The boy scuttled over to the table indicated to him as Sarge pulled out another name. “Flight Stingray.” A heavy sigh, he shook his head. “Someone’s having a laugh with me, right?”

  Flight stepped forward and Sarge already looked exhausted by the process. He spoke in monotone. “You’re in team Phoenix.”

  As the names were drawn, the cadets moved to their team tables. Minotaur, Dragon, Bigfoot, Chupacabra, Yeti, Cyclops, and Phoenix. One table remained empty. If the intake continued to increase, no doubt they’d find another stupid name to give to a new team.

  After well over three-quarters of the names had been drawn from the bags, Spike finally heard his. “William Johnson.” He stepped forward and glanced over at Hugh, who sat at team Minotaur’s table. The boy’s mouth had fallen slightly open. Maybe he should start introducing himself as William to save the confusion.

  Sarge pointed at a table. “Team Minotaur.”

  Spike walked over and sat down next to Hugh, who beamed a smile at him. Matilda remained standing against the wall.

  Pulling the next name out, Sarge sighed and rolled his eyes. “The golden boy, Ranger Hopkins. Team Bigfoot.”

  Thank God he wasn’t in Spike’s team. Just one recruit from each team made it through to the trials. It would be better to compete against him then.

  After a few more rounds, they’d gotten down to just two cadets, and team Minotaur still had a space. Thankfully, team Bigfoot didn’t. Spike’s pulse quickened to look over at Matilda. Please let it be her.

  Sarge fumbled with a piece of paper. “And the final member of team Minotaur.”

  His throat dry, a nauseating rock in his stomach, Spike drew short and rapid breaths. While spinning his dad’s skull ring on his finger, he stared at his love. She didn’t look back.

  Sarge cleared his throat and paused for what felt like a lifetime before he said, “Olga Vasquez.”

  Chapter 32

  The city hadn’t been extended for years, which meant the dorms would have remained in the same spot for that time too. A steady stream of hard-worked teenagers living there should have made the place stink, but when Spike entered the building, the fresh lavender scent caught him off guard.

  Lined up in the small corridor in front of the three bedrooms, Spike had the other two boys from team Minotaur on his left and the three girls on his right. They all stared at their leader in front of them, a line of broadswords on the wall behind him. He hadn’t told them his name yet. In fact, he hadn’t told them anything.

  When Spike looked at the girls again, his stomach tightened. None of them were to blame for not being Matilda, but that didn’t make him hate the fact any less. It would take a great effort not to resent them for it.

  The man in front of them appeared to be about the same age as Sarge, but unlike Sarge, he wore his years well. Clean shaven, he had a thick head of brown hair. Dressed in an immaculate combat uniform, Spike could see this man knew how to iron a crease down the front of his trousers. Despite the attention of all the recruits already on him, he still felt the need to drive his hands together in a loud clap to get their attention. This man did things by the book.

  “Right, boys and girls, you can call me Bleach. I’m your team leader. As you can see, my barracks are spotless, and I expect them to stay that way. You make your bed every day, you sweep and mop the floors every day, and you clean the bathrooms every day. I don’t want to have to live in your stink and mess. If you follow my rules, I’ll have much less of a reason to be pissed off with you.

  “First, I want you all to introduce yourselves. Hopefully we’ll all be here for the next month at least, so you need to get to know one another.” Pointing at Hugh, Bleach said, “You.”

  Stepping forwards, his face glowing red, Hugh cleared his throat. When he scratched his cheek, Spike saw his hand shake. The mole of a boy introduced himself to the wooden floor. “My name’s Hugh Rodgers. I’ve been working in the science lab for the past several years, helping research towards an antidote for the disease.” After stepping back into line, he kept his attention down and wrung his large hands.

  The next boy stepped forwards. A slim lad, he stood about five feet ten inches and had slicked-back hair, high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. Spike noticed all the girls look at him. “I’m Max Slink. I’ve been in school until now. My parents are in construction. We’re hoping we can start building two-storey houses and taller once the kiln’s output increases. It’ll really help with the space issues in the city. If I’m not the next protector, I plan to return to my district to help with that work.”

  The next protector! Spike stared at Max. If he wanted to get the apprenticeship, he’d have to want it more than Spike. It took for Bleach to clear his throat for Spike to realise he should be stepping forward. While looking into his leader’s eyes, a grey tint dulling the green of them, he said, “I’m Spike.”

  Bleach raised his large right hand to halt Spike and leaned in as if trying to hear him better. “You’re who?”

  “Spike.”

  “Spike?”

  The silence hung in the air and everyone stared at Spike. His throat tightened and he felt Max watching him more than the others. He drew a deep breath before speaking in a low murmur, “I’m William. William Johnson.”

  Disgust twisted Bleach’s features and he shook his head. “You ain’t a protector yet, boy. Spike’s a name you’ve got to earn.”

  As Spike stepped back into line, he looked across at Max. They stared at one another. He had no beef with him, but the boy had better believe he’d earn his moniker.

  The shortest girl of the three stepped forward next. She stood just over five feet tall. Despite her size, she didn’t seem intimidated by the occasion. What Spike had initially seen as fear in her pale skin appeared to simply be a part of her complexion. A wide smile, she dipped the slightest bow at Bleach. “I’m Olga Vasquez.” When she stepped back into the line, she looked at Spike and smiled. Her curves and confidence made him look back.

  The next girl: “I’m Elizabeth Troy.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “If I get through this, I’m going to work in research in the labs.”

  And finally: “I’m Heidi Sparx and I’m going to work in textiles.”

  Clapping his hands again, Bleach grinned. “Okay, so now the introductions are over, I’m going to explain what these next six months are all about. As you know, you’ll be helping extend the city walls. We’ve all seen the diseased.” He paused to look at Spike. “Some of us much closer up than others.”

  They all nodded.

  “Well, it’s different when you’re outside those walls. There isn’t anyone to look after you out there, especially when they come at you in a swarm. The diseased might look weak and frail, but they’re savages. They’re stronger than you, faster than you, and what we find out too many times when we run national service is they’re smarter than a lot of you too. Their teeth are their weapons and they’re masters of them. They’ll have your throat out before you can blink. The only thing I can promise is that at the end of these six months, there will be less of you here than there is now.”

  When Spike heard Hugh gulp, he looked over to see his lips moving as if he were silently praying.

  “The first month is full-on training. This is where we’re the strictest. As of now, you’re on a curfew. You have to be in bed by twenty-one hundred hours, and lights go out at twenty-one thirty. Once you get through training, you’ll be given more freedom. Until then, you need to keep your head down and work hard. What you learn in this next month has the potential to keep you alive and, more importantly, to help you keep the team alive, so pay attention.”

  Maybe being away from Matilda wasn’t such a bad thing. If Spike had to make it through these next six months and then into the trials, he had to stay focused. Besides, Matilda had it in her to get through on her own. Were it not for Artan, he’d have put his money on her being the next protector.

  Looking along the line of cadets, Bleach raised his eyebrows. “Any questions?”

  Before Spike realised no one else had, he’d raised his hand. As much as he wanted to put it down, Bleach had already focused on him. “Yes?”

  Spike tugged at his collar as if it would help him lower his rapidly increasing body temperature. “Um …” Why did he raise his hand?

  “‘Um’ isn’t a question, William.”

  Spike dragged some of the lavender fresh air into his lungs and swallowed a hot gulp. “What do we have to do to qualify for the apprentice trials?”

  Watching his fellow cadets rather than Bleach, Spike saw Max suddenly focus on their leader. None of the others looked interested. Although, he couldn’t get a read on Olga.

  “What you do, boy, is you get your head down and think about it in six months’ time. For now, you need to be the best soldier you can be. The protectors’ apprenticeship will come around, don’t worry. Just make sure you’re still alive when it does. By doing that, you’ll have a good chance of getting in.”

  After straightening his uniform, Bleach looked at his group again. “Well, if that’s all?”

  Silence.

  “Okay. You have the next few hours to make yourself comfortable in your new dorms.” Bleach pointed at the door on his left—“That’s the boys’ room”—and then the one on his right—“and that one belongs to the girls. The one in the middle’s mine. I don’t do well with being woke up, just so we’re clear with that now. After dinner, we’ll turn in early because tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

  When Bleach left the dorm, Spike watched the girls go into their room. By the time he’d looked into the boys’ room, Hugh and Max had already moved off. He walked in to see Max throw his bag on one of the top bunks. “This is my bed.”

  Spike scoffed. “Very democratic.”

  “What did you say?”

  Not that he hadn’t already assessed him, but to make a show of it this time, Spike looked the boy up and down. Smaller and slimmer than him, there would only be one winner when it came to the apprenticeship. “It’s a bit of a dick move to take the bed you want without any discussion. What if we all want a top bunk?”

  When Max stepped forward, it halved the distance between them. “Well, it looks like you have a problem then. I called the top bunk first; you and Hugh can fight over the other one.”

  Grinding his jaw, Spike opened his mouth to speak, but Hugh cut him off.

  “I prefer the bottom.”

  “You sure?”

  While nodding, Hugh focused on his toes. “I don’t like heights.”

  Spike looked at Max again and the tension faded between them when Max smirked. A second later, they were both laughing.

  With a stamp on the wooden floor, Hugh put his hands on his hips as he looked from one of them to the other. “What’s so funny?”

  Looking first at the bunk bed and then back to his short friend, Spike shook his head. “Well, it’s hardly high off the ground.”

  “It’s high enough. Besides, it’s more of a problem when I’m sleeping. I have the worst nightmares if I’m high up.”

  “Whatever, Hugh. It works out for all of us, so that’s all that matters.” Dropping his bag on the floor by the second bunk, Spike kicked his shoes off and jumped up. Hugh slipped onto the bed beneath him.

  Lying on his back and with his hands behind his head, Spike stared up at the white ceiling and relaxed into the soft sheets. Maybe it would do him good to room with Max. He had to be comfortable competing with his peers.

  Just as he was starting to unwind, Hugh said, “So what do you think it will take to get into the apprenticeship trials?”

  Neither Spike nor Max replied, the silence hanging heavy between them.

  Finally, Max said, “I’m not sure, but I’d say hard work and keeping your head down.”

  Maybe he meant it as a dig, maybe not. Either way, Spike wouldn’t bite. Things could be worse. The next six months would be much harder if all the other cadets saw him as the one to beat. They’d see who remained standing when they got to the end of national service.

  Chapter 33

  Spike rested his weight on his knees and leaned forward as he dragged air into his tight lungs. Sweat burned his eyes. He could have held back in their warm-up and saved some of his energy, but, in light of his introduction to national service, he felt like he couldn’t give any less than one hundred percent. And while everyone focused on Ranger, he’d subtly show the leaders what he could do.

  The combined funk of many overworked bodies permeated the thick air in the hot gym. Another warm April day. The dining hall had seemed large from the inside, but the gym dwarfed it. At least twice the size, if not more.

  A red curtain ran along one of the walls. Only four teams had made it in so far: Minotaur, Dragon, Cyclops, and Yeti. Their leaders—Bleach, Tank, Ore, and Flame—stood in front of the curtain, talking to one another in hushed tones.

  Dressed in the red tracksuit of team Minotaur, Spike looked at the other recruits from the other teams. Dragon wore green, Cyclops blue, and Yeti white. It took several attempts, but when he finally caught Matilda’s eye, he dipped a nod at her. She returned a tight smile before looking down and straightening her green tracksuit. The teams didn’t mix, but he still raised a thumb in her direction. Was she okay? A furtive look at the team leaders by the curtain, she barely returned his gesture before slightly turning her back on him.

  Before Spike could get her attention again, a loud bang crashed into the main doors. Half-jumping, he spun around. The double doors had been kicked open and team Bigfoot strode in, Ranger in the lead.

  Stunned silence filled the room. Just over twenty recruits already there, they all watched the team’s bold entrance. The silence hung for a few seconds before a girl in team Cyclops said, “What the hell?”

  Even Ranger, with his straight back, broad chest, and confident swagger, couldn’t pull it off. Like all of the other teams, they wore identical tracksuits. How Spike would have loved to be a fly on the wall when they were given their gear.

  The stunned silence burst with the room erupting into laughter. A boy from team Yeti called out, “Team Skidmark has entered the building.”

  Although Ranger scanned the laughing faces for who’d said it, his eyes didn’t settle. He flushed red, clearly still trying to find the perpetrator while opening and closing his mouth. But he said nothing. What could he say? Especially as the other team leaders were also laughing at them.

  Although the other teams entered, it took for Sarge to walk through the double doors before the laughter died. He took the middle of the room, team Skidmark moving aside. “Right, you little wastes of space, this is day one of training. Today’s gonna be damn hard. This entire month is going to be damn hard. So be prepared. However, before we start, I have something to show you.” Sarge nodded at Bleach.

  Bleach grabbed a handful of the red curtain before pulling it aside to reveal a wall of glass about seven feet tall by about twenty feet wide. It gave them a view into two rooms of equal size, a vertical partition separating them. Both of the rooms were dark. They both appeared to be empty.

  Like everyone around him, Spike held his breath, putting pressure on his toes from leaning forward as if it would help him see better into the unknown.

  Sarge walked over to the glass, balled his right fist, and drove three heavy blows against it. Boom, boom, boom.

  The silence in the room damn near choked Spike, his throat turning dry and his pulse quickening.

  Next to him, Hugh’s voice wavered when he said, “What is this?”

  But nothing happened.

  The other cadets exchanged glances and shrugs. Had Sarge lost the plot?

  Sarge’s expression remained stony while he raised his fist again. A clenched jaw, he pounded against the glass a second time. Harder than before.

  Still nothing happened.

  Time seemed to stand still before Sarge finally turned to face the cadets. When he opened his mouth to speak, a shrill scream cut him off.

  The sound snapped Spike’s shoulders to his neck. He jumped backwards when he saw a diseased burst from the darkness. It slammed against the window face first. The sound went off like a bomb and the collision drove the creature back several wobbly steps before it fell into the darkness again. It left behind a splatter of blood the size of a fist.

  Silence hung in the room, Spike’s heart beating so hard he worried the others would hear it. Hugh shifted a step towards him. Any closer and their shoulders would have touched.

  Spike’s lungs tightened and his breaths quickened as he watched the creature appear again. He heard his own panicked breaths in his head and glanced to see if anyone else noticed. Everyone watched the diseased.

  Back on its feet, it stumbled on wobbly legs and shook its head as if it could clear its dizziness. It then roared again and charged. Spike jumped back another pace. The same loud connection of face against glass, it stumbled back. But it didn’t fall over this time.

  The moment he’d clearly been waiting for, Sarge flashed the cadets a crooked smile before he pushed his face close to the glass. A much gentler knock this time, he said, “This, boys and girls, is a diseased.” The diseased’s bleeding eyes flitted wildly as it looked at the recruits. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in on Spike and he wanted to turn away. He wanted to get out of there. It didn’t look like anyone else felt the same.

  A fierce lust for violence burned in the diseased’s crimson glare. Much slower this time, it pressed its face to the other side of the transparent wall as if trying to push through it. Its rotten lips splayed, showing its yellow teeth from where it opened and closed its jaw. Similar yellow teeth would have taken a bite from Spike had Ore not saved him. The sound of enamel against glass tormented him. It called to him as if mocking his fear.

  Sarge pulled away from the window. “You’ve all seen a diseased.” He looked at Spike. “Some of you from a closer perspective than others.”

 

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