"Welcome to your first training session. My name is Agent Crane, and I'll be overseeing you all today. I'm sure that growing up you've all heard what training is like, or maybe you've actually talked to some of the trainers throughout the city. Before we get started with the physics, I've got to explain to you the basics of everything. First, can anyone tell me the purpose of all of this?" Our new instructor looked around expectantly.
I gaze around the room at the group of children, some smaller than me but most larger, and see a few raise their hand. I look back to Agent Crane just as he points to a boy behind me.
"Yes, boy?" He asks.
"To kill the Hollows, sir?" the boy timidly replies.
Agent Crane nods his head sharply, folds his hands behind his back and begins to pace the room as he speaks.
"Well, yes and no. You see, many decades ago our society was not nearly as advanced as today. When the outbreak began, our people were not equipped, nor knowledgeable enough, to protect themselves. Large cities, much larger than ours, were quickly overtaken by hundreds of thousands of Hollows. The people didn't have the technology, nor were they trained in the weaponry needed to effectively fight back. The human race became nearly extinct. After many years of living in isolation, far away from the overrun cities, we began to fight back. We have our forefathers to thank for where we are now; the city of Verona is standing due to their bravery and willingness to risk their own lives. Still, there are those in hiding. These people live in the wilderness or wherever they can find shelter. They do not know of our city and our safety, and it is our job, our duty, to rescue them. That is always our main goal."Agent Crane finished, coming to a halt once again in front of our group.
"Then why do even learn to fight?" One girl asks arrogantly.
"What is your name?" Agent Crane replies, stern eyes resting on the presumptuous girl.
"Clove," she answers in a rather disdainful tone.
"What a lovely name. Let me ask you, Clove, what is it you prepare to do if you're sent on an OP, an emergency rescue mission, and minutes after you pass through the city gates, a horde of Hollows attack? Or, for instance, what would you do if the family you were sent to rescue was surrounded by Hollows? How exactly do you propose to save them, or to defend yourself?" His voice is stern, his gaze fierce.
Clove scowls silently and he nods his head in satisfaction, returning his gaze to the room at large.
"You fight. This is war against humanity; a fight for survival. It's us against them, and if we are not ready for their attack- we will lose everything. This brings me to our second goal: to create a world where we can exist peacefully. A world where our city has no need for a massive wall to protect us, and our children can run free without the constant fear of attack. This world comes in one of two ways; we exterminate the Hollows, or we discover a cure for the disease." he says, staring us all down intently.
"Do you think they'll ever make a cure?" A petite blonde girl asks quietly.
"Our scientists and advanced medics are tirelessly working to find a cure. Once bitten, the virus spreads so rapidly through the bloodstream it makes it virtually impossible for medicine to be effective. It would have to be administered immediately, but as of now there is no known cure for this virus." Agent Crane says solemnly.
The room is quiet as Agent Crane gives us a few moments to consider everything he's told us. I take this opportunity to glance surreptitiously around the room and at the far end I see an array of weapons; assault rifles, M24's, semi automatic pistols, sharpened knives, battle axes and twin axes, long spears, deadly curved swords, a rack containing varying styles of brass knuckles, and many more. My eyes quickly find the only weapon I know how to use; a bow. My father began teaching me when I was very small. It's his specialty weapon; he's a Long Range Marksman in his quadrant.
"Moving on," Agent Crane says brusquely. "You now know why we train. Next, I'm going to explain to you what squads consist of. Typically each squad sent out on an OP consists of three types of fighters, and one each of the specialties; Long Range Marksmen, Raiders, and Lures. Whichever type of training you score highest in will be your core training, but you'll still be expected to train in the remaining two supplemental courses as well, for emergency situations. Also you'll be expected to be versed in what we call crash medical training, which is on spot emergency medical care." he lectures, pacing before us once more.
"If there's no cure, why do we need emergency medical training? If we get bitten, we're going to die anyways." A voice drifts from the back of the room.
"Because if you trip while running and fall on your knife, you're going to need to know how to stop the bleeding and stitch yourself up," Agent Crane responds coolly. The kid doesn't reply.
"Now, the first thing I'm going to explain is what a Lure is. A Lure's specialty training requires extreme endurance; long distance running and sprinting. Setting traps is, on spot navigation skills, fast reflexes; a Lure's job when on an OP is to act as bait, so to speak. A Lure will draw attention away from the Long Range Marksman and the Raider. The Lure may find themselves being forced to lead an entire pack of Hollows until the LRM and Raider can target and pick apart the pack, so he or she must be in top physical shape and condition. Without the Lure, a large herd of Hollows would quickly surround your vehicle and you would be dead in minutes." Agent Crane informs us.
"Next are the Raiders. Raiders are trained in hand-to-hand close combat. Typically, Raiders carry an array of throwing knives, a katana or a battle axe, and an assortment of both handguns and assault rifles. Raiders are typically physically stronger and larger than the Lure and LRM. They are the power core of the operation. The main objective for a Raider is to attack the Hollows and eliminate them as quickly as possible." he continued.
"Lastly, the Long Range Marksman. The LRM generally remains with the vehicle during the fight; climbing through the sun roof and on top of the vehicle for a sight and position advantage. They scan the fight from a distance and protect the Lure and Raider from any unnoticed Hollows. If the Lure loses the Hollows attention or is killed, and the Raider loses control of the fight and is killed, the Marksman can sometimes even finish the fight by bringing them down single handedly. LRM's are typically armed with M24's or assault rifles an, in rare cases, a bow." I feel a thrill of excitement run through me at our Instructor's last words.
I might not know many things about battle yet, but I know how to shoot a bow. I couldn't throw knives or fire any guns, but a bow was gold in my hands; I even had my own bow at home. My father gave it to me three years prior, when I was five. He and I used to practice every day. Emotion wells within me but I fiercely tamp it down- now is not the time for self- pity.
"So here we go- today, you're barely going to get your feet wet, no pressure. Feel free to explore the training center on your own, but try to visit each area of it before the day is over. Relax, enjoy yourselves, try to find what feels most natural. The real training begins tomorrow." Agent Crane gives us a brusque nod and walks away.
Everyone begins to slowly disperse, drifting off in different directions until only I am left hesitating, looking around freely now. Slowly, I wander towards the weapons wall. I pass the various stations until I find myself standing before the bows. I want to pick one up, test it in my hands. I decide on one of the smaller ones, a medium sized steel bow that most resembles mine; this one, however, is white as bone. 'This is my bow too', I tell myself. It fires just like mine at home, it looks like it, feels the same in my hands. It is exactly the same, no reason to be nervous. Excluding the Special Agent who guards this station, I am alone. No one else had ventured this far down the weapons rack; the bows, such a rare talent and difficult to hone.
My fingertips tingle as I lift the bow up, testing it in both hands. I pull at the taught string, let it snap back into place with a satisfying twang. I reach back to the rack and pick out a quiver of matching white steel bows and sling them across my back. I walk back to the middle of the room and face the targets; they are set up at the far end, behind where we were standing while Agent Crane spoke to us. I nod to the Special Agent who operates the targets and he flips a switch on the module before him. The targets begin moving.
There are three targets total, moving in different patterns and paths, clockwise, counter clockwise; one second they are side by side and then they are all in different areas along the wall. They move quickly, but I am quicker. I pull a single arrow from the notch on my back, line it up along my bow and pull the string tight. I breathe deeply and exhale slowly. Accuracy. Speed. Consistency.
Soundlessly, the first arrow flies and before it buries itself deep in the center of the first target, I've already loaded another arrow and it fires from my fingertips barely a breath later. My fingers are grasping another arrow and I pull it from the sheath with an unwavering quickness. I let the third arrow go just moments after the second, and then I pause. I've hit all the targets with deadly accuracy and I realize I've been in my own world; the room has become eerily silent. I look around in a slight daze and all eyes are fixed on me and my impaled targets.
Agent Crane begins striding towards me.
"You must be Miss Everdeen."
The city is blanketed in darkness. The streets are deserted, and the silence is like a heavy fog. I walk along a faintly glowing sidewalk, powered by solar strips. A starry night sky twinkles above me, and a full moon glows brilliantly. It would be a picturesque night, if not for the horrors lurking just beyond our towering fortress walls.
I know somewhere beyond those walls, the Hollows are exceptionally active tonight, prowling for food, hunting in packs through the woods. A full moon is known to increase their hunger, their aggressiveness. I imagine clearly a group of them preying through the woods, flesh rotting off the bone and mouths dripping with the blood of past feasts. I wonder if any have found our city this night, and even now lurk around the wall looking for entry. It is likely; this is nearly a nightly occurrence. The Night's Watch that man the wall will shoot them on sight.
I force my thoughts from the Hollows. I'm now standing in front of a tall, steel building. I place my hand on the sensor next to the handle and a small green light flashes, instantly registering that I'm human, and the doors slide open with a silent efficiency. I walk through the doors, slide my hand across another sensor along the wall and the doors slide shut just as soundlessly. This is one of many safety precautions in Verona, our city. In case of an infestation, Hollows cannot penetrate the buildings as they are not intelligent enough to active the sensors, and if, by accident, they do, the sensors will register the mutated genes and the doors will remain shut.
Strangers to the city wouldn't know that inside this building a celebration was occurring. We do this after a group of soldiers return from a successful OP. It's a morale booster; it helps relieve stress, and release pent up negative emotion. Plus, it's just a good time. Once inside I can already hear music thumping from the speakers on the top floor. My boots click as I stride quickly across the marble floor to a row of elevators and place my hand to another sensor. The green light flashes and within seconds the elevator has reached me; I walk inside. The music is much louder when the doors open and I enter a dark room packed full of people dancing and drinking. Everyone is dressed relatively the same: black pants, boots, and a v-neck black shirt. This is standard uniform, and I'm dressed no different.
A server with a tray of drinks comes up to me, and I take a tall glass with a deep purple drink inside. I have no idea what's in it, but it's sweet with a slight burn as it goes down. I sip on it as I look around the room and try to spot Gale among the dancing crowd. I know he's here, and will probably be losing more control than me since he was part of this OP. I haven't seen him since he left almost two weeks ago. His group went on a raid just above the north border of the state; killing every Hollow along the way and searching for more survivors, a fairly standard raid. They suffered no casualties and even saved a small family by bringing them back to Verona. I'm certain he'll be in grade A celebration mode tonight.
My speculations are proven correct when I see him sitting at the bar with a few of his friends, empty glasses lined out on the bar in front of them. He's laughing but I can't hear it over the music. Whatever they're talking about must really amuse him, because every few seconds he tosses his head back and shows a perfect set of white teeth flashing in the low light. It makes me smile to see him safe and happy, but I knew Gale would come home safe. He came in second in Lure training. He's excellent at setting traps for the Hollows, throwing knives, and is exceptionally accurate with hand held pistols.
I finish the glass of mysterious purple liquor and set it on a table as I walk past, crossing the room to Gale and his friends.
"Catnip!" He exclaims as he sees me approaching.
"Gale," I say with a smile. "How was the OP?"
"Better than the last," he says with a grin.
He slides off the bar stool, leaving his friends and drink behind with a smile and a nod, and I follow him through the crowd and across the room. He stops in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out past the wall. The view stuns me. This is the first time I've seen over the wall- I was only recently granted access to this building after completing LRM training, and only certain buildings in the city are built to see over the boundaries. I hungrily scan all that I can see in the limited moonlight, already thirsty for more.
"I thought you'd want to see that," he tells me with a grin. "How are you enjoying your first celebration?" He continues, eyes sweeping around the room like a trained soldier as he speaks to me.
I smile and pull my eyes away from the view in front of me to devote my attention to him. I turned sixteen three weeks ago and officially graduated from training. This is the first celebration we've had since then.
"It's entertaining, I'll give it that," I say, my eyes following his around the room. "Just like you said."
All over the room people are kissing, dancing, and one woman has even crawled on top of the bar. I raise my eyebrows and glance sideways at Gale. His eyes are on her for a second before he also steals a glance at me. We both snort in laughter and turn away from the party again, looking out the window once more.
"What was it like this time? Give me all of the details," I exclaim in excitement.
Gale is used to this by now. Every time he returns from an OP, I want to hear the whole story. I want to know where they went, what the Hollows were like, how many there were, how they killed them, what the world looked like where they went, and any other question I could come up with. He smiled and began feeding the flame.
"Well," He began slowly. "It started raining about three days in. That kept the Hollows off our trail for a while, I think. There weren't many this time, at least not compared to others, but it still wasn't easy. Kip almost got bit but someone put a bullet in the Hollow's head before it got him," he continues, smiling a little as I listen, eyes wide, without interruption as he recounts his adventure.
"They're disgusting, Catnip, honestly. Just wait until you get sent out on your first OP, you'll see. They smell dead, rotten, and their flesh is literally falling off their bones. They have this weird hissing sound, kind of like a groan. I think they're trying to growl but it doesn't come out right; it's creepy," he says, obviously trying to gross me out. It won't work; I'm too anxious to see them myself, too enthralled with the thrill of it all.
This explains why Gale always smells bad when he comes home, though. It must be the dead smell the Hollows put off.
"But they're easy enough to kill," I comment, not really understanding why he always makes it sound so dangerous. Hollows are relatively slow, and incapacitating one is surprisingly easy if you aim for the right place.
"If you keep your head. When a pack of them are bearing down on you, it's easy to lose your focus and throw your aim off. You can shoot them a hundred times in the chest, you can cut off their arms and even their head, but if you don't penetrate their brain they'll continue to come after you, even if it's just a severed head taking bites from the ground. I'm telling you Catnip, you have no idea what it's like out there. The training gets you prepared physically but until you're in the situation first hand you just can't know if you have the mental capacity," he insists, staring at me intently. He's trying to scare me, to intimidate me. Like always, it doesn't fail to piss me off.
"So you don't think I can handle it, is that what you're saying?" I snap angrily.
"No," he denies, shaking his head. "I think you can handle it, I'm just telling you to focus. And don't cling to this pretty idea of what you picture it'll be like outside the wall. It's more gruesome, more brutal, more horrifying than you dream about. You're going to be disappointed," he finishes, looking away from me and back out over the walls.
We're quiet now as I analyze his words. He gives me this same speech every time he returns, but I've always brushed it off. But now that I'm sixteen, knowing that I can be sent out at any time for my first OP, I let Gale's words sink in. I know it's life or death out there, black and white with no in-between, but somewhere inside me, somehow I still feel like I'm supposed to be out there for something. I think my father felt the same way, had that same fire to go out beyond the wall, because he seized every opportunity he could. His fire took him to an early grave though, because one day when I was very young he left out on an OP and never returned. I'm thinking about my father and his final moments when Gale interrupts my thoughts.
"Don't stress over it, Catnip. You'll get the hang of it fast out there," he says. "As long as you have your bow, you'll be fine," he continues, reaching out and tugging my braid gently.
I meet his beautiful gray eyes and give him a faint smile. I realize, standing there, that I don't want to stand around and mope over the Hollows and my father at my first celebration. My father certainly wouldn't want that, so I set my shoulders, grab Gale's hand and push the crowd in search of another drink.
It takes me exactly two more drinks to decide I've reached my limit.
"Catnip, you weigh, like, ninety pounds. You didn't really think you could keep up with me your first time drinking, did you?" Gale is laughing loudly at me, amusement bright in his gaze.
"Shh! Keep your voice down!" I exclaim equally loudly, covering my mouth with my hand as I laugh, unable to stop.
I'd decided to leave the party early and Gale offered to walk me home, gentleman that he is. The streets remained empty, still; everyone being either asleep or at the party. Gale drops his arm onto my head and rests it there as we walk; this doesn't help my wayward balance at all. I gave him a go-to-hell look and shove his arm off, teetering a bit as I do so. He knows I hate when he does that. Which, I'm sure, is exactly why he does it, I think sourly to myself with no small sense of revelation. He grins and shoves my shoulder gently. Normally, I'd keep my footing and shove him back but the liquor is really impairing my reflexes. The buildings on the street tip slowly to one side as I lose my balance, and I feel Gale's hands grip my arms tightly, pulling me upright just as I'm about to fall. This causes me to laugh again for some strange reason.
"Okay," he says with a grin and shake of his head. "It's time to get you home and put you in bed," he continues, draping one arm lightly around my shoulders to help keep me upright.
We walk a couple more blocks in silence before we reach the building my family lives in. Gale puts his hand to the sensor and leads me inside. My eyelids droop as I feel myself becoming more sleepy by the second, and then suddenly I'm just ready to be out of these clothes and under my thick bed covers. Once we're inside the elevator, Gale leans over and tugs off the long necklace I wear around my neck. On it is a tag with my name, age, and rank. It also acts as a card key to our apartment; everyone has one. I balance myself with Gale's arm as we stand in front of my door and he waves my tag in front of another sensor. There's a muffled click, and Gale pushes the door open.
The apartment is dark; Prim and my mother are obviously in bed, fast asleep. Gale does not need directions. He's been here countless times and knows exactly where my room is. For some reason this thought makes me giggle again. He gives me a questioning look and pulls me inside. I sit on the edge of my bed as he turns the lamp by my bed; sleep begins to take over and I sprawl out backwards. I hear Gale rummaging through my dresser next to the bed, though it seems a lot further away. He drops a pair of shorts and a tank top next to me.
"At least put on something more comfortable to sleep in," he whispers, and bends to pull off my boots. I raise up on my elbows, the extent of my abilities right now, help kick them off and give him a smile.
"Thank you," I say. My words sound slurred even to me. He raises an eyebrow in amusement.
"For getting your shoes off?" He asks incredulously.
"For getting me home," I correct him. It's important that I let him know this. I think... I'm not sure anymore. I feel very, very sleepy. I fall back again onto the bed.
He shrugs and sets my boots at the foot of my bed before sitting down next to me. His gray eyes are dark now in the dim room, and the lamp casts a shadow on one side of his face. His reaches out hesitantly, his fingertips barely brushing my cheek before I pull back slightly and drop my gaze. I am sleepy, but not so gone that I don't understand. I'm about to speak, am attempting to formulate words when I hear him sigh and stand up.
"I should go," he says shortly. "You should change clothes and go to bed," he finishes, backing up from my bed now.
I look up and catch his eyes, but only for a moment before he turns and leaves the room. I faintly hear the front door close behind him. I've wondered before if Gale and I would reach a point in our friendship where one of us cared more than the other. I've considered it before, but can just never picture Gale and I as anything other than what we are now. We've been friends for too long I guess, and the relationship is more like that of a brother and sister; at least it is to me. We know each other inside and out, nothing left for us to discover about each other. There's no mystery, nothing new, and no desire. I'm never left wanting more after he leaves. We are comfortable, and while I love Gale and the comfort he gives me, I know it's not what he wants and not what I need. I make a mental note to speak to him tomorrow. I crawl out of bed and change into my night clothes and my bed has barely hit the pillow before I pass out.