A bullet flew out of Louis' pistol barrel, landing on the last target before it disappeared. Louis is relieved. Fortunately, this second try did not randomly generate a target next to Clara.
Still, Clara is still fuming that they had to try twice, not giving Louis any good faces as they left the course.
Sean gave Louis a concerned look as he prepared to enter the course with Giorgio, the 2 loading up their HK-416A5 rifles and Glock 19 pistols.
"Begin!" yelled Herbert…
(5 hours later)
"I love working for Uncle Sam!" sang Louis as he ran.
The cadets are on a simple 4km jog, affectionately called by the instructors as the "break time" after the live-fire exercise.
Sean and Ariel ran next to Louis. Sean is amused that Louis is singing the USMC running song, true to his US Marines roots.
Yet the other 58 cadets do not appreciate it. Louis Fletcher had been collectively agreed by the majority of the cadets to be the weakest one in the bunch, a true "scraper", one that barely scraps past thanks to barely passing and staying above the failing line.
"Lets me know just who I am!" sang Louis.
"1,2,3,4, United States Marine—"
"SHUT UP!" roared instructor Maia.
Louis' lips froze.
"Such heroic nonsense, is this the best the crayon-easters have to offer?" sneered another American Lita cadet.
Louis bit his lip. It's one thing to be mocked by foreigners, but to hear it from another American? That stung more than he would admit.
"You leave my beloved corps out of your mouth!" retorted Louis. "I saved your life in the pool—"
"Says the French speaking Cajun hillbilly who shot his partner!" laughed Erika.
The cadets laughed. Sean and Ariel looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable.
Louis turned behind to Clara, wanting her to say something.
Clara looked right past him and ran forward, overtaking him.
"I'm sorry…" he muttered after Clara.
He ran in silence, completely losing his rigour, now looking more like a sad dolphin.
"1,2,3,4. I LOVE THE MARINE CORPS!" sang Sean with pride all of a sudden, picking up where Louis left off.
"Sean…" muttered Louis, stunned.
"MY CORPS!" sang Ariel with a slight cutesy voice.
"YOUR CORPS!" sang Sean, nudging Louis.
"Our Corps?" sang Louis hesitantly.
"MARINE CORPS!" sang Sean and Ariel in unison, as if they had been grunts for their whole lives, even though they have never step foot in a Marine boot camp.
Clara ignored the trio behind her.
She kept running, breath controlled, pace unwavering, sweat soaking into her uniform.
Number 101 is tougher than granite. The joke the instructors made echoed in her mind. If they thought that was praise, they were wrong.
"Granite cracks. I won't," she thought.
She would make Tier 1, or leave South Africa in a body bag. There was no third option.
After the run ended the Sun had set. The cadets are now at an obstacle course.
Ariel crouched down into a half-body prone, lying on the left side of her body, keeping the right side of her body raised and holding on to her gun, crawling under a barbed wire net while bullets fired from Herbert's FN Minimi light machine gun whizzed past her head in regular burst fires.
"Psst," she laughed internally. "There is nothing hard about this, so basic."
Sean and the rest of the cadets then followed after Ariel, crawling.
"Hurry up!" roared Franz, standing next to Herbert. "Even my grandma is faster than you!"
Sean continued crawling, feeling that something is amiss.
"Strange, those bullets do not sound like simunation rounds at all…" he thought.
Just then, a bullet whizzed past his head and smashed into a tree bark beside the course, leaving a hole. Sean immediately realized to his shock what was amiss.
"Holy sh*t it's live ammunition!" he exclaimed.
This realisation quickly sent panic into the cadets, after all, they are being fired upon with live rounds.
"Keep your heads low!" yelled Ariel, reassuring them, continuing to charge forward, fearless. Clara pushed on behind her with determination that cannot be stopped by the metal slugs of death above them.
Bullets cracked overhead, and explosions churned the earth.
Clara's cheek was pressed into the mud, a stone digging into her collarbone. Her helmet had slipped slightly, one eye smeared with dirt, but she did not stop.
Her arms pulled, her legs kicked, inch by inch.
Her breath was ragged. Her whole body screamed. But she didn't whimper.
She growled.
Another explosion hit to her left—dirt rained over her—but she kept moving.
Behind her, someone cried out. She didn't look back.
Clara did not know what this section is intended to do, nor does she care. All she knew was this: She is not quitting. Not tonight. Not ever.
"Scared of live ammo? I suggest you all quit!" yelled Maia. Herbert had emptied his 100 round belt and is reloading. Reza, who has been standing behind Herbert, then aimed his SIG 516 rifle and fired above the cadets in 3 round bursts, ensuring no break in shooting.
"ANYONE QUITTING?!" asked Franz.
"Never quitting!" roared Clara in return.
Herbert restarted shooting. "LOOK AT HOW PATHETIC YOU'ALL ARE!" yelled Franz. "Nanami! Rig it!"
Soon explosions erupted around the cadets, immersing them further into the environment of a battlefield and further adding stress onto the cadets.
The cadets cleared the barbed wire course, fortunately no one was hit by the bullets. They then started the next segment, which included jumping over barriers and crawling rope ladders. Amid explosions, the cadets toiled their way through.
Upon reaching their final destination, all of the cadets collapsed, from both fatigue and real fear.
A few whistles from the instructors prompted them to stand up again, falling in.
Franz glared at the cadets, then turned to Nanami. "Anyone leaving?"
Nanami looked at her score list that had been automatically sorted by the AI on her tablet, scrolling down. Her eyes are fixed to the tablet with a kind of strange grace, as if she is reading a collection of love letters from her suitors instead of a namelist.
"Number 34!" she reported.
Number 34 staggered out, from both fatigue and the emotional damage of being eliminated despite already trying her best and holding on.
Louis did not look at her, already feeling some stares on him. He knows that the other cadets have another number in their minds that they want the instructors to call out.
42
Nanami directed her to the flag pole, which number 34 put down her number tags and helmets at. Finally, the willpower that has been holding her on is gone, and she collapsed, fainting. Medics on standby around the course immediately carried her away on stretchers. Nanami gave a sympathetic salute as Number 34 is brought away.
(An hour later, girl's dorm)
"So, how long till they start giving Number 42 a Nerf gun?" laughed Erika.
Clara did not respond, but there is a clear half-smile on her face.
"Hey, cut it. That's mean to Louis," defended Ariel. Vera too shot Erika a frown.
Erika snorted. "Did you 2 get dropped on the head when you were born?" she asked, looking at Ariel and Vera incredulously.
"My brain is fine Tovarisch, thank you," said Vera.
"I am just thinking maybe he needs help, not mockery," said Ariel.
"Help doesn't fix incompetence," retorted Clara. "Would you be relaxed if someone almost killed you?"
"I wouldn't call him a killer," said Ariel, folding her arms.
"I didn't. I said almost," said Clara. "And 'almost' is enough when it comes to combat. Almost gets you dead. Almost gets your team killed."
"You know he's not doing this on purpose," said Ariel.
"That's the problem," sighed Clara, sitting up from bed. "He's like a teddy bear that breaks the soju bottle every time he walks into the room. Soft. Harmless. But always… ruining something. And every time I think maybe he's getting better… smash."
"Clara, I get it. But he's not dead weight. He just needs someone to believe he can be better," said Ariel.
"I don't agree it is fair either, but I think that it is more unfair for people of talent and skill like you 2 to be washed out because of him, or worse," said Clara.
"Awww," said Erika with mock sarcasm, head-patting Ariel who is in the bunk below her gently, fingers scraping her 4 dragon horns. "You really are a sweet cupcake, a perfect waifu."
"On that topic," she said, her tone changing. "You know what I find funny?"
"This better not be another Louis joke—" said Vera.
"No. This time it's about Saint Sean," Erika smiled, like a wolf who smells blood.
"What are you saying?" asked Vera.
"I'm saying Sean might be the real reason that teddy bear hasn't been expelled. Not every cadet is lucky enough to have a veteran believing in him."
"He still passed," retorted Ariel.
"LOL, barely," corrected Erika. "What is that word they use in the Marines again?"
"Scraper" said Clara nonchalantly.