So, once again, I've hit a delay in getting the next chapter out. Not my intention, but real life has been kicking me in the balls with a steel-toed boot lately. In mid-March, I was let go by the company that I worked at for fifteen years. So, I've been dealing with job searching, and also ending my lease and moving back into my mom's place while I seek employment elsewhere.

But, here's the latest. Despite everything that's been going on, I'm happy with it, and hope you all like it too.

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.


Chapter Fourteen: Team Building

Sunday, June 15th, 1997

For the first time since she'd started attending this school, Melanie had to use an alarm clock. Its shrill beep jolted her out of a sound sleep at five-thirty in the morning. Her first impulse was to hit the SNOOZE button, but she felt a hand close around her wrist when she was halfway there.

"Oh, no you don't," Kimberly muttered, her face buried in her pillow. "This is your punishment, not our punishment. So get up."

Melanie groaned, and turned off the alarm. "It's too early," the blonde girl muttered, even though outside, the sun was breaking over the tops of the evergreens.

"Exactly," her roommate said. "But you still better get your ass up. If you're late, you might get extra chores."

Melanie gave a small grunt, but in the end, she was already sour at the idea of doing work without getting paid. So she got up, went to the bathroom to throw some water on her face, changed into her school uniform, and started out towards the dining hall. When she passed Ms. Wallace's room, the older woman gave a polite nod, and said "good morning," since she was already aware of the reason the small blonde was up so early.

She arrived at the dining hall kitchens to find one other person already there: a stocky man with short gray hair and a burn scar on his right cheek, dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt and chef's apron chopping fruits at a gleaming metal table. It appeared cold and sterile, but then most of the décor in this kitchen did, reminding Melanie more of a hospital.

The man looked up from his work when he noticed the small girl standing on the other side of the table. "Zhdraviya zhelayu," Nikolai spoke with a curt nod, and a Russian accent.

"Um... ditto," Melanie said, though she didn't understand a word of that language. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the Head Chef and Manager of the Dining Hall ever using it in conversation, but then again, Nikolai spoke very little, usually not more than three words and then only in response to questions from the faculty.

"You are Melanie?" He asked, though that was not a question. "The headmistress told me to expect you."

"Yup," she said with a nod. "And maybe… you could mention it to her that I'm here five minutes early?"

He seemed not to hear her request, and instead gave a sour frown, noticing how Melanie was dressed. "Tomorrow, dress more casual," he told her. "Wear something you can get dirty."

She didn't like the implications of that, and was now really regretting she'd be working for free. "Um, sure, okay," she managed to mutter. In truth, she was finding his whole demeanor off-putting, despite the fact that he was sporting an amusing tattoo on his right forearm. It reminded Melanie of something from a comic book, a logo of what looked like a bat (though she wasn't sure) on a circular yellow field with a blue border, surrounded by some words in Russian. And yet… Melanie didn't feel like laughing at it.

She tried to lighten the mood by saying: "So… what's up for today? Need help chopping stuff?"

"Nyet," he answered her. "I know you like knives, devochka. And this is supposed to be punishment. We find something else for you to do."

Now she couldn't help but let a little sarcasm come through. "Oh, that's nice of you."

He pointed with the tip of his chef's knife at a nearby closet. "First, get an apron. A clean one. There's some in there that will fit you. Then, you'll need something to cover your hair."

"I got that," Melanie said, and pulled her brown bandanna out from where she'd tucked it in the belt of her pleated skirt. Silently, she thanked herself for remembering to grab it, as wearing a net would have been far more embarrassing. After fixing it in place and getting an apron, she was standing in front of the table once more.

Nikolai, who had resumed chopping, looked up at her and gave a nod of approval. "Good. Now, empty the grease traps on top of stove. There is a container marked GREASE you will need to pour them in. Do not dump them down the sink. After they are empty, wash and dry them."

Despite having never worked a stove, Melanie located the traps easily enough on the over-sized flattop. They'd been used the night before to prep the meat for this morning's breakfast… and they stank. Melanie had never smelled anything like it, and it reminded her of rotten beef, shoes and mold.

"Grease container is by the exit," Nikolai called to her. "Do not spill, or you will have to mop."

"I'll mop you, Boris," Melanie muttered under her breath, staggering to the other end of the kitchen, holding the trap at arm's length and trying not to throw up. But, when she got to the over-sized container, the smell coming from that was more concentrated, and the small blonde gagged a little, which made her drop her burden. Thankfully, it landed right-side-up, so less than a third of it spilled. But Melanie still had to mop it up after she'd managed to empty the traps.

Then she had to scrub those traps out in the industrial-sized sink. She rolled up the sleeves of her uniform, managed to find some gloves, and also the squeeze bottle of dish soap. She was no stranger to washing dishes, having done it in the orphanage, and it hadn't gotten much better since then. It was one of the reasons that whenever she signed up for chores, she deliberately avoided the kitchen. Which was probably why she hadn't thought to wear more casual clothes today. She'd been trying to forget what a pain this was. But after splattering herself with water for the tenth time during the rinsing process, she vowed to remember to wear something more comfortable tomorrow.

After the traps were cleaned and dried, Melanie reported back to Nikolai. By now, other members of the kitchen staff were reporting for work, and were helping to chop fruit for the salad, and also to cook eggs and get everything prepped the night before warmed up for the students and faculty. Nikolai said to her: "Go out to the dining hall, and set places. You know how to set?"

"Yeah," she answered, remembering one of her foster homes.

"I leave you to it, then. Someone will help you. Have all places set before seven."

Setting the tables, though no less boring, was at least better than washing dishes. By the time that was done, she needed to help the staff set out the serving tables, cans of Sterno, and the large serving trays. Sadly, she was not given the chance to light any Sterno, even though she had her lighter in her vest pocket. Then she had to help set out the non-cooked buffet items, such as cereal, the fruit salad Nikolai had been preparing all morning, milk, juice, yogurt, and all the other options that Joan felt were essential for a healthy breakfast for her girls.

She was halfway through this when the first of the students started to arrive. Most of them ignored her, which suited the small blonde just fine. A few of them snickered at the sight of her wearing an apron, but Melanie ignored them, not wanting to prolong her punishment. When Regina came down the line, she reached for one of the bottles of milk to pour some on her cereal, then while staring Melanie straight in the eyes, dropped the bottle on the floor, where it shattered, sending a burst of white over the tiles.

"Oops! Butterfingers," she said with a smirk. "Guess you gotta clean that, runt." Then she turned and started off towards her usual place where the other bitches already sat.

Melanie took a deep breath and did her best to remember the post-Field Day cookout, how she'd brought Regina down a peg in front of all the other girls. Her amber eyes flicked over to the spot where she usually sat, and saw her roommate sitting there chowing down on a sandwich she'd made herself using eggs, a bagel and a sausage patty. Kimberly smiled and flashed her a thumbs-up.

Melanie smiled back, but on the inside she was more conflicted than she'd ever been in her life. She'd always felt that she had people figured out. They might say they cared, but at the end of the day, everyone looked out for themselves. And they would bounce you to the curb without a second thought when you became an inconvenience.

And yet… Kimberly stood by her. Even after the incident with the plastic bugs. And every logical center in her brain said that the other girl should have taken Regina's offer, but she didn't. When faced with the opportunity to be elevated to a status where she'd be set, Kim remained loyal to her roommate. Melanie had originally bought her that figure, and also arranged for some movie time, because she'd felt obligated, after all the knife training. But… after that revelation, she thought that Kimberly deserved to know something from her past, the reason for what happened in the locker room.

And she stood by me there, too. She remembered the night after Field Day, the two of them laughing their asses off in the Rec Room while watching what Melanie considered a classic movie. Afterwards, Kimberly thanked her, said she was glad that Mel had come into her life.

She might actually be a good person, Melanie thought to herself. And after I get my knife, I would like to ask her to come with me when I leave. But I can't. This school is all she's ever known. She doesn't know anything about living in the streets. So she'd probably just be dead weight that I'd have to carry.

She'd always considered it safer to not get attached. Part of her felt that was the wisest course of action. I mean, you're still only here until you can earn a knife. That's the plan, and you're sticking to it. But still… she was actually going to miss Kimberly after she left.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a dish towel getting thrown at her head. She grabbed it and turned to see Nikolai standing there, arms folded impassively over his chest. "Stop daydreaming! You're letting milk spread! Get the mop! Now!"

With that, it was back to work. She spent the rest of the morning replenishing the supply line, carrying dirty dishes back into the kitchen, and of course washing them. It seemed there was no end to washing and drying. When breakfast was over, she helped the staff clear places and also sweep and mop the dining hall.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, she was tired, sweaty, and the pristine white of both her apron and her blouse sleeves were splattered with all manner of stains. "Come back same time tomorrow," Nikolai told her. "And remember to dress more casual."

"Right," Melanie said, and high-tailed it out of there, even more eager for a shower than she'd been the night she got out of Solitary.


Saturday, June 21st, 1997

The rest of the week passed slowly. Melanie was up with the dawn every day, assisting Nikolai and his staff with breakfast. Regina kept causing "accidents" for her to clean up, but Melanie remembered her agreement. For some reason, she now felt more compelled to respect Kimberly's wishes, not because she felt she had to, but because she wanted to, out of respect for the other girl.

Due to her punishment, her afternoons and evenings had to be spent catching up on other things. Though it was summertime, the Clemency School didn't really have a "summer vacation,"the way public schools did. But there were only a small handful of classes throughout the week: a foreign language course (they were currently learning Japanese), home economics, and some required reading for English class. The rest of the time, it was gym class, and also field trips to museums, state parks, and anywhere else that Joan felt might help enrich the girls' minds.

But this Saturday, Melanie's punishment was officially over, and so she enjoyed sleeping in for the first time since last week. Not to mention getting to eat breakfast at her usual place next to Kimberly, instead of scarfing down a hastily-constructed plate in the kitchen when Nikolai gave her a fifteen-minute break.

Today, she had taken a page from her roommate's book, and constructed toast, a sausage patty, and a scoop of eggs into a sandwich. "I'm surprised I didn't turn vegetarian after all that slave work," she remarked. "Have you ever seen a grease trap?"

"Yup," Kimberly answered as she sliced a banana over her bowl of Wheaties. "I've helped Nikolai in the kitchen before."

"What? Like you actually signed up for it?"

"Yeah." She set the banana peel aside and poured a cup of milk into the bowl, taking a moment to mix it a little before shoving a spoonful in her mouth. "A couple of times."

"And you wonder why I call you weird," Melanie said with a laugh.

"Hey, it pays more than most other chores."

"Well, I don't think they could bribe me to do that shit again. I already knew Nikolai was a lousy cook. Now that I've gotten to know the guy himself… he gives me the creeps."

Kimberly shrugged, took another mouthful of cereal. "So he didn't say much. But he stayed focused on his work, and as long as I just did whatever he told me to do, he left me alone. I never felt uncomfortable around him."

Melanie took a bite of her own breakfast. "Well, yeah, I don't think he's, like, secretly a molester or anything. I've met people like that, and Nikolai doesn't fit the profile. He's just… weird. But not in the good way, like you. So if he's weird and a shitty cook… I dunno, makes me wonder why Landy keeps him around."

Kimberly had finished her cereal and was now peeling her orange. "I don't know. He works cheap?"

"Guess so." After that, Melanie focused on her sandwich. When breakfast was winding down, Hartman stepped over to their table.

"Melanie," he said. "When you're done eating, move your butt over to the practice field."

The blonde girl's first impulse was to think she had more punishment coming. "Why? Am I still being punished, sarge? I thought Ms. Landy said I'd served my time."

"It's not punishment," the gruff man answered. "As long as you're there by oh-nine-hundred-thirty. Otherwise, you will face more punishment. Oh, and be sure to dress comfortably." With that, he turned and left the dining hall.

"Any idea what's going on?" Melanie asked her roommate.

"Not a clue," she answered around a mouthful of orange. "But the sarge is a pretty straight shooter. If he says it's not punishment, you can believe him."

The blonde girl scratched her chin, one of those rare moments when she was deep in thought. "Could it be training?"

"You'll just have to go see, I guess."

"Right." With that, Melanie gulped the last of her milk, and got up from the table. "Guess I'll see you later, then. I wanna give myself time to stop at the room first."

"Have fun," Kimberly said with a nod. "I'll meet up with you at lunch."

"Gotcha." Melanie left the dining hall and went back to her dorm room to change into shorts and a T-Shirt. She also grabbed her yo-yo off the dresser-top and slipped it in her pocket, then double-timed it over to the other side of the school, and the barren practice field.

She was surprised to find two of her teammates from Capture the Flag, Layla and Zoey, already waiting there. They'd not interacted since Melanie had "sacrificed" them to bait Regina during that game. And neither one of them seemed keen to start now.

"She's coming with us?" Layla snapped.

"I thought the sarge said this wasn't punishment!" Zoey added.

The small blonde ignored them, slipped her hands in her pockets, and tried her hardest to look at something else. She then felt two fingers nudge her just below her collarbone. This made her jump a few inches in the air and she took a step back, arms raised defensively. "What the hell?" She snapped.

"Are you even gonna apologize, runt?" Layla growled at her.

Melanie's amber eyes narrowed into slits. "First of all, don't ever touch me. I don't like to be touched. And second, no. I won't. I stand by what I did. It worked, and you're both still here to annoy me, so quit your bitching." With that, she took a few steps back from them.

Silence fell over the practice field, though the tension was almost palpable enough to be tasted. A few moments later, they saw Hartman approaching, dressed in brown boots, camo pants, and a drab olive-green T-Shirt. A field pack was on his back that seemed to contain a sizable amount of gear. "Good morning, ladies," he addressed them. "I'm sure you three are wondering why you're here."

No, I'm just standing next to these two bitches for kicks, Melanie thought to herself. She wisely didn't say this out loud, as she knew of the gym teacher's extremely low tolerance for sarcasm. So she just nodded with the others.

"Well, Ms. Landy has instructed me to take you three on a camping trip," Hartman explained.

"Why are we doing that, sir?" Layla asked him

"Team building exercise," was the answer. "That's all you need to know for the time being. Now follow me. Before we set out, you'll need some gear."

And so the three girls followed him off the field towards the school building. As they walked, Zoey whispered out of the corner of her mouth: "Good going, freak. Our weekend's shot now thanks to you."

"How the hell is this my fault?" Hartman was several paces ahead of them, and seemed not to hear Melanie's whispered answer, or her choice of language.

"Uh, duh-doy?" Layla said. "Obviously, they chose us three for this team-building thing because of your little stunt during Capture the Flag."

"For the last time, it was a rubber knife!" Melanie said louder than she intended to. "You're acting like I really stabbed you. I didn't. So just grow a pair and move on!"

Hartman picked up on that. "Let's can the chatter, ladies," he said over his shoulder. "We have things to do." And so, they fell silent as he led them into the school building, and down several hallways to a supply closet. Once there, he located three other field packs and began to select the gear for them: sleeping pads, bedrolls, digging spades, and various other things… at one point, he handed Melanie several canteens and told her to go and fill them in the kitchen, then meet back up with them outside.

Melanie slung the canteens over her shoulder, and began the walk to the dining hall, once more finding the urge to run away rising. The only thing stopping her was that she didn't have her knife yet. So she did as the sarge ordered, and a short time later, she was knocking on the kitchen door.

After a few moments, Nikolai answered, his gray eyes settling on the small blonde's burden. "Hartman is taking you camping?" He asked, though once again Melanie sensed it wasn't a question. He didn't wait for an answer (perhaps a good thing, since she would have responded with sarcasm), and instead laughed a little. "Well, that should be learning experience for you. Come in. You can fill those at the sink."

Melanie puzzled over that remark for a second, then she shook her head, entered the kitchen, and set to the task Hartman had given her. The head chef went back to his own task of rolling meatballs for that evening's dinner, and Melanie tried not to look at them. Like lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs was another thing he actually did fairly well, so Melanie was sorry she'd be missing out on that.

She was almost done filling the canteens from the industrial-sized sink when she heard footsteps coming towards her, and turned to see Nikolai approach, wiping his hands on his apron. He then reached into one of the front pockets on his slacks. For a moment, Melanie wondered if she was wrong about the man not being a pedophile, but he simply produced a small black disc that fit neatly in the palm of the hand, and held it out to her.

"You might need that on this exercise," he said. "It's a flashbang. Press the center of the disc twice to prime it. If you don't need it, press it twice again to deactivate it. It takes three seconds to prime, after which you have three more seconds to throw. Be sure to shut your eyes when it goes off. Never look directly at it, devochka."

Melanie stared at the object in her hand, lost for words. But her mind was racing, once again trying to figure out why the man who was responsible for keeping the school fed would be carrying things like this. "Um… why would I need it?" She finally managed to ask.

He shrugged. "You may not. But if you do, you will be grateful to have it." With that, he went back to making meatballs.

Melanie stood there for a long while. Then she remembered the sarge was probably waiting for her, so she slipped the small disc into her pocket and shouldered the now-full canteens. "Uuuuh… thanks, dude," she finally managed to say. Right after that, she winced, afraid some reprimand would be handed down for not calling him "sir." But the apron-clad enigma took no notice of her lack of formality.

"Pozhaluysta," he answered without looking up from his work. The small blonde decided not to linger, though she still had questions, and high-tailed it out of there, back to the meeting place Hartman had designated. She stepped out into the bright summer sun to find the gruff man waiting along with the other two girls.

"Double time it, Melanie, we're burning daylight," he said, and held out one of the field packs to her. She noticed that Layla and Zoey each had one strapped to their back.

Melanie was about to say that was bullshit, because the sun wasn't going to set until an ungodly hour. Then her hands grabbed the straps on the pack, and she nearly pitched forward onto the lawn under its weight. "What's in this thing, cinder blocks?" She asked.

"Survival gear," was the only answer she got. "Now let's go." Melanie strapped the pack to her back, grunting a little under its weight, and then the four of them moved to a structure in a far corner of the school that Melanie hadn't seen before: the garage. Hartman opened the large, corrugated steel door by remote control, and Melanie couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the assortment of vehicles it contained.

She recognized Joan Landy's limo, the one that had first transported her to this school, but she also saw coupes, pickups, jeeps, vans, more luxury vehicles… and the one Hartman led them to was a black Hummer. The girls were able to remove their cumbersome packs and put them in the trunk, which the gym teacher also did with his own burden. After that, the three girls climbed into the back seat (the other two made Melanie ride bitch, which she was not happy about), while Hartman got into the driver's seat, started the vehicle, and they were off.


"Damn it!"

For what seemed like the fiftieth time, Kimberly's yo-yo reached the end of its string… but she couldn't make it come back up. With an annoyed grunt, she wound it by hand back to starting position, and tried a different move, swinging it up and out in that half-moon circle that Melanie sometimes liked to do. And the yo-yo made it halfway up before the string suddenly seemed to go slack, and the toy swung down again, almost hitting her in the knee.

Another growl, and she started to wind it up again. The dark-haired girl sat on the stone steps overlooking the quad, enjoying both the summer sun and some free time before they took a field trip into Burlington. For the last month now, Melanie had been trying to teach her some tricks with the yo-yo, but no matter how much she practiced, Kimberly couldn't seem to master even the basics of making it go up and down.

It's like you said with the knives, Kim, you just gotta keep the wrist nice and loose, was all that Mel could really tell her. It's kind of hard to describe anything else. The movements are just… something you eventually pick up on.

"I still don't see how she does it," Kimberly muttered to herself, and pocketed the yo-yo. "I'll try again later." She looked out over the quad, seeing a few other girls either chatting or at play. Then her eyes flicked over to the main gate, and her brow raised when she saw the black Humvee idling by it. A moment later, the gate slid ponderously open, and the vehicle drove off down the road that wound through the thick forest.

Kim's brow furrowed in confusion. There was only one person on Landy's staff who ever drove that thing. She looked out over the grass again, singled out a girl who did not seem to be busy with anything, and walked over to her. "Hey, Mona, you know where the sarge is going with the Hummer?"

Ramona shrugged. "I heard he's taking one of his camping trips."

Though she already suspected the answer, she still asked: "Who are the victims this time?"

"Layla, Zoey, and Mel."

Kimberly couldn't help but give a small shudder. "Well, that should be a learning experience." She didn't say out loud that statement would likely apply to everyone involved, not just Melanie.


Later that day, somewhere in the Cascade Mountain Range...

"Worst… Saturday… ever."

Layla, who was hiking in front of Melanie, rolled her eyes. "Will you can it, already, runt? You've been saying that non-stop for the last hour."

"Well, what else can I say? It is." How else was she even supposed to describe the two-hour drive from the school to the more mountainous area that took up most of the middle of the state? A majority of that drive had been silent, since Hartman hadn't even played the radio, and Melanie really didn't feel like talking to her school mates, or vice versa. Then Hartman had taken them off-road, driving in between the tall conifers, the large tires of their vehicle finding traction rather easily on the thick carpet of pine needles and rich volcanic soil.

At last they'd reached a clearing, where Hartman parked the Hummer, and took a few moments to consult his compass. Then they'd all strapped on their packs, and he'd led them into the woods. And the splendor of the mountains and evergreens surrounding them on all sides was definitely lost on Melanie, who'd been a city girl her whole life. Of course, it was made worse by the weight of her field pack pressing down on her, the thick straps digging into her shoulders with each step she took. Not even the nuns had dished out punishment so grueling.

"Have you ever been camping before, Melanie?" Hartman asked, trying to keep the girls focused.

"No, sir," Melanie answered.

"Well, then, this should be a new experience for you. And maybe you'll learn something, if you keep your mind open."

"That'll be the day," Zoey muttered under her breath.

"Hey, I have good reason for not wanting to be here right now," the small blonde said, glancing back over her shoulder at the other girl. "Have you ever seen this movie called 'Deliverance'?"

"Um… no. Never even heard of it."

"Ms. Landy really needs to start showing better movies on movie nights, then."

"Calm down, Melanie," Hartman said. "I assure you we're in no danger, here."

"Yeah, for now," she argued. "But if we stumble across a gang of toothless country folk who decide to make us squeal like pigs, then we'll be in plenty of it."

"You keep that up, Melanie, and I'll start giving you detention," said the gym teacher. "Now then, let's do a little Q and A." He pointed to a bird with light brown feathers on its back and black speckles on its breast, latched onto the trunk of a tree and pecking at its bark. "Layla, can you identify that?"

"A Northern Flicker, sarge?" The blonde answered.

"Correct." He then pointed to a gray creature that resembled a beaver, foraging through a pile of rocks on the forest floor several yards to their right. "Melanie, what is that?"

"Um… a rodent?" Melanie answered with a shrug.

"Sorry, but the answer I was looking for was hoary marmot."

"Okay, it's a hoary marmot, then. Whatever that means."

Hartman ignored the sarcasm and moved down the line. "Zoey, what date did Mount Saint Helens erupt?"

"March 20th, 1980,"answered the brunette.

"Correct."

This got a reaction from Melanie. "Wait… what's that?"

"An active volcano in this mountain range," Zoey told her.

Upon hearing that, Mel stopped dead in her tracks. "There's fucking volcanoes here?" She shouted loud enough to cause every bird perched above to take flight.

Hartman ordered the other two to halt, and then turned to face Melanie, his gray eyes harder than flint. "Language, Melanie. Watch it. And yes. There are volcanoes in this mountain range."

"Oh, well, that's just great!" Melanie shouted, for a moment forgetting who she was speaking to. "Not only do we have to worry about getting fucked by trailer trash, there's volcanoes here, too! What the fuck's going on here? Is Landy trying to get us killed for insurance money, or something?"

"You just bought yourself a day of detention when we get back, Melanie," Hartman told her. "Every curse word I hear from this point on will be an extra day. Is that clear?"

The blonde girl let out a long breath, and after calming down, started to feel herself withering under his gaze. Detention would definitely keep her from her knife training, a thought that helped stop her imagination from cooking up worst-case scenarios. At least for now. "Yes, sir," she finally answered.

"Good, then let's move on. We've got to reach the camp site while we have sufficient daylight, because we'll have things to do when we get there."

Melanie looked down at her wristwatch, a cheap plastic thing she'd gotten at one of those new thrift stores at the mall. "Don't think we have to worry about that, sarge. I mean, it's not gonna get dark for another eight hours."

"Well, we need to have enough time to catch a rabbit or some squirrels. That is, if we want to eat dinner this evening."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Melanie said with a roll of her eyes. There were plenty of other things she wanted to say, but one day of detention was too many for her.

"Hey, Mel," Layla spoke up from in front of the small blonde. "If it makes you feel any better, most of the volcanoes are along the coastline."

"That's nice," Melanie responded with a roll of her eyes. "So, we just have to worry about… rednecks forcing us to squeal like pigs, and… anything else that might live here." Her thoughts went to the flashbang in her pocket, once more wondering why Nikolai had given it to her. "Are… there any bears in these mountains?"

"There are grizzlies, yes," Hartman said. "Wolves, too. But I assure you that we're in no danger. As long as you pay attention to what I have to teach you."

So they marched on. Hartman led the way through the trail and continued to quiz them. Melanie kept getting the answers wrong, so after a while, he began to give them some pointers on how to avoid predators. The small blonde only half-listened, as she was trying not to think about how heavy the pack was on her back, or the fact that she'd drank everything in her canteen. She asked the gym teacher when they'd be refilling, and the answer was when they reached their camp site, which was close to a lake. "And even then, we'll need to filter and boil the water before it's safe to drink," he said.

"Why would we do that?" Melanie asked.

"Because there might be parasites in it," Zoey told her. "Too small to see with the naked eye."

Upon hearing that, Melanie was now convinced that Landy was trying to get them killed, but managed to avoid using words that would have gotten her more detention. Thankfully, she had something else to distract her: all the water she'd drank was catching up to her.

"Um, Sarge," she ventured. "I have to pee. Is there at least a bathroom out here?"

"All around us, Melanie," he said with a small laugh. "Go behind any tree or bush you want." With that, he brought them to a halt and invited the girls to take off their packs. "We might as well have a rest period. Layla, Zoey, if you need to go as well, now's the time.

"I'm fine, sarge," said Layla, pulling a granola bar out of her field pack.

"Likewise," said Zoey, and she opened her own canteen and took a sip.

Melanie stood there, fidgeting a little from one foot to the other. "So… I just… go behind a tree?"

Hartman, who'd laid his own pack flat on the ground and was sitting on it, nodded as he munched an apple. "That's affirmative."

"So, just out of curiosity, what if we have to take a sh… um… go number two? What do we do then?"

The gruff man shrugged. "Dig a hole. But be sure to do it at least a hundred yards from the camp site, so we don't attract wildlife."

"This is why I hate nature," Melanie grumbled as she stalked off the trail to go find a tree whose thunk was wide enough to give her privacy.

"Should we warn her about poison ivy?" Layla whispered to her friend.

"Nah," Zoey whispered back. "Let's wait on that." And the two girls shared a laugh together.

Hartman did not appear to be amused. "I'd say that defeats the purpose of this exercise, wouldn't you, ladies?"

The laughter ceased in an instant. "Yes, sir," they both said.

After Melanie had rejoined the group, they resumed, finally reaching their camp site a few hours later. She had no idea how Hartman knew where it even was, since it appeared to off the trail, but as advertised, it was close to a body of water, and that water appeared blue on the surface. The small blonde let her heavy pack slip from her shoulders, then got down on her knees by the water's edge and cupped her hands, dipping them into the lake. Before she could bring the water to her lips, she felt the toe of a heavy boot nudge her in the backside.

Startled, she dropped the water she was carrying and turned her head to see the sarge standing over her. "Not yet, Melanie," he grumbled. "Remember, we have to sterilize that water first." He then held out a large metal pot and a water filter pump. "But since you're that thirsty, you can make yourself useful." He took a few moments, to instruct Melanie on how to use the filter, then told her to fill the pot and carry it back to camp.

By the time she staggered back into the clearing under the weight of the full pot, she saw Hartman setting up what looked like a tent, with Layla and Zoey setting up another. "Set that down with the rest of our supplies, Melanie," he said gruffly. "And then help them with the tent."

Pitching the tent took a little longer than it should have, mainly because Melanie didn't know what she was doing, didn't feel like reading the directions, and also didn't really like her camp-mates. After the tents were up, and their snacks had been consolidated into one pack and hung in a tree, Hartman told Melanie to go get wood. "Make sure it's dry but not too dry," he instructed. He then said to Layla and Zoey: "You two, come with me."

"Where are you going?" Melanie asked.

"To catch dinner," Hartman answered.

"Why can't I come?"

"Because we all earn our keep here, Melanie. And so far, you haven't shown me you're ready for that level. So be sure to get a lot of wood. Otherwise we'll have no fire to cook food or boil water, and when I say 'we', that includes you."

In the end, her desire for a hot meal (especially after the long hike) neutralized any desire she had to be spiteful or rebellious. Normally she was willing to make others suffer out of spite, but this was the first time she'd ever been out of the woods, away from stores, prepared food, and working toilets. So she simply nodded and said: "I won't let you down, sarge."

"Outstanding," Hartman said. "Just don't wander too far from camp."

"You got it," Melanie said, and flashed him a salute. They're just lucky my own desire for personal comfort outweighs how much I hate them all. So she wandered off and began to gather wood. She'd pick up as much as she could carry, then go back and dump it in the campsite.

For the most part, she was avoiding wildlife, except for the fact that she was encountering insects underneath some of the larger pieces of wood, so she left them alone and kept opting for smaller ones. On her third trip back to the camp site, she saw a black bear blocking her path about a hundred feet in front of her. The bear had been sniffing the ground, but jerked its head up when Melanie approached, nearly causing her to drop her burden

The beast was slightly shorter than her on four legs, but the girl was still wary. "Um… excuse me?" She called to it. The animal did not move, but cocked its head to one side and took a cautious step forward.

Now she did drop her bundle, and took a step back. Sweat was on her forehead, but she did her best to stay calm. One of the things she did remember Hartman saying earlier in the hike was to never show fear in these situations. "Come on, scram!" She shouted. "Go steal a fucking picnic basket!"

The bear didn't move, just kept staring. Keeping her gaze fixed on it, Melanie bent at the knees and picked up a stick, then tossed it as far as she could to her right. "Fetch!" She snapped. The bear turned its head in that direction for a moment, but then turned back to her just as quickly.

So she tried the other thing she remembered Hartman saying: she raised her arms up over her head and let out a loud yell. The bear also reared up on its hind legs, and Melanie's yell turned into a yelp as she fell backwards onto her bottom. Her aggressor seemed to think it was a game, since he got back down onto all fours, and then sat on his haunches like a dog.

When it became apparent that she wasn't going to be bear chow, Melanie got back to her feet, but she was still wary. "You're in my way, dude!" She snapped at the animal. "So, move! I got the edge here, Smokey. Humans have guns and fire! What have bears got? Porridge?"

At this time, the bear's expression suggested it saw the small blonde as a curiosity rather than dinner. It remained sitting, head cocked to one side. Melanie growled again and picked up another stick from the bundle, shaking it at the bear. "See? Look! Look stick! Stick, stupid! You're stupid, and stupid animals like sticks!" She tossed that one as far as she could, off to her right again. "So fucking fetch!"

This time, the bear just continued to stare. And then it started towards her again. The look on its face still suggested it was more curious than anything else, but Melanie was not having it. She reached down to her jeans, trying to remember what pocket she'd stuck the flashbang in. Her guess was wrong, and she wound up pulling out her yo-yo instead. She thought about putting it back, but for whatever reason, maybe the bear walking towards her, maybe the fact that she didn't want to to use the flashbang until she absolutely had to… instead, she stuck the loop of the string around her middle finger, and then lashed out with the spool, in a half-moon-circle…

...And it missed the bear entirely and came down on Melanie's head, hitting her above her left eye. "Ow," she muttered, then wound it up as fast as she could, launched it again. This time she struck the bear on one of its forelegs.

It gave a small grunt and then looked down at its limb. Melanie quickly wound it up, then lashed out a third time, and struck the bear on the snout. But in doing so, it bounced back and hit her in the chest, knocking her to the ground again.

That hardly mattered to her, because the bear gave another grunt and then walked off, away from both Melanie and the camp site. For a while, she sat there. Then she glanced at the yo-yo in her hand, a cheap toy she'd bought at a dollar store. But… it had still worked. "That… was pretty cool," she said to herself. Then she got up, slipped the toy back in her pocket, and started to pick up the wood she'd dropped. Her stomach was growling, so she had more important things to see to at the moment. But she wouldn't forget what had just happened.

She made a few more trips for wood, and then started looking for rocks to make a circle of stones, as Hartman had also instructed her to do. That was even slower going, as every rock she found had a small colony of bugs living under it. She wound up throwing each one down and stomping it until she was sure anything attached was dead. By the time Hartman and the other two girls returned with a pair of rabbits that had already been skinned and gutted, she'd only found half the rocks they needed.

"Any problems while we were gone?" The gym teacher asked.

Melanie thought about mentioning the incident with the bear, instead she just shrugged. "No. No problems. It's just as boring now as it was when you left."

Hartman ignored the sarcasm and surveyed the small girl's work. "Not bad so far, Melanie. We're almost ready to start cooking. Zoey, help her get the rest of the rocks we need for the campfire. Layla, you're the only other one with the knife, so sharpen some sticks into spits."

"Yes, sir," Layla answered. As the girls set about their tasks, Hartman began to dig a hole, and then started placing the rocks around it in a ring. It didn't take long for Mel and Zoey to get the rest of the rocks that were needed, though they didn't speak to each other the whole time. After they were done, Hartman showed them how to arrange the wood, and then used his own knife to start chopping up some yellowish mushrooms that had been picked while they were off catching dinner.

"Um… can we eat those?" Melanie asked. One of the few things she did know about the wild was to never eat mushrooms unless they came from a store.

"We can," Hartman assured her. "These are golden chanterelles, which are safe to consume as long as they're cooked first." He then reached for his pack, which lay nearby, and pulled out a cast iron skillet, as well as a metal tin.

"What's in the tin, sarge?" The small blonde asked.

"You'll see soon enough," he said, and started putting the chopped mushrooms into the pan. "Meantime, keep arranging the wood like I showed you."

After the wood had been set up in a tee-pee fashion, Hartman had them look for dry brush to stick between them and use as kindling. Finally, he pulled out a box of matches and used them to light the kindling, finally getting the fire going.

"Now we can start cooking?" Melanie asked.

"Negative," was the reply. "Now we need to keep feeding the fire until it's hot enough."

"And how long is that gonna take?"

"However long it takes for the wood to burn down to a nice red and gray color."

This response caused Melanie to get another day of detention, as she let another curse slip out. "If you want to help things along, go find more brush to stoke it with," Hartman told her.

"Yeah, get out of our hair for a while," Layla groaned.

Hartman shot the other blonde a reproachful glare. "If you girls keep arguing with Melanie, I'll start handing out detention to you two."

Melanie's watch said it was about seven by the time that the rabbits were skewered on spits and suspended over the fire on a makeshift rotisserie. Melanie also learned what was in the metal tin: salt, pepper, and an assortment of herbs that were rubbed onto the flesh of the animals before they started cooking. After an hour, the smell that filled the camp site was making her salivate. After another hour, the skillet with the mushrooms was placed directly onto the coals and given a generous sprinkle of the seasonings.

It was a little after nine when they were finally ready to eat, and despite the late hour it was still bright enough to see. The girls were so hungry, there was very little conversation as they ate by the fire. Of course, Melanie still didn't feel like talking to her companions, and had a great excuse not to. She'd never eaten rabbit before, and was surprised that it tasted a little like chicken. And it was as tender as chicken, falling apart rather easily when Hartman cut it into quarters. The mushrooms weren't so bad, either. She'd eaten mushrooms from the store once and thought they tasted like feet. Whatever he'd said these were, they tasted halfway decent with the seasoning.

So, camping sucks, but cooking food over a fire isn't so bad, Melanie thought a short while later, when dinner was finished and they were washing their dishes in the lake. Hartman added more wood to the fire, and then put on the large pot of water Melanie had gathered earlier to boil. "Once it's reached a boil, we'll take it off and wait for it to cool before using it to refill the canteens," he said.

"So, what do we do until then?" Zoey asked.

"We'll have dessert," Hartman said. "Even though this is a team-building exercise, we are still camping, so it wouldn't be complete without this." He reached into his pack once more, and procured a box of graham crackers, a bag of Jet Puffed marshmallows, and a few Hershey bars.

Layla and Zoey's eyes lit up when they saw this. "All right! Thanks, sarge!"

Melanie just looked confused. "What is all this?"

Layla raised an eyebrow at her. "Have you honestly never eaten a s'more?"

"No. I told you I've never been camping. Even when I ran away from foster homes, I preferred to stay close to civilization, since they have things like air conditioning, and prepared food, and actual toilets that flush."

"I think you'll like this, Melanie," Hartman told her. "Zoey and Layla can show you what to do."

"Do we have to, sarge?" Zoey asked.

"What do you think the answer to that is?" With that, he sat down on the other end of the fire and began sharpening his knife.

Layla used her own knife to turn three twigs into skewers, and then she and Zoey showed Melanie how to toast marshmallows. Melanie burned her first one a little, but it being black on the outside didn't take anything away from the gooey, creamy sweetness under that toasted crust. And it tasted even better when squished between two graham crackers with a few squares of chocolate.

"Holy sh-" Melanie started to say with her mouth full, then she remembered all the detention she'd acquired so far, so she managed to correct herself. "I mean… um, it's good."

Hartman chuckled a little at that. "Seems there is something you like about being outdoors."

Melanie said nothing, as she was too busy continuing to scarf down her first ever s'more. After making and eating three more, she thought to herself: Okay, this almost makes the risk of getting butt-raped by a toothless hick worth it. Sadly, there was only enough chocolate and crackers for each girl to have four, but they could still toast marshmallows afterwards, which tasted just as good on their own.

By the time the water came to rolling boil, was taken off the fire, and was cool enough for the canteens to be filled, Melanie had a full stomach and felt like she could actually sleep tonight, even if it was a bag and not a bed. She didn't even care that she had to share a tent with the other two girls. So when darkness finally began to settle over the Cascades, she was in her sleeping bag, ready to hunker down for the night….

...And she'd been sleeping maybe less than an hour when the forest came alive with sounds. It was the hooting of an owl that jolted her awake, which was followed by what sounded like a wolf howl. "Oh, shit!" She whispered. Those first two things she might have been able to handle, but then she heard a call echo across the water, something she'd never heard before, like the long, shrill scream of some insane person.

This was more than Melanie could handle. "Okay, what the fuck was that?" She shouted, loud enough to wake everyone else.

"That's another day of detention, Melanie," Hartman called from his own tent. "And go back to sleep. It's just a loon."

"Um… what's a loon?"

"A waterfowl indigenous to this area. It's harmless, so go to sleep."

The small blonde quieted down and settled back into her sleeping bag, but there was little chance of her getting to sleep now. Every time she shut her eyes, she'd hear the loon's cry echoing across the water. This made her wonder if grizzly bears had a cry of their own, or if they made any noise at all. Then she started to wonder if any bugs got into the tent. After an hour of jumping at the slightest sound of movement, she nudged Layla awake and asked her if she or Zoey had left the tent flap open after they'd pitched it.

"The tent's been closed all day, Mel," Layla grumbled. "Now go to sleep."

It took Melanie another few hours to finally drift off from sheer exhaustion… And the three girls awoke long after sunrise the next day to find that Hartman had gotten up before them, packed up his tent, and had started the hike back to civilization without them, leaving them alone.

To be continued...


So, a crash course on Russian words and phrases:

Zhdraviya zhelayu – "Good morning." There are a few variations of this, from formal to informal, but the one I chose is intended to be a military greeting.

Nyet – "No."

Devochka – "Little girl." Once again, there are a few words in Russian meaning "little girl", but this one seemed the most appropriate.

"Pozhaluysta" – "You're welcome."

And that tattoo on Nikolai's arm is the insignia for the Spetsnaz GRU. You can make of that what you will. ( ;

And another reason this chapter took so long, aside from real world issues, is that I did a lot of research on the Cascades: types of soil, what plants and animals live there, even edible mushrooms that grow in the Pacific Northwest. Based on what I've read, the golden chanterelle is safe for humans to consume. HOWEVER… I don't recommend that anyone ever eat mushrooms in the wild. Just get them from the store.

Also, if you've never heard a loon call before, look it up. It's as disturbing as Melanie makes it out to be.

I'm really hoping the next chapter doesn't take as long. Mainly because it's been a year since I started this and I've only gotten fourteen chapters completed. I was hoping to have a lot more done at this point, especially since I already know how Melanie's journey will end. After I finish moving, I should be able to devote more time to it.

Well, thanks for reading. Feel free to review, if you wish. To be continued in Part Two.