bologna sandwich is gourmet, but compared to the poison they try to feed us at the cafeteria, it is exquisite. Knowing I am able to help my friend and his family in their time of need gives me hope that change can happen if we would only unite and stand against this monstrosity known as the State.
Unfortunately, the high of helping my friend leaves me ill-prepared for what I am about to face during Young Army training.
As I dress in my workout clothes, Sergeant Epps comes up to me, places his arm on my shoulder, and says, “John, someone is here to see you today. If you do well this could be very good for you.” What this means exactly and how it will be good for me, I have no idea, but I decide to pull out all the stops for the man in a green Army hat and sunglasses who sits in the bleachers with a clipboard. I run faster, beating the school’s all-time record. I run what we call the gauntlet, which is nothing but a fancy name for an obstacle course. It is made up of climbing ropes, crawling through tunnels, and scaling walls, all at a record pace—for the sake of this unknown stranger. For some reason I feel compelled to do well. I push myself to do more sit-ups and work harder beyond anything I have ever done before.
Then comes the unexpected, “Okay, gentleman, today we are going to do that special program the State has just implemented, but this time you will be going against some special guests!” I suddenly feel tense deep within my breast, and my heart rate starts to go up. I know this is not some sort of game but the final exam. For what and to what end? I don’t know, but I know that our lives will be changed after today.
“I would like to introduce you to a specialized group of State soldiers known as Steel.” The Sarge states this with complete calmness, but with an underlying tone that lets me know this group is not ordinary. The man with the clipboard moves from the bleachers to stand on the field with Sergeant Epps. At first, as we peer around, we see no one; but then out from behind the storage house on the school grounds we see a group of ten men appear. At first, they look as normal as any men I have seen, but as they approach that changes completely. They are in perfect form, marching in unison with one another. Their builds are muscular and in their eyes is a nothingness. Not like no one is home, but like a deep pit of darkness. They care nothing for the world, only to serve the State.
“Men, these men will be your enemy today! You will be in charge of defending the State from these men! The exercise will not stop until either the enemy has been neutralized or you have been defeated!” The Sergeant’s voice echoes off the empty bleachers as no one replies, fully understanding that this was not going to be fun.
“Sarge?” David Patlow mutters.
“Something wrong, David?” Sergeant Epps asks. The man with the clipboard standing a little bit away from Sergeant Epps adjusts his sunglass and cap.
“Are they not going to put on the special gear?” David asks, seeing we outnumber the Steel group 2.8 to 1. David understands we are just high schoolers but we are one of the best groups on the continent, if not the world. But I know better than to ask such an ill-advised question. Something is off about these guys. Something I don’t want to find out.
“No, son, they are the State’s most elite group, and they are here to see if any of you are ready for the next step! I wouldn’t be so worried about them as you should be for yourself, because today we are going to find out what each of you is made of! Men, the objective is simple—neutralize the Enemy. If you are taken down, knocked out, or tap out, then you will be eliminated from this exercise. But I assure you the Team Steel has no intention of doing anything of the sort. To make things fair, we are only going to have three of Team Steel participate in this exercise. Which means you will have an
Learning to Kill: Stories