Ellen felt the burn in her muscles as she strained to lift herself over the eight-foot wooden wall. Her arms trembled, her palms stung from raw friction, and every fiber of her being screamed for rest. But rest wasn't an option. Not now, not here.
"Faster, recruit!" a voice barked, sharp as a whip crack. The instructor's shadow loomed at the corner of her vision, but Ellen didn't dare look. She dug deep, swinging her leg over the top of the wall and dropping onto the other side with a grunt.
Her knees buckled as she hit the ground, sand spraying around her boots. No time to recover—she was already sprinting toward the next obstacle, her heart hammering in her chest like a war drum.
This is Marine training, she thought grimly. And it's only the second day.
When Ellen woke up to the alarm, she felt horrible. Her muscles burned and while she wasn't sure how much she had slept, it was definitely not enough.
"Good morning, ladies," Gunnery Chief Grayson called across the hall. "I'll be awaiting all of you in front of your rooms, ready to go, in ten minutes."
When Ellen finally dragged herself out of bed, every muscle in her body protested. Casey mumbled something incoherent, clutching her pillow like it was her last lifeline, while Ida had already bounced off the bed with irritating ease.
"Give it up, Casey," Ida said with a grin, yanking her training uniform off the chair. "No one's coming to rescue you."
"Mercy," Casey groaned. "Just smother me now."
Ellen chuckled tiredly, grabbing her toiletries. But the moment her fingers closed around the cool metal of her toothbrush, her mind flashed back to the night before. She couldn't help glancing down the hall as they gathered outside their rooms.
Lauren. Had she made it?
The question gnawed at her until she spotted a familiar flash of red hair three doors down. Lauren was tying her unruly bun and laughing with her roommates, her posture relaxed. Relief washed over Ellen, and she exhaled for what felt like the first time that morning.
"Attention!" Gunnery Chief Grayson's voice boomed down the hallway, snapping everyone into rigid lines. He strolled past, his eyes sharp as he scrutinized their uniforms.
"Another wonderful day is coming," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've got twenty minutes for breakfast. After that, meet me at the obstacle course. Be late, and I will notice."
As his boots clattered up the stairs, Ellen exchanged a weary look with Ida and Casey.
"Just once," Casey muttered, "I wish he'd oversleep."
A perky Olivia stepped up to Ellen and trilled, "Morning, Ellen."
"Not too much good mood in the morning, she can't take that yet," Norah called over teasingly. Ellen gave her a grim look.
Tired, the group shuffled to the canteen, where a not so appetizing-looking porridge and some fruit awaited them. When Ellen was seated with her portion, her friends took the other seats.
"How bad was yesterday, Lauren?" Norah asked while peeling a banana.
Lauren shrugged. "Exhausting, but after half an hour we were allowed to go."
"I couldn't have held out any longer!" Alex threw in impressed.
The men also came into the canteen and spread out on the free tables, whereupon Alex craned her neck curiously. Ellen couldn't help but laugh because it was always the same with Alex. Whenever they had started a new class, she had her sights set on a new Prince Charming - much to the dismay of her mother, who had always demanded that she'd focus more on her studies.
"Alex, no! We're not in high school anymore!" Norah said, following her gaze as well. But Alex ignored her, emptied her tray and walked over to the men who were just getting their breakfast.
Ellen replied, "Let her have some fun, the day will be exhausting enough."
Little did she know that she'd be damn right about that.
The first few obstacles passed in a blur of adrenaline and grit. Ellen's number—13—was stamped in bold black ink on the front of her shirt, now streaked with sweat and dirt. She cleared the wooden beams with relative ease and landed in the sandpit below with a satisfying thud.
But the eight-foot wall loomed ahead like an insurmountable mountain. Her pulse quickened as she approached it, and she forced herself to push off the ground with every ounce of strength she had left. Her fingers clawed at the rough wood, her arms trembling as she hauled herself upward.
"You've got this," she whispered to herself through gritted teeth.
Her chest scraped against the edge as she swung a leg over. For a moment, she teetered, nearly losing her balance. But gravity favored her, and she dropped to the other side, stumbling slightly as her boots hit the dirt.
"Move it, Webber!" The instructor's voice rang in her ears, spurring her forward.
Next came the balance logs. Ellen's confidence faltered as she stepped onto the first one, her arms outstretched for balance. The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. Don't fall, don't fall...
She fell.
Groaning, she scrambled back to the start, her frustration boiling over. By the third attempt, her legs were shaking so badly she thought she'd collapse. Somehow, she made it, sprinting toward the low wires with renewed determination.
The sand beneath the wires was coarse and abrasive, clinging to her sweat-soaked arms and legs as she crawled through. Every movement felt like dragging herself through molasses. A recruit ahead of her kicked up sand in her face, and she nearly gagged.
"Faster, Webber!" the instructor bellowed.
I'm trying, damn it! Ellen thought but bit her tongue, focusing instead on clawing her way forward.
Like a startled rabbit, Ellen ran towards the next station, a field of tripwires. Her task was to cover the ten meter stretch without getting caught, which she almost succeeded in doing, but she fell in the last few meters. However, she didn't let that deter her, because she only had one final station ahead of her, which consisted of several thick tree trunks that she had to climb over. After she had mastered that, too, she ran across the finish line. Gunnery Chief Grayson recorded the time on a datapad.
"Ho... ly... shit," said a panting Alex next to Ellen.
"El, you're bleeding," Lauren called over to them. Astonished, Ellen wiped her face and noticed a scratch on her right cheek. That must have happened when she fell on the tripwire. "Oh," she said in surprise, looking at the blood on her fingers. One of the instructors approached her and took a quick look at the injury. "It doesn't need stitches, you can carry on."
Ellen nodded and wiped the blood off her hand with some sand.
By now everyone had completed the course and Chief Grayson stood in front of the group.
"We checked all your times and found that you are even slower than expected. We will now repeat the course a few more times and if you can't do it in less than 10 minutes by then, you can pack your things."
"Are we getting our times from the first lap, sir?" asked a recruit.
"No, none of you passed anyway. Look for the fastest runner and try to be better, then you shouldn't have any problems."
Ellen knew what that meant. There would be an incredible jostle and shove - this was the unofficial start of the fierce competition among recruits. The group shuffled back to the starting point and at the signal they all started running again.
After her third round, Ellen somehow had made it. Norah and Alex were already waiting for her, but nobody said anything. With anxious eyes they saw the next recruits arrive. Olivia was among them.
"You just made it, everyone else after you only has one try."
Shortly thereafter, Lauren trotted through the finish line and hung her head. Norah went to her and tried to talk to her encouragingly. "You can make it. You were just a few seconds to slow."
"I don't think I can," Lauren murmured, shuffling back to the starting point with ten other recruits. Ellen thought about how to help her for a moment, then ran after her.
"Ellen, where are you going?" Alex called after her, but Ellen just waved her off. When Ellen shook off her tiredness and caught up with her friend, Lauren gave her a confused look.
"I'll run with you and push you a bit," she explained. Lauren smiled gratefully and nodded.
They got back to the starting line and started sprinting as soon as the whistle blew. The first obstacles passed in a blur, each station pushing Ellen to the brink. Yet, she felt a glimmer of hope—they were keeping pace. That hope shattered when, near the end of the crawling pit, a recruit ahead of them lashed out with his boot. The heel struck Lauren squarely on the forehead with a sickening thud.
Lauren let out a muffled groan and slumped into the sand. The offender barely glanced back, continuing forward as if nothing had happened.
"Lauren!" Ellen scrambled over, heart pounding, and froze when she saw the swelling already rising on her friend's forehead. "Can you move?"
Lauren wobbled to her knees, clutching her head. "I… think so," she murmured, dazed.
Ellen's gaze darted to the nearest instructor, but his stoic expression offered no help. If they stopped now, Lauren would fail. Swallowing her panic, Ellen grabbed her friend's arm and hauled her to her feet. "We're finishing this. Stay with me, okay?"
She pulled her towards the next obstacle. It was difficult to maneuver her through the last stations because she was in a trance most of the time, but somehow Ellen managed. However, she was sure that they were no longer on time, because everyone else had already overtaken them and finished the course.
"El, I can't take it anymore," Lauren mumbled, sagging.
"NO," Ellen exclaimed. They only had one more tree trunk to climb before they would reach their destination. She couldn't and wouldn't let Lauren get kicked out that easily. It was her dream to go to medical school and she wouldn't be able to do it any other way.
At the finish line, Gunnery Chief Grayson loomed like a sentinel, his datapad in hand. Ellen half-dragged Lauren across the line, her arms trembling from the effort. She carefully lowered her friend to the ground and stood to attention, sweat dripping into her eyes.
Grayson glanced at his datapad, then at Ellen. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a note of approval.
"Number 13, you had already passed," he said.
"Yes, sir," Ellen replied, her voice steady despite the exhaustion.
"Then why did you run again?"
"A good Marine doesn't leave her comrades behind, sir."
Grayson's lips twitched—almost a smile. He turned back to his datapad. "Number 23 passed in 9 minutes and 59 seconds."
The outburst came instantly.
"Excuse me?!" A stocky male recruit stormed forward, his face flushed with anger. "She came in at least half a minute after me, and you told me I failed! Why does she pass and I don't?"
Grayson's gaze snapped to the recruit, sharp as a blade. He stepped forward, his imposing presence silencing the man mid-rant.
"Because I chose it that way," Grayson said coldly. "Number 23 would have made time if you hadn't deliberately kicked her in the head." His voice grew even colder. "Our instructor at the station saw it. You left her injured and didn't care. A good Marine doesn't abandon their comrades. That's why you fail, and she doesn't."
The recruit's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He looked like a deflated balloon as Grayson dismissed him with a wave.
Grayson turned to Ellen as the group dispersed. "Good job, Webber," he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.
Ellen straightened, pride swelling in her chest. "Thank you, sir."
Two women and one man had failed. Everyone else had to go through a tough athletic program again for the rest of the day, but there were no more competitions or tests to sort people out. During the practice, Ellen noticed the scrutinizing looks of the others. Obviously she had caused quite a stir. After the last strenuous sessions, she went into her room to get some things for the shower and when Lauren surprised her with a tight hug from behind
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, giving her a peck on the cheek. Ellen laughed.
"You are welcome."
Lauren pulled away from her and Ellen looked at the small bandage on her head.
"How are you?"
"I've got a mild concussion and I'm supposed to sit out at least tomorrow," Lauren replied with a shrug.
"Lucky you!" Casey exclaimed as she walked into the room with Ida. "I would give anything for a little vacation."
"And that's just after the second day," Ida replied teasingly, whereupon Casey threw one of her off boots at her.
Lauren giggled. "You guys are doing really well. I'll be on my way to the canteen. See you later," she said and disappeared.