The next few days passed; Felix coughed so much he could barely talk. He popped a dry cough lozenge every couple of hours. The cold medicine tasted horrible, but eased his sore throat.
In bed, he watched government-approved war films about why he needed to fight. Few channels were available on the flat screen television that hung on the wall. Felix was used to watching the same movie repeatedly.
The curtains parted. Felix paused the film with the remote control on his bedside table. His head turned to look at the doctor in the white lab coat.
The doctor smiled. "I'm discharging you. You're well enough to train with your comrades. St. Hunter is expecting you at the target range."
"My throat still hurts," Felix croaked.
The doctor shook his head. "You can't stay in bed. It's been a week, and you've missed a lot of training. You've got target practice."
Felix sighed. Preferring boring movies to drills. The doctor left, and Felix got dressed. He left the infirmary, head down, dreading Sgt. Hunter's harsh training.
Outside, dummies were tied on wooden poles. Five hundred men stood watching Sgt. Hunter.
Fox ran to Felix on the track, beaming. "Felix! How're you?"
Felix's heart warmed; it was good to see his friends again.
"I could be better. I wish I could go home." Felix shrugged.
"We've missed you. I'm happy, you're back with us-"
"Shut up, sixteen and one hundred." Sgt. Hunter yelled. "No more blabbering. You're here to train."
Sgt. Hunter gave a speech about gun safety before target practice. "Be careful with the guns, we'd have an idiot accidentally shoot himself with a rifle."
Felix cringed; he wanted to give Sgt. Hunter a good kick to his balls. How dare he call Logan an idiot. Felix should make him wash his mouth out with soap.
They went to the barrels on the grass for their air rifles. Felix stood beside Kip, behind a red ribbon for safety. Kip shot at a dummy with his rifle. The dummy wore a Technations soldier's uniform and an ugly mask. It was tied up to a pole. A bullet drove into the dummy's head, and chunks of plastic flew everywhere.
Kip turned to Felix. "Did you see that? Perfect shot!"
Felix dropped his rifle, his hands trembling, thinking of Logan's corpse slumped over on the bench.
Fox approached Felix. "Are you okay?" He gently squeezed Felix's shoulder.
Felix shook his head. "No." Tears trickled down onto his red cheeks. Sgt Hunter stormed over.
Sgt. Hunter screamed, "Take your hands off him." Reluctantly, Fox did as Sgt. Hunter ordered and took a step back. Fox's blue eyes were full of concern.
Sgt. Hunter raised his hand high in the air and slapped Felix across the face, quick as a finger snap.
"Grow up. You're a yellow-belly."
Felix's face turned red. "No, I don't piss on myself."
Sgt. Hunter slapped him. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Felix stepped backwards, trembling. He shook his head, "Nothing."
Felix stroked his sore cheek from the hard slap. He picked up the gun and held it awkwardly. He missed hitting the dummy by a long shot. They spent hours shooting at the dummies. Felix's aim didn't improve. He was going to be a dead man on the battlefield because he couldn't shoot a gun to save his life. His chances of surviving war were about as good as a dinosaur surviving an asteroid impact.
Sgt. Seth yelled, "It's time for lunch."
Felix went to the cafeteria and sat with Kip, Nova and Fox.
Nova said, "Due to the rising cost of fuel, Lolita has changed the age limit rules for conscription."
Felix beamed inside like a rainbow. "Really?"
Kip nodded. "Yes. If you're twenty-two and older, you're no longer required to go to war."
Felix slammed his fist on the table. Nova's eyes widened. "Damn it! That means I'm still required to go to fucking war! I want to go home."
Nova suggested, "Maybe you can lie about your age?"
Kip shook his head. "That won't work. They already know how old Felix is from his government ID. I wish Lolita weren't a penny pincher when it comes to war. We're stuck with crappy guns when we're fighting against Technations."
"What? So, we're screwed when we're out there. Unless we're given better guns to protect ourselves! I don't think I've a chance of surviving in the war, not when I'm slow at running." Felix's mouth dropped.
"Felix, if you work harder at the training, you'll improve." Nova chipped in.
Sgt. Seth yelled, "Lunch is over! We're done with target practice. It's time to go to the track."
They left the cafeteria and marched for half an hour before they reached the track.
Sgt. Hunter instructed, "Everyone runs with a backpack."
They headed to the pile of backpacks on the grass. Felix asked Fox, "What's in the bag?"
Fox replied, "Rocks. They add more daily to make us stronger."
Felix tried to lift the bag and dropped it on the dirt. His arms hurt because the bag was heavy.
Kip offered, "I can help you." He put the backpack on Felix. Felix's back ached because the backpack weighed two hundred pounds. As usual, Felix lagged.
Sgt. Seth yelled, "Sixteen! Move your ass!"
Felix groaned, but ran faster, tripping on a rock and bumping into the man ahead.
"OWWH!" The man screamed, face-planting. Felix's face crashed into the man's backpack, and he yelped.
"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Felix quickly stood.
"Damn you. My arm is killing me." He'd rolled up his sleeve, revealing a red mark on his forearm.
Sgt. Hunter approached him and sneered, "Forty-five, get off your ass! Start running!"
Felix interrupted, "We should take him to the infirmary-"
"Shut up! Turn around. Start running! You're an embarrassment to the army!"
Felix ran until death felt like an inch away.
Sgt. Hunter blew his whistle. "That's enough. Everyone, go to the rain lockers. You all stink like pigs."
The shower was quick. Felix didn't have enough time or soap to scrub all the dirt off his body.
********
Sgt. Seth approached Sgt. Hunter, who sat slouched in a plastic chair at the table in the employee room.
"I'm worried about the recruits," Seth said. "I asked the command for an extension—more time to train them. They shut it down."
Hunter didn't look up. "They'll learn to suck it up," he muttered. "They always do." He took a slow sip from his coffee mug. "Besides, the Cascadian army is backing us. That should even the odds."
"Yes… about that," Seth said, hesitating just long enough to signal bad news. "I was just informed the Ossarian army has officially allied with the Technate."
"What?" Hunter jerked forward, spraying coffee across the table. "Those fucking traitors!" He slammed the mug down. "I can't believe they were ever part of this country."
"That war didn't end well," Seth said grimly. "Too many casualties on our side. We were forced to surrender."
Hunter straightened, jaw clenched. "This time is different. Back then, we didn't have the Ossarians fighting alongside us—"
"The Ossarians are using the same outdated weapons we are," Seth cut in. "I don't think Lolita understands how weak the army really is."
"Sgt. Seth, you worry too much." Tara stepped into the room, her uniform neatly pressed. "We'll have to make do with what little time we have to train them."
"Have you seen them out there?" Seth snapped. "One recruit barely crawled out of the infirmary. I swear my grandma with a bad hip could outrun him."
"Then the poor bastard is going to learn—first lesson of war—bullets don't wait for the weak." Sgt. Hunter mocked.
Seth's face flushed red. "You don't care if they make it or not. You're already writing their names in the dirt."
"War isn't for the weak," Hunter said flatly. "In this country, survival comes before rules."
"What do you mean by that?" Seth tilted his head to the side.
Hunter's eyes hardened. "How do you think I became a sergeant? Schooling isn't cheap."
"You didn't steal, did you?" Tara's eyes widened. "I heard a recruit mention the Venner store break‑in."
"Mind your own damn business."Hunter snapped. "Why don't you focus on training the recruits—actual drills—instead of wasting time on pointless geography lessons?"
"My lessons are necessary. You can't defend yourself against an enemy you can't identify," Tara said coldly.
"It shouldn't take a genius to figure out—different uniform, different side," Hunter chipped in.
"The Ossarian uniform isn't the same as Intermarium's," Tara shook her head. "Now that I know they've teamed up with Technate, I have to train the recruits on their dress code—"
"Not happening! Deployment's this Saturday!" Hunter yelled.
"Just what we needed—the Ossarians join the Technate, and now training is impossible—" Tara muttered.
"I'm telling you, this was deliberate," Seth snapped. "Short notice puts us at a disadvantage."
"They'll learn fast—or become nothing more than targets," Hunter said coolly. "Recruit Sixteen's already one in my class."
"He wouldn't have seen the infirmary if you hadn't thrown him into an ice bath," Seth shot back.
Hunter didn't flinch. "Laziness gets punished. Better it happens here than on the battlefield." He checked his wristwatch. "Time to get back to drills. They'd better be learning—or they'll die before this war's over—and I won't be the one lying in the dirt."
He left, the door swinging shut behind him. Seth stood there simmering, every hour feeling like a battle he was already losing.