Chapter Two - "The Swing of Things"
It only takes under an hour to arrive at Barron Overwhill Academy for Military Arts, including the various checkpoints the Peacekeepers have in place throughout the district. I take it all in stride, watching Rebel prisoners rebuild the damage they cause under heavy Peacekeeper guard, civvies attempting to go about daily life again throughout the slight ruins all the way until we pass by the static fixtures of tanks, hovercraft and to top it all off, a gigantic gold statue of cadets standing proudly while they gaze off into the distance, signifying our arrival.
"Thank Panem they didn't trash the place too bad," Mrs. Wilson says aloud, grinning as she glances through the rear view mirror. "You guys did a good job, Domi."
My brows furrow in confusion. There was holovision in the hospital, but due to being either too drugged up or engulfed in sadness, I barely had time for any War developments.
"We used the Academy as a staging ground," Domita explains, noticing me. "Y'know, instead of putting all our eggs into the Nut? When Thirteen sent a mob to try and take the place, Colonel - sorry, Brigadier General - Rudiger packed us all up and sent us to the Ranges. You and I know that we know those woods like the back of our hand, so it was easy pickings. Not even their hovercraft could get a beat on us-"
I shake my head, causing Domita to quit talking. "'Easy pickings'...You killed too?"
After a second or two, Domita nods, her eyes shifting towards the driver's side where her mother eyes us through the rearview mirror with concern. She recalls the story of fortifying the outer perimeter of the Academy with thrown together defenses before retreating into the expansive forest that surrounds the school and daring the Rebels to follow.
"They wanted to get us, I'll tell you that." Domita says after the fact. "But they couldn't break us even if their lives depended on it. We lost fourteen cadets and staff to their, get this, two hundred greased Rebs. Can you believe that? If they make a picture I want in on it."
I recline back into my seat, unsure of what to think until a feeling jealously begins to well within me. I could've been by Domita's side, fighting with her and our fellow cadets. Instead, they took that chance away from me.
Remember the Games, Zen. do the ACT, get selected and then give them hell. Make their parents wish for death.
...
After parking and checking over our uniforms which consist of black Mary-Jane buckled shoes, a long black skirt, white blouse, black woggle, an armband bearing Panem's seal and a beret, Domita, her ma and I are ushered towards the Cadet Area, a series of simple, uniform, buildings coated in aluminum with large windows set in horizontal bands. All our classrooms, gyms and dorms are within the area that forms a gargantuan quadrangle that makes meeting timings a real bitch.
Within the quadrangle is an open courtyard that's been called "The Terrazzo" from even before the Academy's inception. They say it's because of the marble walkways under our feet. It's made of terrazzo - therefore "The Terrazzo". All four thousand cadets and supporting staff of Barron Overwhill Academy could fit into this space if need be. A hologram of the Academy commandant, Brigadier General Rudiger, greets staff and students as we bound up the steps toward The Terrazzo proper.
"Welcome back everyone to what will surely be an interesting school year!" she says. "Be sure to gaggle in your respective units, as I'll be sure to address the student body as one shortly."
Unlike the first year plebs, thirteen and fourteen-year-olds with wide eyes and bushy tails, we know exactly what to do. Instead of making a beeline towards Overwhill Hall, home to Delta and Epsilon Company, we head over to Naysmith Hall. Named after our second victor, Griffin Naysmith, it's the apartment building that houses the junior and senior years - or Alpha and Beta Company. Domita and I are in eleventh grade, so Beta Company is our unit. Mrs. Wilson moves to gaggle with the other parents, many of whom are alumni to Barron Overwhill themselves. Domita and I could hear some of them sniggering about how confused they were on induction days.
"Attention all Beta Company personnel," a familiar, feminine voice cries out via megaphone. "I'll gladly scan all your induction forms so that the staff doesn't smoke us for forgetting later! Please don't be that guy or girl who screws over everyone else!"
Domita tugs me by my wrist, smiling from ear to ear. "Look."
Officer Cadet Beatrix Baines, who we affectionately call the "Company Mom" for corralling us into shape more often than not, retains her nickname as she establishes a line of fellow eleventh graders, scanning their induction forms so the admin staff could look each one over for things like change in pay or course selection. Aiding her is another friend of ours, Cadet Garrison Forge. Domita makes a beeline for Garrison, inching up behind him as she gingerly pinches his behind. Flustered, he spins around to give the offender a piece of his mind, only to blush deeply when he sees a grinning Domita behind him.
They exchange what I find to be a close and intimate murmur between each other. I'm standing here wondering since when were Garrison and Domita a thing? Garrison waves at me, sauntering over while fussing over the sleeve of his tunic.
"H-Hey Riv." Garrison greets sheepishly, getting the attention of Beatrix who scans the last of the induction forms.
"Hey Forge," I greet back in reply. "You haven't changed one bit, have you?"
"Oh my gods, Riv!" before I know it, Beatrix is on me like a mutt on a wounded tribute, squeezing the life out of me with one of her powerful hugs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry but I heard and I'm so, so sorry."
I feel my neck become wet with Bea's tears, causing me to tear up as well. I can add Bea's touch to the slim list of people who can touch me without unraveling at the seams. I'd say her fruity scent is part of the reason why.
"Oh Bea..." I sniffle. "You don't know how much I needed your hug right now."
"I can feel it, you needed it very much." She replies, nuzzling my neck. "I was stationed in the Nut. I knew a day after it happened. There were a lot of bodies to be patched up. As much as I wanted to transfer to your hospital, I couldn't-"
"It's okay Bea." we break apart now, my hands still entwined in hers as we let them dangle in front of us. "You don't need to explain."
"I'm here now, right? We'll be bunkmates and everything will be oka-" gasping, Bea's head cranes to the side, her brown eyes twinkling as she cries, "Callista!"
As Bea forgets me like yesterday's toy, Garrison, Domita and I watch as she zips towards our fifth friend, 'Lady' Callista Ryder. Her jacket neatly pressed, skirt pleated and her bouffant curled to perfection, Ryder sports her shit-eating grin all while her Avoxes are left to lug her kit towards the neat pile Beta Company set up.
"Callista Ryder reporting for duty!" she trills, splaying her hands out. "Back at it again as she continues to climb the academy ladder!"
"Lady Ryder," I croon in my best Capitol accent, bowing before her. "Let me start by saying it is an absolute honor to have you join us this school year."
Her mocha skin flushes pink. "Shut up, Rivendell-"
Bea hugs her in a way that would get her smoked for 'fraternization' if it wasn't for the fact that we all just came back from serving in a War. They collide into one another, which causes the both of them to teeter back and forth.
"Missed ya too, Bea." Callista says. I swear she flushes one shade darker when Bea sneaks a peck to her lips for good measure. Even I couldn't help but glance around the immediate area. Everyone else seems too busy making acquaintance with their own circles to notice ours. Rumors fly all the time among the company. It's best to keep relationships to the side, I find.
"It's been so long! I thought something happened to you!" Bea whines.
"With that choice posting to the Capitol, I doubt any harm could come to her." Garrison snorts, causing Domita and I to grin and giggle.
"Yeah, she was probably holed up in her castle or somethin'..." Domita adds.
We'll never let it go that 'Lady Callista' is a Capitolite among Twos. She's apart of a handful of Capitol-born cadets who attend Overwhill for the prestige alone. Her way in life is all but secure, what, with her father being Headpeacekeeper of the Army.
"Shush up, Egghead, Domita. I can't help that I live there." She claps back with an upturned nose. "And for your information, I have been out. Districts 3 and 9 to be specific. How else could Talons and Arrows get their juicy scoops?"
"I have seen a few issues. Good work detailing the Battle of Bismarck." Garrison replies. "Who knew District 9 could be so eventful all of a sudden."
"Thanks, though I still have the stench of gas in my nose." Callista wanders over to her kit, whipping out her camera as she begins taking point and shoots of everyone and everything. "It wouldn't hurt to get started on the September issue, eh? How does it feel to be juniors?! Not even 'juniors' but warrior cadets? We might not be able to fight in a Hunger Games but we got to fight in a war!"
We barely get to answer her when it seems that the entirety of Beta Company breaks out into cheers and applause.
"Randy! Randy! Randy! Randy!"
We turn and watch as Randall Pilsner himself makes his way over to our rally point. He's clearly flustered, both by the cheering of our fellow cadets and the fact that Mrs. Pilsner dotes on him all the while, tarnishing his hot shit image. Tall, tan and handsome, he strides ever closer in his uniform that seems to have two golden additions dangling off his chest.
"Oh, Randall's here!" and just like that Bea is zipping over to his side, taking some of his kit despite his protestations. Everyone circles around him. Fiddling with his medals and checking out the eyepatch strapped to his face with childish glee.
Me? I stand back, unsure of how to approach him. The War seems to have changed everyone. Garrison and Domita are a thing, Beatrix seems so sure of herself, Callista is...Callista and Randy is an honest-to-gods war hero while I feel partway stuck on that highway in late December. Mrs. Pilsner finally leaving him alone, Randall makes his way into the Beta Company gaggle proper.
"Randy, you owe me a few minutes of your time!" Callista takes a few shots of him surrounded by fellow cadets. "September is the month of the student for the newsletter and no other face should grace the cover of Talons and Arrows besides yours."
"There's a lotta people more deserving Callista, but sure." Randall seems distracted because he is. He can't seem to keep his eyes off of me. My heart skips a beat when his singular eye locks onto mine as he begins breaking away from his admirers, Bea and the rest of our friends joining him. We were dating a year ago. He was a pleasantly awkward yet dedicated student, always military stiff when around Mom and Dad. Now Rudiger could name a building after him on campus and everyone would agree. How come everyone's changed so quickly? A sad smile on his face, he attempts to close the space between us with a hug, something I quickly shy away from.
"Hi, Randy." I say softly, attempting to lessen the blow of not embracing him. Are we even still a thing? I'm not the girl he thinks I am, not anymore.
"Hello, Zenny." he replies, swallowing. He too eyes me the same way everyone seems to, extending a hand towards my cheek. "I...I heard the news. I'm so sorry-"
His fingers barely brush me before I shy away again, folding my arms below my breasts. "Yeah, well...They got theirs, didn't they?"
Randy and I notice our friends have given us some distance. Callista eyes us, aiming up a candid shot before Bea pulls her away.
With pursed lips, Randy nods firmly. "Uh yeah, you're right-"
"I see you got some medals," I say with an exhale, pointing them out. Medals, let's talk medals. Anything to get away from what happened. "The Distinguished Service Cross and the Silver Gem?" I make a show of inspecting his comb-over. "You've got quite the rack started and not even a grey hair on you."
"They wanted to put me up for the Hero of Panem, but it'd take too long and 'sides," he snorts with a stern shake of the head. "I ain't no hero."
"You coulda fooled me..." I reply, watching as he closes the distance between us a little bit more. With one hand cradling my abdomen, I allow the other to play with my curls in an attempt to fend off the awkwardness of having him so close. I want him close by but...It's a little bit much. Not wanting to upset him, I force myself to allow him into my bubble. On the outside looking in, we probably look awkward as all hell. He's close enough to warrant a hug, yet my body is closed off by my arm being in the way while the other rakes through my hair. If he's put off my by actions, he doesn't show it. Instead he shrugs, offering that familiar, sheepish smile of his.
"Just doin' what I was tasked." he says.
Awkwardly, the both of us skirt over to the gaggle to join the rest of our friends when we notice the officers and non-commissioned officers of our company begin to drift ever so closer to us 'men'. Everyone seems to take in that many of the NCOs and officers are wearing grey camouflage.
"How come the Expeditionary Force gets all the neat uniforms?" Domita whines with crossed arms. "We're always stuck with plain old off-white."
"Maybe cause they're absolute tops!" Callista gushes, snapping a candid of them. "I heard they sent a division to the Northern Wilds to eradicate a fleeing Rebel cell."
Garrison adjusts his horn-rimmed eyeglasses. "I heard the Army is trialing camouflage as well...I've seen it in fact. But white suits the PNPK's overall tactic of visuals over concealment. The Capitol is indeed all-powerful, so it only makes sense that its soldiers-"
Callista sighs, throwing her whole body into the motion. "Egghead, shut. Up!"
"Don't tell him to shut up!" Domita snips in retort. "You're the first one crawlin' over when the midterms come a knockin'-"
One of the Expeditionaries we know very well, Corporal-now-Sergeant Floris, stomps her way close to our gaggle, shushing all nearby chatter.
"Beta Company! Company formation on the double!" she barks.
Randall is first to move. "Form up!"
Everyone squawks the word of command on repeat. As we all know what happens when you're too quiet and the staff catches you. Within five minutes tops, Alpha, Beta, Gamma Delta and Epsilon companies are formed up on The Terrazzo four rows deep, ten cadets abreast standing at parade rest. The families take their place in the outer wings as a dinosaur by the name of Hayes, the Academy Sergeant Major, stomps onto the makeshift stage and fills out the holoscreens on either side of him. All my life I thought Capitolites were destined to be useless officers, yet he bucked the trend. I wonder what made him go NCO?
"Academy!" He bleats. "Atten-tion!"
Crisply, without error, we transition from parade rest to at attention, the sound of our boots and shoes stamping against the ground resonating throughout The Terrazzo. The ASM does an about face and snaps a salute to General Rudiger.
"Good morning, Warriors." she greets, her voice amplified by the microphones.
"Good morning, ma'am!" is what I and the entirety of the student body bark back in reply. She gives us the order to stand at ease. I know I'm grateful for the order. I couldn't recall the amount of times people drop like flies in the sun when meeting for assemblies like these.
"The brigade headquarters and I would like to extend a very warm welcome back to Barron Overwhill Academy after what has been a pivotal moment in our nation's history. Where would we be if we were to allow District 13 and Katniss Everdeen to lead us away from the Capitol's guiding light? Look to your right, towards the Reflection Chapel."
Our heads crane to the right as ordered. The Memorial Wall is shrouded by a black tarp and blocked off by construction. I'm sure there will be hundreds of names added by the time they announce the War's end.
"It may not look it, but this Academy is missing members of its body in both staff and students alike. Usually, our victors would be up here beside me. Unfortunately, they too were caught up in Everdeen's ignorant flames. Not to worry. It's obvious that their courage - their warrior spirit - passed on to all of you and with it, a new generation of men and women in white will be ready to preserve Panem a million times harder than those preceding you!"
All around me, cheers of "Hooah!" breakout through the formation. I too feel inspired but then I begin to remember the fact that Paulus was set to become District 2 male for the next Hunger Games. A victor is far more valuable than any four-gem general. A post-War victor, or tribute, that properly showcases how the Games are supposed to be treated.
"I've thought deeply about how to inaugurate another school year. A remembrance ceremony, a party...But with many of our staff still fighting to extinguish the flames of rebellion, we shall wait until all are accounted for. Be it on that hallowed wall by the Chapel or in our ranks proper. Until then, train hard and reform bonds with your fellow cadets. This upcoming school year is bound to be filled with surprises, but we're used to unusual situations, aren't we?"
After a resounding "Yes ma'am!" from us in reply, Commandant Rudiger grins, stepping aside as Sergeant Major Hayes steps back into view with no headdress in sight. It seems that Rudiger and the rest of the admin staff have put away their headdresses as well.
Domita's eyes light up with anticipation and glee as Beta Company staff get into position, essentially boxing all the students from front to back and side to side. They wouldn't want anyone to slack off on the push ups. "Awh yeah! You guys know what time it is!"
"Academy! Atten-tion! Half right...face!"
Perfectly synchronized, we turn at a forty-five degree angle, taking off our berets and placing them in our left pockets.
"Front leaning rest position...move!"
Domita cackling with glee, we immediately go down into push up position. While a very select few of us go on to be Careers, we're cadets aiming to become Peacekeepers in the near future first and foremost. We live for PT but Domita really lives for PT. Where two laps around campus would be a killer, Domita would think it to be a Sunday stroll. As the entire student body moves into push up position, in my peripherals I can see some of the family members reliving their cadet days by joining along. Everyone knows this drill, even if they've graduated years ago. "Mighty Warrior" push ups are a traditional push up cadence used at sporting events and the beginning and end of each school year.
"Hold...Up!" Sergeant Major Hayes barks, pushing himself upward.
"Warriors! Hooah!" we roar, following him as we all push up into an upright position. With a baritone voice all NCOs seem to carry, Hayes begins his cadence:
1 2 3 4!
1 2 3 2!
This is what we asked for!
The Mighty Warrior Academy!
One for the Capitol!
One for the President!
One for the Victors!
One for the Fallen!
One for Overwhill!
The Mighty Warrior Academy!
One for Overwhill!
The Mighty Warriror Acaedmy!
We repeat the cadence word for word, yelling on top of our lungs at the last stanza. For those few moments, the cobwebs surrounding my brain were all but cleaned up. It felt nice, but I know for a fact the webs would come back a mere couple of minutes from now. They never seem to go away permanently no matter how much exercise I do, no matter how much times Domita tries to cheer me up.
Hayes launches to his feet from the leaning rest position. "Re-cover!"
We spring back up into the attention position crying, "Warriors! Hooah!"
"You're free to go," Hayes says gruffly, fastening his headdress back on. "Once dismissed, head over to your respective hall's auditorium and wait out for your company commanders. As detailed...dis-missed!"
We don't get any time for respite, as soon as we do a right face and march off towards our kit, Floris and the other NCOs are barking at us to gather our crap and hustle to our respective hall.
...
After heading over to Naysmith Hall, which is essentially a hotel with the bare necessities, we're assigned dorm rooms. Not before Beta Company is broken down from a body of a hundred and twenty or so cadets to three platoons of about thirty. From there, we're broken into squads of ten and then 'battle buddies' of two. Bea and I immediately select each other as battle buddies.
The seniors occupy the topmost floors, garnering them the use of the elevators. We juniors have to contend with the various stairwells Naysmith Hall has to offer. It's a rat race of epic proportions. I thank the Sun that the staff haven't given us a timing to meet or else they'll be having us making love to The Terrazzo again in no time. With our kit packed onto us like tortoiseshells, we slowly inch our way to the sixth floor - where the boys of our platoon will take the eastern facing of rooms while the girls take the west, facing the campus proper.
The wonderment that comes with establishing your room with friends for the year takes my mind off more...prevalent thoughts. The thoughts and scenes don't go away but they're dulled just enough. I'm thankful regardless.
"I call ground bunk, Riv!" Bea announces.
I snort. "Funny...Usually people call dibs on the top bunk not the bottom..."
"A new year, a new Bea," she replies. "I'm not scrambling out of bed when staff comes knocking or there's a fire drill." She gasps, her eyes narrowing. "Oh Gods...do you think they'll do a fire drill?"
"You said it into existence!" Domita trills with a grin. "You better hope, for your sake, we don't do PT tomorrow if they do-"
"Make some room!" Callista cries. We do, parting as girls that I assume are cadets but are dressed in civvies, wheel out their kit from a room and make their way to the elevators. While some wear dreary expressions, others openly cry.
"It's hard to forget that not all of us left the War unscathed." Bea murmurs as we continue our walk. "With the arena being destroyed and all the unrest, some people might've not cleaned out their dorms. I don't blame people for wanting to stay a little closer to home."
"It's hard to forget not all of us left the War unscathed." I immediately think to myself. I may appear unscathed but I'm far from it. I cringe at her words, opting to just blank out until we trudge down the hall and finally arrive at our room for the next year. Almost in unison, we drag our kit to the middle of the room and drop them like a sack of potatoes.
"Yep," Hands on her hips, Domita strides over to the window and depolarizes it. We got a good view of The Terrazzo from here. "Home sweet home..."
It's expansive, seeing as Callista, Bea, Domita and I will be sharing with two more girls. We overlook The Terrazzo with three bunk beds, closets, drawers and numerous workstations. Just enough to function. If we want fun, the coed rec room is on the topmost floor and the mess hall is on the ground floor. When the NCOs loosen our leash, strolling about Naysmith hall, or any hall for that matter, could be a fun experience. It almost functions like a hotel if you take away the stringent rules.
"Well, I for one am content." Bea chirps. "Here's to a successful junior year with my beloved sisters-in-arms!"
In a surprising feat of strength, Bea forces us to stagger closer to the window overlooking our campus. As we all collectively sigh and take it all in, a sense of relief washes over me. Before arriving at the Academy, I felt a sense of deep worry. How would I function knowing that Mom, Dad and Paulus were...gone? But then people like Bea, Domita and even Callista are showing me that I'm not entirely alone.
And with them by side, I could stay sane for just a little while longer.
Coming up next...
I say into his ear, "You had a large part in this."
"Not really." He replies as he leans towards my ear as he gently moves my hair aside. The visions are starting to become prominent again but I allow him. "I wish your folks were here. They should've been here to see this."
He pulls away so that his eyes level with mine. He's too good. Too good for me. I offer him a somber grin, glancing up at the ceiling in an attempt to fend off the tears and save face. But it's no use.
"Me too," I say loud, turning to watch as the class begins to finally settle down. "Me too."
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!- A certified G.I Jane, many would consider her to be "one of the boys". Cadet Domita Wilson has been added to the blog.
!- Every group needs a nerd. He's a little (too) wiry for a Two, but he could assemble any weapons system and maintain any equipment better than any cadet. Garrison Forge has been added to the blog.
!- Every group has its ringleader, the glue that keeps it all together. Randall Pilsner has been added to the blog.
!- Every group has its sweetheart, the type of person to give you the clothes off their back. Beatrix Baines has been added to the blog.
!- Every group has their hypeperson. They're usually very loud and obnoxious but you appriciate them nonetheless. Callista Ryder has been added to the blog.
!- Overwhill Academy has a hybrid civilian/military system. When they were alive, the victors often took the role of headmaster - social and advisory patrons. The military aspect are headed by a commandant. That commandant is Brigadier General Rudiger who has been added to the blog.