I'm sure. Not large enough to be an alligator.

It took an eternity for the sky to transition from pitch black to the dull blue of early morning. The stars winked out one by one and soon Austin studied his surroundings. Trees blocked his view on all sides, concealing the terrain beyond a dozen yards. Thick moss hung down from the trees like unruly hair and dipped into the water. Birds darted through the maze of trees with accuracy as if they memorized the location of each branch.

Austin looked to his tiny island, noticed a brown package in the dark mud. He frowned and then remembered the sound of something being dropped next to him before the boat left. 

Still shivering, Austin moved toward the package wrapped in brown paper and tied in silver twine. He loosened the twine and the paper revealed its contents. Austin sighed, relieved at the sight of his dark blue Tizona uniform, blue hat and school running shoes. He put on the clothing and zipped the one piece uniform to his neck. The chill remained.

A typed note sat at the bottom of the package next to a red cylindrical object like a large marker. Austin rubbed his hands together and grabbed it.

Recruit,

Your Gauntlet test has begun. Congratulations. You have undoubtedly found your Tizona uniform. This constitutes the only help you will receive from the school or the faculty.
Your ultimate goal in completing the Gauntlet is to return to campus without being caught. You are currently beginning day one of the test. By the end of day one, the faculty will begin searching the swamp for you. Using your training, you will elude them if possible and make your way to the school. No recruit in the history of Tizona has ever made it to campus. Perhaps you will be the first.
If at any time you feel you cannot proceed with the test or you feel your safety is in question, simply use the flare in the enclosed package and you will be picked up shortly. Points will be granted to you based on the amount of time you remain undetected, so use the flare wisely.
Best of luck, recruit.

Tizona staff

Austin stared at the note and read it a second time.

That's it? I'm supposed to sneak back to the school?

He glanced around at the swamp. He didn't even know where he was or what direction they had taken him.

He inhaled a deep breath of the musty, swamp air and released. Stay calm. If he will start being hunted by the end of the day, the first order of business should be ... what was it Sharkey had said?
If safety is a concern, find a secure location so you can to plan your next move. Try not to be in the open.

Right. Try not to be in the open when you're on a tiny island in the middle of the swamp. Yeah, okay.

He turned around. A cluster of trees grew from the swamp twenty yards from his island. Perhaps there would be land there and he could take a little time to figure out what to do next. Bending down, he pulled a rotted stick from the ground and part of it crumbled in his hands. He thrust the stick into the water and hit the muddy floor. The water was only about two feet deep.

Guess it was time for walk.

*****

Trudging across the swamp, the mushy bottom ripped at his shoes with each step. He took his time, unsure if he would be able to find his shoe if the swamp claimed it. By the time he reached the group of trees, the sun had ascended into the sky. It had to be midmorning by now and his stomach growled during his trek.

His guess had been correct: a patch of dry land was in the center of the trees. Dropping the walking stick to the ground, he hurried to the land and collapsed on his back. He stared into the blue sky and caught his breath. Dragging his feet through the muck had been a workout on an empty stomach. He fought back hunger and focused, wishing he slept with granola bars in his boxers.

He chuckled at the thought and leaned back into the mud. His body ached. The reality of the current situation fell over him. In a few hours, the Tizona staff would start hunting for him as part of this game. He had to figure out what direction would lead him to the campus so he could win this test. The boat had turned so many times. He played it back in his head. They had started traveling south, hadn't they? Then took a right, east, left, right and spun around in a circle. Or was that wrong?

Austin lifted his head off the ground and dropped to the mud. He repeated the action over and over again.
Think! Everything depends on you remembering this!

He sighed after several minutes. He got lost his first day in high school between third and fourth period. How did he expect to find the Tizona campus? Why couldn't he have gotten accepted to a normal school instead of this cult in the middle of a swamp that thought it was West Point? Why did everything in his life have to be so hard? He hurled his walking stick into the brush and fell back into the dirt.

He closed his eyes, the sunlight warming his face.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. The sun had moved and hid behind the trees on his tiny island. He wiped his face and the drool trailing down his cheek. How long had he been asleep?

Austin stood and stretched. He shook his head. Throwing a tantrum in the middle of the swamp wouldn't help anything. He had done worse jobs at the fruit stand. He remembered one Halloween when a few hundred pounds of pumpkins had rotted at the bottom of a truck. The orange goo transformed into a casserole of gray mold and dull orange topped with a dose of scurrying maggots. The cleanup resulted in one of the worst afternoons in his life, complete with a wretched shovel and sopping wet work gloves. He could never go back to that job. Ever.

He shook the memory and focused.