C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (9 page)

“Alright pukes!  Move your asses!” Ortega ordered.  “Get to those logs!”

The four boys jogged over to the logs and stood in line at attention.  Sergeant Major Castle picked up a razor sharp, double bladed axe and with his left hand tossed it end over end into the air.  It landed with a whack in his right hand. 
“This
is your new best!  You will not take a piss without it at your side.  If I catch you without it in arms reach, I will personally make it my life’s goal to kick your ass until you cannot walk again.  Is that understood?”

“Yes Sergeant Major!” they yelled.

“Bishop!”  Ortega tossed an axe at Jake.  He missed it entirely the blade raked across his pants giving it a rip.  He felt lucky he hadn’t lost a leg.

“Bishop!  You little bitch!  Give me fifty push-ups!  Now!”

Jake hit the ground his hands burying deep into the icy cold snow.  Soon Chris and Buck were right there beside him.

“Williams show ‘um how it’s done!”  Castle tossed another axe at Donnie who easily snatched it from the air.  “Well done, at least you’re not completely useless.  On your feet maggots!  Pick up those axes and get to chopping!”

Jake leapt to his feet breathing heavily, pins and needles racing through his freezing cold hands.  He heaved the heavy axe out of the snow and went to chopping logs.  Three hours later his hands were blistered, his skin split, but he continued chopping.  He wasn’t about to drop out at the very first task. 
That’s exactly what they want.

Lucas and Castle had left the boys to their work.  Jake assumed it was to check on the girl’s training. 
I wonder what they are doing?  Man I would love to see Amber swinging an axe. 
He thought. 
Come on Jake!  Focus on the task at hand.  Focus . . . focus on that tight ass of hers.  Stop it!  Chopping wood, chopping wood, chopping wood.

Only Ortega remained.  He stood stock still with his massive arms crossed over his chest.  The only movement he made was to pull a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses out of his breast pocket as the sun rose in the east.  He placed them over his eyes and didn’t move again.  Jake wouldn’t have known he was alive if not for the foggy breath coming from his nose.

"My hands are killing me," Chris said, dropping the heavy axe.

"Come on Chris, you can do it," Donnie said, splitting another log.  "Just thirty or so more and you're done."

"Yeah just thirty more of these indestructible logs and you're all done," Jake said, swinging his axe again splitting the log halfway through.  “Donnie, man, why the hell does your grandpa have so many logs to begin with?”

"Shut up Jake.  You've got to stay positive man.  It's the only way you will make it through this."  Donnie unzipped his coat and wiped his cold sweaty brow with his shirt.

"If you say so," Jake said, splitting the log all the way through.

"Why aren't you
chicas
done yet?" Ortega screamed.  "I hear a whole lot of talking but no logs splitting.  Guess you boys need a little more work since you've got so much time to yak!  Twenty more each!"

"Come on man!  Chris can't do another twenty," Donnie yelled at his instructor.

Big mistake
, Jake thought to himself.

"What did you say Williams?" Ortega yelled.  "What the hell did you just say to me?!"

Donnie seemed to sober up and realize whom he was talking to.  "I'm sorry Drill Sergeant, it’s just, well look at him.  He's about to pass out."

"Is that a fact?  Well tough guy how about you finish his logs for him then!  Your sorry ass should have dropped out last year with the rest of that group of wannabes!  I’m making it my personal mission to break you Williams!  My foot and your ass are going to become very intimate!  I can promise you that!  Morris!”

“Yes Drill Sergeant,” Chris answered weakly.

“Why don't you come have yourself a nice little break. Williams just volunteered to do your job for you!"

"No Drill Sergeant!" Chris yelled back in a squeaky voice, his arms barely able to lift his axe.

"Have it your way toothpick!  Thirty more to both of you then."

Ortega walked away leaving the group alone.  But Jake had no illusions they weren’t still being closely watched.

For the next two hours, they chopped and chopped and chopped.  At a certain point Jake’s arms and hands stopped hurting completely and became downright numb.  The blisters burst and slippery blood coated his hands.  By midmorning, he'd stripped his coat off and had actually rolled up his sleeves.  The temperature had warmed well into the forties by this point.  When he was done, he helped Donnie and Chris finish their stacks.  To his utter shock, even Buck pitched in.

Ortega came back and inspected their piles with several kicks, took a sip from his mug of steaming hot coffee then walked away.  “Those logs seem to be lost.  Stack them over there,” he said, motioning to an empty spot nearly fifty yards away.  “And make it quick.”

The boys moaned quietly as the Drill Sergeant made it out of earshot.  “Man this is ridiculous!” Buck said, filing his arms with logs.  “What the hell does this have to do with hunting vampires?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Donnie said, grabbing his own arm full.  “Ortega is the devil, and we’re all in hell.  His nickname with the last group was El Diablo.”

“I thought it would be warmer in hell,” Jake piped up carrying his first load.

“Just wait until summer,” Donnie said, “then you’ll see what hell is really like.  You’ll wish for the cold!”

It took them another three hours but finally the logs were all moved.  When they were finished, Ortega came back and stared at all four of them.  “What the hell is that?”  he screamed at them.

“A pile of professionally cut logs Drill Sergeant,” Jake answered with just a touch of sarcasm.

“Are you trying to be smart with me, boy?” Ortega said getting mere centimeters from Jake’s face.

“No Drill Sergeant.”

“You think because your old man is some big shot hunter you can give me lip?”

“No Drill Sergeant,”  Jake said carefully.

“That’s good, real good.” He took a single step back.  “Because your padre is nothing but a pussy that let his bitch get eaten by a bunch of grunts.”

Jake clenched his fists so tight his nails dug into his palms drawing blood.

“Jake,”  Donnie said carefully.  “Don’t . . .”

“Shut up Williams!” Ortega said smiling.  “You want to hit me, boy?  Go ahead.  Hit me.  See what happens.”

“I bet you wouldn’t say that if he was here.”  Jake ground his teeth, trying not to knock the man flat.  “He would kick your ass in two seconds if he heard you talk about my mother that way.”

Ortega stepped forward and backhanded Jake, splitting his bottom lip.  “Come on
boy
.  Hit me.  I dare you to.  Hit me.”

Jake turned and spit blood at the man’s feet.  “No Drill Sergeant.”

“Guess being a pussy runs in your family.”

Ortega stepped away leaving Jake to his anger.

“I should have known you pandejos wouldn’t be able to do something as simple as this!  Those logs don’t go there!  They go over there!”  He pointed at the spot they had just come from.  The boys didn’t even bother arguing.  They knew he was just pushing them to see how far they would go before breaking.

“Jake, want some advice?” Donnie asked hefting an armful of logs onto his shoulder.

“Not really,” Jake responded picking up his own armful of splintery logs.

“No matter what that asshole says or does,” he whispered, “keep your mouth shut.”

“I would have beaten his ass if he had said that about my Mom,” Buck chimed in.

“Yeah, and you would be lying face down in the mud with a black eye too.”  Donnie replied.  “Trust me.  All of you.”  He looked from Buck and Jake.  “Just keep your head down, do whatever they say and you will make it through this.  There were nine guys in my last class.  I’m the only one that made it through the training because I knew when and when not to open my mouth.”

Around 2PM they finished for the second time.  Ortega walked over and spat on the pile, then walked away.  "Get some grub."

The same stew they had had for breakfast was still sitting on the table.  It was cold but they were so hungry they didn't care.   Greedily, with their axes at their sides, they filled their bowls.  “This is some tasty grub,” Buck said slurping from his bowl.  “Who makes this stuff?  Sandra?”

“No, they have their own cook,” Donnie answered.  “They call him Chef.  No one knows much about him other than he can cook some damn good food.  He’s set up in a little kitchen not far from the trainers’ cabin on the other side of the main house.”

“Why doesn’t he just cook in the main kitchen,” Jake asked, “at Billy and Sandra’s?”

“Grandma doesn’t let anyone cook in her kitchen but her,” Donnie said.  “She says she has it just the way she wants it and no one is going to mess it up.”

The sun sat high in the sky and water dripped noisily off the roof of their cabin.  The thick snow on the ground had mostly turned into wet slush.  Jake picked up his coat and took it back to their cabin and tossed it onto his bunk.  When he came back out, he stared up into the clear blue sky, basking in the afternoon heat.  “Damn it must be in the sixties already,” he said to no one in particular.  “Got to love that West Texas weather.”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed.  “Tomorrow we’ll probably have a hurricane.”

“Hey guys.  How are we doing?”  A stocky man in his early thirties said coming up to their table. He was dressed in tan desert camo, with a pack hung over his shoulder.

Donnie jumped to his feet; the others were quick to follow.

“Sit down, sit down.”  The man said waving them down with both hands.

“How are you doing LT?”  Donnie said.  “I’m good Williams, good.  I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were back again.  What, you didn’t get enough of this the first go round?”

“No sir.”  Donnie smiled.

“Well now I see we’ve got a new group to punish.”  He laughed an evil Crypt Keeper laugh.  “Afternoon boys.  I’m Lt. Smart.  Navy Seals.  Retired.  So you boys can call me LT.”

“Good to meet you, sir,” Jake said genuinely meaning it.  It was nice to see a military man that wasn’t such a hard case.  He outstretched his hand.

“Let me have a look at that.”  Smart said dropping his pack to the table and pulling out a pair of rubber gloves.  “Well that looks more than a little painful.”

“This?”  Jake said looking down at his bloody hands.  “Nah, not too bad.”

“Sure, sure, tough guy,” Smart said prodding at one of the blisters causing Jake to flinch.  “Let’s get you patched up enough so Castle and Ortega can get back to kicking your asses all over the countryside.”

One by one, he treated their wounded hands, covering them in a thick antibiotic ointment and then wrapped them in gauze.

“So I take it you’re a medic then, LT?” Jake asked.

“Can’t get anything past you eh Sherlock?”  He grinned.  “One of many skills I learned in the Seals.”

He rinsed off Chris’ hands with a bottle of sterile water. “If you guys think this is fun, wait till we get to handling explosives!  Oooooh yeah, I’m going to teach you guys how to blow all kinds of shit up!”

They all laughed glad for a reprieve from the harsh training of their instructors.

“How are the girls doing, LT?” Buck asked.  “How’s my Amber holding up?”

“
Your
Amber huh?”  LT asked finishing up with Chris’s hand.  “They’re doing okay I guess.  Last I saw, Lt. Perry was running them into the ground, but they all seemed to be holding their own.  She’s pretty hot for an Army chick.  Canadian army at that!  Man if I knew they grew them like that in Canada I would have emigrated there years ago.  Don’t tell the Sergeant Major I said that though.  He tends to get a little grumpy.”

“Don’t you outrank him?” Chris asked.

“Technically . . . yes.  But like I said, I am retired
and
Sergeant Major Castle is one mean ass Marine.  I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.

“Well now, you guys are good to go.” He let go of Chris’s hand.  “At least until the Sergeant Major gets here.”

“Are they good to go Lieutenant Smart?”  Sergeant Major Castle said walking up.

“Well speak of the devil,” Smart said under his breath.  “Yes Sergeant Major.  I do believe these boys will live.”

“Good.  Good,” Castle said in a tone that sent shivers down Jake’s spine.  Jake was just thankful that it was Castle that ended their lunch and not Ortega.  It had taken everything he had not to swing at the man when he had called his mother a bitch.

"Hope you boys enjoyed that!” Castle said with far too much enthusiasm.  “You're going to need the energy!  We've got a nice little hike to help that food go down.  Let's move out!"

“Thanks LT,” Jake said.

“Yeah LT,” Donnie echoed.  “We really appreciate it.”

“No problem at all boys.” He patted Chris on the shoulder.  “Good luck.  You’re going to need it.”

With axes in bandage-covered hands, they took off jogging across the rough West Texas terrain, their feet pounding over the half-melted snow.  It was impossible to keep pace with Castle.  The man was a machine.  

After an hour, Chris began falling far behind.  Donnie and Jake stopped to let him catch up.  "Come on Chris.  You can do it." Jake encouraged him.

Buck jogged past them.  "Leave him.  He's nothing but dead weight anyway."

"I can't Jake.”  Chris dropped to his knees.  “Buck’s right.  I’m not cut out for this!”

"Don't say that man, you just have to try.  You can't let them beat you," Jake said,

"Yeah forget about Buck.  He's full of shit anyway."  Donnie lifted him to his feet.  “
My Daddy let me kill a vampire!”
he said, in a bad imitation of Buck’s voice.  “
I’ve been hunting vampires since I was six!”
 

Chris laughed but dropped his axe to the ground.  "Why do we have to carry these stupid things anyway?"

Jake pulled a canteen from his belt and handed it to him.  "Here take a few sips.  It will help."  He chugged and chugged.  Jake had to pull it away from him. “Not too much, not too much."