The next morning arrived with Corbin’s familiar demanding presence, though he at least permitted me to finish breakfast before dragging me to the shooting range. Every step sent sharp reminders through my body from yesterday’s punishment, but I refused to let him see any weakness. My pride wouldn’t allow him that satisfaction.
At the range, I snatched up a weapon with practiced efficiency. The siren’s shrill call echoed through the facility, and I plunged into the course with determination coursing through my veins.
Something felt wrong immediately. The familiar moving targets that usually challenged my reflexes were nowhere to be found. No werewolf silhouettes emerged from behind barriers, no civilian cutouts appeared for me to protect. The course stretched before me, empty and eerily silent.
A sudden, searing pain exploded through the back of my thigh, sending me crashing to the concrete floor. My vision blurred as agony radiated from the impact point.
Corbin’s boots appeared in my peripheral vision as he approached with calculated slowness. In his hands was some kind of modified weapon I’d never seen before. He yanked a dart from my leg with clinical detachment.
“That burning sensation? That’s exactly what a bullet feels like tearing through muscle. The effects will fade soon enough, but now you understand what real combat means.”
“What the hell is this about?” I demanded through gritted teeth.
“Simple. You’re going to hunt me down and take me out.”
His words hit me like ice water. We were about to engage in live combat training, predator versus predator.
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He confiscated my standard weapon and handed me one of those dart guns instead. Apparently, he didn’t trust me not to put actual ammunition into him given the chance.
I limped back to the starting position, my leg still throbbing from his surprise attack. When the siren wailed again, I moved with deliberate caution through the maze–like course. Every shadow could conceal danger. Every sound
demanded my complete attention.
The training area had been sealed off today. No observers in the gallery, no witnesses to whatever twisted game Corbin wanted to play. Just the two of
us locked in this concrete arena.
He proved himself a formidable opponent. Time after time, darts found their mark before I even spotted him. Hours dragged by with me sprawled on the floor, pain coursing through different parts of my body as he systematically hunted me down.
His refusal to let me leave until I succeeded only fueled my growing rage. Each failure added another layer of fury to the fire building inside me.
I reset once more after the latest dart’s sting faded from my shoulder blade. This time, something shifted. My anger had crystallized into laser focus.
Footsteps. Barely audible, but unmistakably real. They came from somewhere close but not in my immediate vicinity.
That was impossible. The course’s acoustics were specifically designed to muffle such sounds. I’d never been able to hear footsteps before in all my years of training here.
I froze, processing this new information. Then Corbin rounded the corner ahead of me, moving with his usual predatory confidence.
The dart gun bucked in my hands before I’d even consciously decided to fire. The projectile caught him center mass, and he dropped to his knees with a grunt of surprise.
Rather than gloat, I simply dropped the weapon at his feet and walked past
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him without a word. I needed air and space away from his twisted training
methods.
Outside, I collapsed against the building’s exterior wall and tugged off my boots to assess the damage from yesterday’s torture. Bracing myself for the sight of raw, bleeding flesh, I peeled away my socks.
Nothing.
My feet were completely unmarked. Smooth, healthy skin showed no trace of the horrific blisters and open wounds that had been there just hours ago. Last night I’d thrown away blood–soaked socks and could barely hobble to my bunk.
Had I imagined the entire ordeal? Exhaustion could play tricks on the mind, but the pain had been undeniably real. The evidence of my suffering had been right there.
This made no sense whatsoever.
Asher’s approach interrupted my confused examination. I quickly shoved my boots back on, not wanting to explain something I couldn’t understand myself.
“Everything okay?” he asked with genuine concern.
“Fine. I finally took the bastard down so I could get out of there.”
“What’s his endgame here? This seems excessive even for Hunter training.”
“No clue. Maybe we should disappear before he recovers and dreams up something worse.”
Asher helped me to my feet, and we made our way toward the library building.
The quiet space was blessedly empty. I grabbed a random book from the shelves, desperate for anything other than the same novel I’d been rereading endlessly. We settled at a corner table where I could finally let my guard
down.
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Too many impossible things were happening simultaneously. My mysteriously healed feet, Corbin’s escalating brutality, my complicated relationship with Asher, his persistent questions about escaping this place.
My mind felt like a battlefield where too many wars were being fought at
once.
Asher seemed to understand my need for silence. He sat beside me without attempting conversation, offering nothing but his steady presence. The quiet between us felt natural and comforting rather than awkward.
I spent the rest of the day deliberately avoiding Corbin’s presence. After everything I’d endured recently, I decided I’d earned a reprieve from his training regimen.
“I really want to get you away from here if Corbin’s going to continue this harassment,” Asher said as we headed toward the mess hall.
“I know you do. But we both understand that’s not realistic.”
He nodded reluctantly. “I still don’t understand why you’re so valuable to them. Military bases don’t typically adopt children.”
“I’ve never met anyone else they’ve done this to. Maybe I’m their experiment. If I turn out successfully, perhaps that’s their recruitment strategy moving forward.”
“Don’t you ever question their motives?”
“You learn quickly not to challenge their decisions here. I’ve accepted my
situation.”
“Well, I still want to take you somewhere safe,” he said softly.
I managed a small smile despite everything. “Thank you for caring. Nobody ever has before.”
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