C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (12 page)

Chris was another friendship that Jake had come to cherish.  He was like a brother to both Jake and Donnie.  He looked up to them.  Their combined support and encouragement gave him the much-needed self-confidence he needed to make it through each day.

Tactically Chris was the weakest of the team, though he was also the best shot in the class.  He had a natural ability for long-range targets and could easily hit them from hundreds of yards away.  Lt. Perry took great pleasure in encouraging his gift, even going so far as to award him with the same model sniper rifle she used in the field.  A Remington 700P, that according to Perry was one of the best sniper rifles ever produced.

Along with his training, for one week out of each month, Ben worked with him, introducing his son to connections in local law enforcement and various other government agencies.  On his down time (what little there was) Chris was working with the computers in Billy’s safe room.  He claimed to have plans to revolutionize how hunting took place by developing software that would create an online library on all Vampire activity within the past hundred years.

Buck continued to be the outsider of the group, though he didn’t seem to realize it.  Most of the others tried to avoid him whenever they could.  All except Amber, who for some unknown reason, continued her relationship with him.  He spent most of his training with Lt. Smart, learning different varieties of explosives and how to use them effectively.

Whisper, given her Comanche name because of her shy and quiet disposition, was the more serious of the two sisters.  She had a hard time talking to people and didn’t have any real relationships other than with Amber and Diana.  She was easily the best tracker on the team.  There wasn’t a man or woman other than her father that could match her.  Especially Jake; he had the hardest time finding signs and following trails. 

Diana, who had never stopped trying to gain Jake’s attention, trained with her father and sister in tracking even on their weekly day off.  If Talon wasn’t on a hunt, he was at the Ranch working with his daughters. Though she wasn’t at Whisper’s level, she continued to exceed above the rest of the class.

By the end of the third month, it was more than clear to the trainers that of all the members of the team, Jake was the one having the hardest time finding his place.  He wasn’t the team leader like Donnie, or the team explosives expert like Buck or a computer expert like Chris.  He wasn’t a tracker like Diana or Whisper.  He was one of the stronger fighters but had been beaten more times than he’d like to count by Amber.  He was just himself, Jake Bishop, stuck somewhere in the middle.  Not great in any one area, but not terrible either.  It bothered him greatly and in his training, he had begun to struggle.

It began to fade altogether, when Ortega introduced his obstacle course.  Over a hundred yards of slippery ten-foot high walls, muddy underwater pipes, trenches filled with mud and razor wire, rolling balance logs, rope bridges, and through it all their axes had to remain somewhere on their person.  It was a real beast of a course that Ortega had named Lucifer’s Playground.  The recruits referred to it simply as The Playground.

To make matters worse Jake could have sworn that Ortega was riding him harder than the rest of the group.  Pushing him to the absolute limit.

“Get off your ass Bishop!  You worthless piece of vampire shit!”  Ortega yelled.

“Yes Drill Sergeant!” Jake yelled climbing to his feet only to trip in the half-frozen mud again.  His lungs screamed in agony as he breathed in the icy cold air.

“You’re worthless!” Ortega screamed.  “You hear me worm!  You ain’t shit!  Why don’t you do me a favor and quit!”

“No Drill Sergeant!” Jake screamed back, gritting his teeth. 

This course was by far the worst of the training for Jake.  Worse yet was that he was the last of the group to complete it under time.  Even Chris beat him by a good two minutes.

Jake trudged through the waist deep mud, pulling a fifty-pound bag of weights behind him.  His axe gripped tightly in his right hand.  Jake stumbled out of the pit finally crossing the finish line.  Dropping the bag to the ground, he rolled over onto his back coughing and panting, his breath pouring from his lungs as a fog.

“Yeah worm!  Lie there in the mud!” Ortega yelled kicking a wad of icy mud in his face. “That’s where you belong!”

Jake tried to rise but Ortega shoved him back into the mud with his boot.  “Sixteen minutes!” he exclaimed.  “Are you kidding me?!  I didn’t think it was possible but you are actually getting slower!  Goddammit boy!  Are you wasting my time?”

“No Drill Sergeant!” Jake said, rolling over and pushing himself to his feet.

“Bullshit!  You’re worthless!” Ortega yelled standing mere inches from Jake’s face.  “Worthless!”  Bits of spit landed on Jake’s face.

Jake stood still as a statue fighting the cough threatening to erupt from his lungs.  It took everything he had to keep from knocking Ortega into next week.  He wanted it more than anything in this world.  More than he wanted to kill vampires.  Even more than he wanted to beat Buck’s running time and wipe that shit eating grin off his face.

Ortega continued to berate him for another five minutes in front of the other recruits.  Amber, covered in head to toe with mud stared at him, her eyes filled with concern.  He focused entirely on her.  That was his strength.  Even if she was technically dating the person he wanted to beat more than any other, he could still cling to the hope that one day she would see the light and he would have his chance.

“Bishop!” Ortega said, breaking him out of his daydream.  “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes Drill Sergeant!” he lied.

“What did I just say?” Ortega said, eyeballing him.

Unable to hold it another minute, the cough came out shaking his body. “I’m worthless Drill Sergeant!” he managed between coughs.  “Not worth the shit on your boot heel, Drill Sergeant!” Jake said, taking a wild guess.

Ortega stared at him for several long seconds then turned his back.  “Get out of my sight.  Go grow a pair, then come back and see if you can run this course like a real man.  Sixteen minutes!”  He walked away spitting into the mud pit.  “Training’s over for today!  Go get cleaned up and get some chow!  Tomorrow I expect each of you to do this in half the time!  Is that understood?!”

“Yes Drill Sergeant!”  Everyone but Jake echoed.

Jake bent over coughing up wads of phlegm.  He breathed in as deeply as he could then pulled the rope holding the weights from around his shoulders and dropped them into the mud before slowly making a beeline for the makeshift showers near their cabin.  Donnie came walking up beside him and started to say something.  Jake held up his hand stopping him.  “Donnie . . . not now,” he said, continuing his walk.  Violent coughs began tearing through his body as he walked across the frozen ground. 

Stepping through the flap of the boy's shower tent, he angrily threw his axe down on the ground, before stripping out of his muddy clothes.  Balling them up in his fists he tossed them into the dirty clothes bin then stepped into the closest stall.  As an afterthought, he reached back out, grabbed the handle of the axe, and leaned it against the wall next to him.  It was absolutely freezing inside.  His teeth chattered as he turned the red knob for the hot water.  It poured over him burning his skin, but Jake toughed it out until his body grew accustomed to the temperature.  For some reason, he just could not seem to get warm.  Steam rose around him as it hit the freezing cold air.  Buck, Chris, and Donnie entered and showered.  Long after they were gone, Jake still stood with the steaming hot water pouring over his shoulders. 

He’d never felt so defeated in his entire life.  Every bone in his body was telling him to quit, to give up.  He could still be a Hunter.  He could probably get a spot with one of the lesser groups not associated with the Coalition.  It wouldn’t be up to par with Billy’s crew but it was better than nothing was.  Tears streamed down his cheeks.  He angrily wiped them away turning his face into the hot water. 
No! 
He screamed inside his head. 
No!  No!  No!  No!

A rage began to build inside him, an uncontrollable storm that threatened to rip him in two. 
No!
  He would not join some lesser crew.  He had what it took!  He would be the best!  Jake grabbed the dial soap from its perch and rubbed rigorously at the remaining mud caked to his body. 
He can’t break me!  Riker couldn’t break me!  No one can break me!   I’m a Bishop dammit! 
A long string of coughs escaped his lungs and Jake spit out a mouthful of phlegm.

Angrily he finished washing then rinsed off.  Turning off the water, he barely felt the cold air as it stripped at his flesh.  Grabbing a towel he wrapped it tightly around his waist, snatched up his axe then exited the tent and stormed into the cabin.  Without saying a single word to Buck, Chris, or Donnie he dressed as quickly as he could, ran back outside.  As he exited, he heard Buck say, “What the hell’s gotten into him?”

Jake ignored him and marched across the half-frozen grass to the Instructors’ cabin.  Taking a deep breath to clear his throat he knocked on the door three times with the flat side of the axe then waited.

Lt. Perry opened the door with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.  “Bishop?  Can I help you with something?” she said then took a sip.

“Yes Lt.” He dropped his axe head to the ground and leaned on the handle for support. “I’m looking for Drill Sergeant Ortega.”  He coughed a ragged cough.  “Is he available?”

“Recruit!  Stand at attention when you address me,” she ordered.

So much for not being trained as soldier,
Jake thought, standing up straight, his axe gripped at his side.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“Lt. I would like to run the course again.”  He wheezed painfully.  “I feel I’m up to it.”

Lt. Perry looked around before taking two steps out onto the porch closing the door behind her.  In a quiet voice she said, “go get some sleep.  Come back tomorrow when you are well rested.  You don’t want to do this right now.  If you fail the course one more time, Ortega is kicking you out of the program.  He has already spoken to the Sergeant Major about it.”

“But Lt. I know I ca . . .” Jake started to say. 

“That’s an order Bishop,” she said, her face going serious.  “Now get some chow and get some sleep and have Lt. Smart check out that cough.”

“Yes Lt.” Jake turned on his heels and marched back to his cabin.

He was almost there when a hard, but gentle hand on his left shoulder stopped him in his tracks.  Jack turned around ready to swing his axe.  “Dammit Chef!”  He cursed when he saw the tall, overweight man with a NY Yankee cap that just barely fit his large pale white head, standing behind him.  “You can’t just sneak up on someone like that!  Say something next time!”

Chef frowned and motioned with his hands to his mouth.

Jake instantly felt like a complete asshole.  Chef was mute.  “Chef, man I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean it.”

Chef punched him in the arm and smiled letting him know it was okay.  Again, Jake started coughing and had to spit out a wad of phlegm.

Chef gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a concerned look.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

Chef gave him a look letting him know he saw through him then motioned in the direction of the mess hall.  One of the largest of the five cabins where everyone met to eat in the evenings.

“No thanks,” Jake choked out, his voice starting to get hoarse.  “I’m not hungry.”

Chef motioned for him to come with him.

“No Chef, I’m just going to get some rack time.  I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” he left before Chef could object.

“What’s up Worm?” Buck asked with a snicker when he walked through the door.  Jake ignored him.  The only thing he removed before climbing into his bunk were his boots.

“Jake you coming?” Donnie asked as he finished lacing up his boots.  “Talon is talking to us tonight and word is we’re having meatloaf for dinner.  I know how much you love Chef’s meatloaf.”

I’m done Donnie.  Done,
Jake wanted to say.  Instead, he rolled over onto his side without answering and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders.

As the others went to eat, he lay there staring at the wall.  The sun set in the west and a cold wind rattled through the cabin.  Jake’s body shook with the bitter cold.  He looked over and for the first time realized that no one had lit the stove.  If he didn’t get it started soon it would be a very cold night for them all.

With trembling fingers and snot dripping from his nose, Jake laced his boots.  He sniffed it back and climbed to his feet stretching out his aching back, then put on his heaviest coat.  His hand wrapped around the grip of his axe.  He picked it up before thinking twice. 
Screw it. 
He tossed it carelessly to the wooden floor.
  I’m pretty much done anyway, why carry that heavy piece of shit one more inch.

Shakily Jake stepped outside and picked up several logs from the giant pile.  Again a cough racked his body and he spit out another large wad of brown phlegm then cleared his sinuses with a finger pressed to each nostril.  He’d been feeling poorly for several days now and it didn’t seem to be getting any better. 
The Lt. was right.  I need to see Smart
.  Something odd caught the corner of his eye, sending a chill up his spine that had nothing to do with the weather.

He purposefully dropped one of the logs, then knelt down and scanned the surrounding area.  Three figures stood two hundred yards away on a small hill, silhouetted in the moonlight.  It was clear they weren’t human but they weren’t vampires either.  The largest stood at least eight feet tall, its body covered from head to toe in long hair.  The smallest was somewhere near seven feet tall. 

Jake had the distinct feeling that they were all watching him.  Picking up his log he quickly walked back to the cabin.  He opened the door and dropped the logs on the floor then turned looking back to where the creatures had been.  They were gone.  A shiver ran down his spine.
Sweet Jesus what the hell was that!  I must be losing my mind.  Now I’m seeing things!
  Terrified, Jake slammed the door shut, pulled his axe out of the floor and climbed back under the blankets of his rack not even bothering to pull his boots off.  His body shivered worse than ever.  He lay on the tiny cot shaking, the axe held firmly to his chest until Buck came back from chow.