Proving Ground by Ryan L. T. & Shea Brian Christopher

Author:Ryan, L. T. & Shea, Brian Christopher [Ryan, L. T. & Shea, Brian Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, thriller
Amazon: B08DDH3NQR
Goodreads: 54638671
Publisher: Liquid Mind Media
Published: 2020-07-20T07:00:00+00:00

“This is it,” Chucky said as he packed his ruck. “It’s like twenty miles or somethin’ like that, right?”

“It’ll feel like a lot longer. But, yes, in answer to your question, it’s typically a twenty-mile forced march. But depending who’s leading, it can go much farther.” She added two MREs, or Meal Ready-To Eat, to her pack. “They’ll tell you it’s got to be forty-five pounds, but I always usually add five extra. I don’t want to weigh in light at the end.”

Chucky nodded nervously and added more from his pile of gear.

“Remember, the Trek is about keeping yourself moving forward. A few hours from now, you won’t be able to keep track of distance. Darkness will mess with you, too. Just move until they tell you it’s over,” Hatch said, cinching her ruck closed and standing.

Bennett was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t been around since she bested his attempts at derailing her during the Nasty Nick evolution. She wasn’t convinced he’d left Camp Mackall though. And if he had any other tricks up his sleeve, tonight would be his last opportunity to deploy them.

“Time to move out!” the cadre called.

Hatch shouldered her ruck. She had the advantage of knowing what to expect, but one thing was certain, this Selection course proved to be anything but predictable. Without further guidance, she began moving along the dirt-covered roadway with Chucky and the remaining candidates in her class.

The sun was setting in the distance and the temperature had already begun its rapid descent. But their constant movement would keep the cold at bay.

There was little in the way of talking among the group. Conversation required energy and every ounce was conserved for the long walk.

Hatch created tasks to occupy her mind as she moved. Every hundred steps she would switch position of her rifle. It was like the slow ticking of the clock. Each transition signified the end’s eventual approach. And it worked to ease the strain on the tendons along her elbow. Although, at this point in Selection, every part of her ached. It was hard to discern one pang of discomfort from another.

Chucky stopped to adjust his pack and fidget with his boot. Hatch continued to move forward, but after several hundred paces without the man wheezing alongside her, she became concerned and went back to check on him.

In the dark, it took Hatch a bit to find him. Chucky was slumped on top of his ruck in a culvert. She heard him before seeing him. He was snoring loudly.

Hatch gently kicked him in his butt. It took several attempts before her efforts roused him.

“Mom, I ate my homework. But the dog is in bed,” he muttered incoherently.

Oh great, he’s a mess, she thought. If the assessors noticed, they might send him to medical. Hatch bent low and flicked him hard on the base of his earlobe.

The stinging blow had the intended effect, and he popped upright. Looking around as his mind came into focus, he wiped at the line of drool connected from the side of his face to the top of his ruck.

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