It was like a bad dream, except he was awake. He didn't know how he'd overslept. His gear was jostling around his chest, his shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were falling loose because his belt was tightly gripped in his hand. He was running as fast as he could, his lungs burned and the cold morning air made his legs numb.
Up ahead, in one of the many open quad areas he saw the gathering crowd. There were more soldiers than Johnny thought there'd be, about a hundred or so. It looked like they were forming organized rows and starting to take orders.
Johnny managed to lock in all his gear and suit up appropriately before running up to one of the last positions in the last row. He didn't stop himself fast enough and pushed into one of the soldiers a row ahead. The soldier turned, there was a look of destruction on his face. If attention hadn't been called, Johnny would have been in trouble. As every other man saluted in unison, Johnny was finishing pulling his black balaclava over his face, some of his blond hair stuck out through the eye hole. He threw his sunglasses on and took a deep breath. Somehow he had managed to avoid being caught showing up late.
At the front of the group Meryl was silent. Her eyes drifted across the men who had made the mistake of being first in line. "It's good to see such a turn out." She yelled so those in the back could hear. "You all have guts, I like that." Meryl brushed her fiery red bangs from her face as she started to pace. "But there's too many of you. More than I thought would sign up. I can't take you all into trials. So here's what we're going to do." She stopped at the center of the group, unclipping her chest harness, dropping her gear to the floor. "50 push-ups, 50 squats, until half of you quit. Do you get me?"
Instantly the crowd of soldiers yelled a solid "Yes! Commander! We get you!" Johnny, not hip to the call and answer, faked his way through.
Meryl gave a hand signal, and what seemed like out of thin air one of the other SpecialOps teams flanked each side of the group. The team created fear, even among those recruits that thought they were the toughest. SpecialOps wore all black, their expressions hidden underneath face camo or goggles and balaclavas. They had full gear including the custom assault rifles only issued to the elite military groups.
"These are my friends." She swept her hand across the field, introducing her brethren. "They will help me sort you out. If you stop, you've quit." Meryl took one last look around. "Go."
Once again with precise unity the group of 100 dropped to their hands, punching out push-ups. Johnny, always slightly out of sync, tried his best to stay in rhythm with the group. During his years in the corps, Johnny had grown accustomed to push-ups. He was lighter than the more muscular soldiers, which was an advantage; he had less weight to lift.
The group hit 50 very quickly and moved on to the set of squats. The first thing Johnny noticed as he started to sit to the ground was that Meryl was doing the sets too. From all that he had observed over the years, Johnny wagered she was proving some sort of point. It seemed from the way some of the stories were told, she was obsessed with proving her worth, and what better way than to pass the same tests her teammates would have to pass.
Minutes turned to hours, what had started as crisp, sharp movements were now labored and slow, some of what the men were doing might not even pass as push-ups and squats, though they only quit if they stopped trying. Johnny's arms felt like they were filled with slivers of glass that were crunching and grinding in his shoulder sockets. He couldn't keep his back straight anymore, and his belly touched the ground on every rep. His only solace was that he wasn't the only one, even Meryl's perfect form had wavered into a sloppy mess. Johnny had been keeping track of the soldiers who had given up or who were caught resting. Only ten more soldiers needed to quit for this hell to be over. What was once morning had quickly changed to afternoon; what was once a brisk sunny day turned chilled and rainy. The remaining soldiers had since given up staying in unison, some were squatting others were doing push-ups. The groans were becoming more frequent. Muscle spasms and cramps were starting to make the men fall fast. Johnny couldn't look around anymore, he was too tired to lift his head, but there was no mistaking the scream of pain caused by a ripping muscle, 2 to go.
Johnny honestly didn't know how much longer he could endure this torture. The rain was falling hard, it was cold, his fingers were numb and blistered, he was drenched and chaffed. The dehydration was starting to cause his legs to cramp, his hamstring twitched readying to spasm into a rock hard ball of muscle. He just had to hold out a bit longer, he willed his muscles to stay loose. Each time he was about to give in, when he didn't think his hands could take another blister, when he thought his shoulders would rip apart, when he didn't think he could breath anymore, that's when he would pick out her voice among the groans and yells. He could hear her straining to continue, she was working through pain just like the rest of them. There would be an occasional "Pick it up!" or "Come on!" probably directed at herself, though Johnny felt like she was speaking only to him. She was what gave him the will to continue, even with no strength left. Johnny stood to start squatting again.
Meryl had just started her round of squats too. She clasped her hands behind her head and kicked her legs out to shoulder width. As she bent down, Johnny could see a wince of pain cross her face, her eyes squinted and her left knee twitched, just slightly. At the bottom of the bend, she paused for a passing moment, and then let out a grimacing sound, pressing back up, only to start the motion all over again. She was drenched and muddy, rain drops bounced off her broad forearms and steam could be seen rising from her face and chest. Johnny could almost forget his own pain while watching her, she was strong, but it was clear that determination was the only thing left keeping her standing. With each additional repetition, her grunts echoed her muscle fatigue, her joint damage, her mental anguish – Johnny could hear it in his own groans – it was the sound of pain. While the rest of the soldiers were caught up in their own personal struggle to keep going, Johnny felt like he had teamed up, like he wasn't alone, it was like the two of them were in it together. There was some insane part of him that was truly content at that moment.
As Johnny bent down with Meryl once more, while taking that slight pause at the bottom, he saw it happen. Her knee buckled on the way back up, her balance wavered, she fought to keep her body on top of the one good leg she had left. A sound like none Johnny had ever heard escaped her mouth. He shot looks to the SpecialOps soldiers, some turning to see whether she would fall. Just as all of this was happening another soldier collapsed leaving only one more to quit before this crazy exercise in masochism would end.
It seemed that many others were keeping track of that precious number. A flurry of strained groans could be heard throughout the group. Meryl had managed to sit back into another squat, but her one good leg just didn't have the strength to lift her body weight anymore, she strained, her body going no where. She cried out, it was the sound of a women, her armor stripped bare. There was so little left to endure, Johnny couldn't contain himself.
"Do it!" He yelled as he dropped to start his push-ups. "Do it! Stand up! Stand up!" He yelled out as loud as his winded breath would let him.
And then, to Johnny's right, the last soldier needed to end the drill dropped to his side, grasping his shoulder, cursing the heavens. A rifle fired into the air, signaling the exercise was over. Everyone dropped to their knees or collapsed flat to the ground, the sound of whimpering and pleas to God echoed across the quad. Johnny had fallen to his stomach, his face sitting in a shallow puddle of mud. Dirty water found its way into his mouth as he fought to inhale enough air to stay conscious.
It wasn't long before the soldiers regained their composure, the SOP system was starting to regulate their pain sensitivity and fatigue, it even helped the healing process accelerate. Johnny had no such advantage. As other soldiers made it to their knees, he was choking down the excruciating pain of muscle spasms.
Face still sitting in mud, boots came into view. "Get up soldier." Her voice was back to that low, raspy tone.
Johnny cocked his arms, pressing with everything he had left, which was nothing. He couldn't obey the command. He felt hands grab his arms, lifting him to his feet. Two of the SpecialOps held him upright, his head hung low, his brow furled, his chest still heaving at a frenzied rate. Meryl reached to his face, removing his sunglasses, allowing her to stare him down. Though the nanomachines had started to normalize her body responses, she was still wincing with pain. A SpecialOps soldier had her arm draped over his neck, holding her steady; she was still favoring her good leg. She leaned close, very close; Johnny could feel her breath run across his face; he could see the white fog she exhaled moving past him. He watched rain stream down her forehead, starting from the headband she wore, running to the bridge of her nose, down her cheeks, collecting at her chin and falling to the ground. Johnny realized she was sizing him up – she was making some sort of internal decision about him.
"I'm going to be on your team, commander." His words came out through the gasps for breath, not louder than a whisper. He didn't break her stone-cold stare.
He saw it, for a split second, and just slightly, he saw it. Her lip curled upward. She smiled at the comment, and it was genuine. "Not if you're late again." She put his sunglasses back on his face and he was dropped to his knees. She and the SpecialOps team started to walk away. Without turning around she yelled over her shoulder "I expect to see all of you tomorrow, same time, same place." And with that they filled an awaiting vehicle and drove out of sight.
He couldn't move, he didn't know how he was going to make it back to the barracks, nor was he going to be in any condition to do any sort of training tomorrow, but none of that mattered right now. Johnny looked to the dark looming sky. Water poured from the rolling clouds pecking at his face and bouncing off his shades. Johnny smiled as he collapsed backward, losing consciousness – that too, didn't matter – his last chance was paying off.