Chapter 343: Induction - II

Tomas was called next. He selected a longer padded weapon, resembling the steel rod he used during their time in the commercial building.

Unlike the other two, Tomas preferred keeping his opponent at the end of his weapon, using its reach to control the distance between them. He kept his hands spaced along the shaft, ready to shorten his grip if the instructor closed in.

The instructor approached. Tomas opened with a quick thrust toward the man’s chest before withdrawing the weapon and following with a strike from the side. The soldier avoided both attacks.

When the man attempted to close the distance, Tomas stepped backward and brought the weapon across his body. For several seconds, the two moved around the training area, with Tomas changing his position whenever the soldier attempted to approach from an angle.

Then the soldier cut through the gap. Tomas saw the man advancing and shortened his grip, bringing the weapon across his body to intercept him. But the soldier was already inside his reach.

One hand caught the practice weapon while the other tapped his chest.

"Point."

"Shit."

"Your reach is useful. Don’t rely on it too much."

"Understood."

He tried again. This time, he changed his grip earlier, keeping the weapon closer to his body as he approached.

He delivered two short strikes before stepping away, then attempted a longer thrust when the instructor followed. The soldier redirected the weapon and caught it near the middle. Before Tomas could withdraw, the man tapped his shoulder.

"Second point."

Tomas exhaled.

"Can I try something different?"

"Go ahead."

He adjusted his stance and moved forward. The instructor stepped toward him. Instead of committing to another attack, Tomas suddenly withdrew and moved toward the soldier’s flank.

He intended to force the instructor to turn before bringing his weapon around from the opposite direction. It was something he had been practicing during their earlier sessions.

The soldier turned with him. Tomas saw the movement and attempted to change direction again, but the instructor stepped forward before he could recover his stance. A hand touched his chest.

"Third point."

Tomas lowered his weapon.

"Well, that was terrible."

"Not entirely."

The soldier took the practice weapon from him.

"Your movements are getting better, but you’re deciding too late. By the time you change your approach, your opponent has already moved."

Tomas rubbed the back of his head.

"Does that mean I passed?"

"That’s for the assessment team to decide."

Tomas returned to the waiting area.

Bram looked at him.

"So? How was it?"

"You expect me to bring a miracle?"

Bram shrugged.

Mara’s name was called next. Mara took a small shield and padded baton from the rack, then stepped onto the mat and settled into her stance.

Unlike the three boys, she hadn’t spent much time carrying weapons during their escape. She helped gather supplies, kept track of the barricades, and watched the routes connecting the rooftops. Whenever the others were fighting, she was usually the one telling them where to move.

During training, she learned to keep the shield between herself and an opponent, guard her legs, and counterattack after a block. She could do all that against another recruit. Against a three-star soldier, her timing failed her.

The instructor approached. Mara raised her shield and took a short step forward, keeping the baton ready behind it. The woman feinted to Mara’s right.

Mara shifted the shield to intercept, then stepped sideways to prevent the instructor from moving past her guard. But the soldier changed direction halfway through the approach. Mara started to turn, but something tapped her side.

"Point."

When Mara turned, the instructor was already standing several steps away.

"Again."

Mara returned to her stance. She watched the instructor’s shoulders and hips this time, trying to recognize which direction the woman intended to move.

The drills taught them to watch an opponent’s body instead of chasing the weapon. It worked against the other applicants.

The woman stepped forward. Mara recognized the beginning of the attack and moved to intercept her. She even managed to place the shield in the correct position. But before she could bring her baton around for a counterattack, the instructor slipped past her guard.

"Second point."

Mara frowned. She had read the approach correctly, but her counterattack was late.

The instructor returned to her starting position.

"One more."

Mara adjusted her grip on the shield. She’d tried meeting this woman’s attacks head-on in earlier sessions, too. It never worked.

Mara glanced at the boundary markers. Maybe she could limit the woman’s approach. She moved closer to the edge of the training area, keeping enough space behind her to retreat if necessary.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

The soldier approached. Mara raised her shield but didn’t attack.

When the instructor moved toward her side, Mara stepped backward and turned the shield, encouraging the woman to follow along the boundary. The instructor followed.

Mara shifted her weight, then suddenly stepped around the woman, attempting to reach the open space behind her while bringing the baton toward her exposed side. Against another applicant, she might have managed to slip past, but the instructor turned before Mara could finish the movement. A hand touched her shoulder.

"Third point."

Mara stopped. For a moment, she stared at the empty space she had been trying to reach.

"Ah, damn it."

The instructor lowered her hand.

"Why did you move toward the boundary?"

"I wanted you to approach from one direction."

"And then?"

"I thought I could get around you."

The woman didn’t react.

"Then why didn’t it work?"

"Because... I was too slow."

The instructor smiled.

Mara returned the equipment and walked back toward her friends. Bram was waiting with his arms crossed.

"You lost?"

"Yeah. These people are really fast."

"What do you expect? They’re soldiers."

"No." Mara shook her head, watching the instructors work with the remaining applicants.

"Even the ones who were soldiers before the Event can’t keep up with them."

...

By the time the last applicants finished, the sun was dipping behind the buildings.

A member of the recruitment staff collected their equipment and told everyone to return to their quarters. The assessment team still had reports to review.

"So when do we get the results?" Bram asked.

"You’ll be informed when they’re ready."

"Tomorrow?"

"When they’re ready, candidate."

Niko caught Bram by the sleeve and pulled him away before he could ask a third time.

"You really don’t know when to stop talking, do you?"

"I was just asking."

"Twice."

The four followed the other applicants out of the training grounds. Mara’s shoulders ached from holding the shield all afternoon, while Tomas kept stretching the hand that gripped his practice weapon.

Bram walked ahead of them, making short swings with an imaginary machete whenever he thought nobody was watching.

"Still fighting him?" Mara asked.

"I’m figuring out where I went wrong."

"He told you where you went wrong."

"Well, he could’ve told me how to hit him."

Tomas laughed. "If he knew how to teach us that in a few weeks, we’d all be as powerful as they are by now."

They stopped at the dining area for their evening meal before returning to the lodging building assigned to the civilian applicants. Other recruits were already there, some comparing their assessments and others too tired to talk.

The four found a table in the small common room outside their quarters. Tomas was still trying to work out how the instructor caught his weapon so easily. He demonstrated the grip with a spoon until Mara told him to stop swinging it near her face.

"I didn’t hit you."

"You nearly did."

"That’s closer than any of us got today," Niko said.

Bram snorted, but his smile didn’t last.

"What if they don’t take all four of us?"

The question caught Mara off guard. Bram was usually the one insisting they’d pass, even after the worst training sessions.

"We haven’t seen the results," she said.

"I know. I’m asking what happens if one of us fails."

Niko leaned back in his chair. "Then we’ll have to find out what comes next. You can always try again, can’t you?"

"Maybe."

Tomas set the spoon down. "I don’t think losing to those soldiers is what decides it. Half the people out there couldn’t even get close."

"Yeah," Bram said, although he didn’t look convinced.

They stayed together a while longer, talking about their aching arms, the other applicants, and whether they would be made to run again the next morning.

Eventually, the boys headed for their corridor and Mara returned to her own room.

She put her applicant papers inside the old schoolbag she’d carried out of the commercial building. Its strap had been repaired since then, but she still used it for everything.

Outside, vehicles passed along the road beyond the lodging block. Mara listened for footsteps in the corridor whenever someone walked by, though no one had promised the results that evening.

After a while, she stopped listening and went to bed.