Rites of Passage (15 page)

“You are only as strong as your weakest link, Alpha. You will fail if this is how weak you are. Higher, McKenna!”

Groaning, I demand more from my tired muscles. Finally, I hit his hands with my knees. I can't keep the smile off my face. But I don't even get a second's grace.

“Push-up positions again. Go!”

We are not as whole as we were at the beginning. Some move slow, some slip when they are down, though they do not receive the same treatment that I do. They are left to fend for themselves.

“Down.”

Nix, beside me, instantly goes to the floor. I'm close to collapse myself when Matthews crouches in front of me, his voice so quiet I have to strain to hear it above the scream of death metal on the stereo.

“Did you find your KB yet, McKenna?”

He wants to make me suffer.

“Corporal Matthews, no, Corporal Matthews.” I don't even have the strength to yell. I've still got Kelly's but he's not worried about the particulars.

“Good. You know what kind of shit I hold over you?”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews.”

“So, here's what's going to happen. The next time you need it, you're not going to have it. And the company will enjoy yet another smoke show on account of you. Not nearly so positive as this team building exercise you're enjoying right now.”

I keep my eyes straight ahead, focusing on a cinder block in front of me, counting the pock marks in the wall to keep from looking at him. He's going to turn them all against me, one by one, until even my recruit brothers will want me out. I'm shaking violently, my arms on the verge of giving out.

“I'm glad we had this chance to talk, McKenna. I look forward to many more talks like this before you quit the Corps and go running back home to Daddy. Then again, you could leave now and save us a world of trouble and you a world of hurt. Why don't you give up, McKenna? Just think, you could wake up tomorrow in your nice warm bed, safe and sound at home. All this could be a bad dream.”

“Jumping jacks! Go,” Julius yells.

My recruit brothers jump up and begin counting, but Matthews has a hand on my shoulder, pushing me down farther, the weight of him threatening to make my arms collapse. Why isn't anyone doing anything? Why isn't Drill stopping this?

“You could get out now, go home. No one expects you to make it. No one
wants
you to make it. You don't belong here, McKenna. Females don't belong here. Sooner or later you're going to figure it out. Let's just hope it's sooner, before something bad happens. God forbid you get
injured
during a training incident or that the Society decides to do something to encourage your departure.”

I grit my teeth, summoning the last bit of strength I have as his fingers dig into my shoulders. It'll do no good to respond; it would probably make things worse.

“That's enough, Matthews.” Drill's voice breaks through my thoughts. I hold my breath, waiting to see if he has enough control over Matthews to make him obey.

Matthews lets out a growl at being called off by Drill. “Leave, McKenna. Now.” He pushes down on me as he stands up, and I sink to the floor, collapsing under the weight of being one of the first females at the DMA.

Breathing hard, I struggle, trying to get my hands under me. Kelly reaches out a hand and I grab it, standing up and breathing out a sigh of relief.

As soon as I'm steady, Matthews is there again, his hot breath sluggish on my neck as he whispers, “Remember, McKenna. The DMA is a dangerous place for females. Watch out.”

Drill speaks next, so close by that Matthews winces and takes a quick step back. “Showers, everyone. Study hall in five minutes! Matthews,” he says, more quietly as the rest of my recruit buddies turn and run. Matthews is still too close for me to move without running into him. “At my door. Now.”

“Yes, Drill Sergeant,” Matthews spits out. He glares at me for a minute before taking a step back, giving me just enough room to slide by. Drill waits until I'm at my door before he moves away from me, his eyes on Matthews the whole time.

I slip into my room and close the door behind me, collapsing on the bed in a heap of sweat and exhaustion. The only thing I want to do right now is crawl into a hole. Drill had to call Matthews off because he thought I couldn't take it. He thinks I'm weak.

But that's not the worst of it.

God forbid you get injured during a training incident or that the Society decides to do something . . .

Matthews threatened me outright. Not just that he was going to make my life miserable, but that there's some kind of Society that might go so far as to hurt me. I've never heard of them, but that doesn't mean they're not real.

And if they're something Matthews knows about, it's not likely that they're anything good.

 

I slam my Military History textbook shut during Wednesday night's study hall. There's no point in staring at the pages when the dates swirl together, making rivers and contrails on the page.

“Not going well?”

Kelly sits across from me in the library, struggling over his algebra textbook. His foot has been touching mine for seven minutes and right now I don't have the strength to even try putting up a fight. It's been two days since the smoke show but I'm still so sore it hurts to move at all. “I'm just confused,” I say.

“By dates and battles? That doesn't seem like you.”

I toss my pencil down, giving up the study hall as a loss. “Okay, how about exhausted? That seems like my excuse for everything lately.”

He's looking at his homework, though, not really listening. “Your roommate back from the infirmary yet?”

“Who knows. She might as well move in there. It's been two weeks this time. Sounds like a nice break.”

“You don't mean that,” he says, raising his head to look at me. “You're not one to slide through.”

“Then maybe I should join a sport; Cross hasn't been to company training since the beginning of September. She's got an excuse every night.” I'm trying not to let the fact that Cross missed Monday night's smoke show bother me, but it's hard to ignore that I seem to be the only female in the company right now.

“Okay.” He puts his pencil down and steeples his fingers in front of his face, leaning on his elbows. “Therapy time. Why are you here? I mean, I know your brother is cadet colonel and your dad went here. But, what made you come?”

I stare at him for a long second.
Liam.
Jax called him Liam. It suits him. And somehow when I think of him as just plain Liam, it's like he's just a regular guy, someone I can talk to.

“Honestly?”

He looks up from his book, scooting his chair closer. Now it's not just his foot touching mine, but his leg. His lips twitch when he sees me swallow hard. “Of course.”

I pull my foot away from his—the closest thing to rejection that I can dish out right now. “It was a dare.”

He drops his hands and leans in so he's partway over the table, his voice quiet and conspiratorial. “You're kidding, right?”

I can't keep the grin off my face. “No. I'm not. My oldest brother, Amos, gave me the dare two years ago when girls at the DMA was just an idea.” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and study the table. “I kind of have a problem with saying no to dares.”

He smiles so big I see a second dimple that I've never seen before and I feel my resolve to stay away from him wavering. The
shhh
from the librarian when he laughs makes me start, too. I haven't laughed like this for weeks. It feels good.

“That's a pretty major dare, Mac.”

I shrug it off. “We've done worse,” I say, though I'm not sure that's true now that I'm here.

Kelly looks like he wants to say something, and then squints instead.

“What? Go ahead. Say what you want to say.”

“Well, the point of going to a military high school, other than being put here by a judge, is to stand out, you know? To thrive, rise through the ranks, and get into a military university. I mean, you're good, but I just can't imagine them letting you be a drill sergeant, much less the cadet colonel. You're a
girl
.”

I look around, acting shocked and checking to see if anyone overheard. “A girl? Are you serious? Who told you? How did you find out?”

He grins and blushes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant . . .”

“I know. I'm not the most popular person around here. I figure if I toe the line and keep my name clean, though, I can finish strong, even if I don't get the chance to prove I have leadership potential.”

“So your oldest brother, the one who gave you the dare—where is he now?”

Gritting my teeth, I pick up my pencil and press it hard into the paper, tracing over words I can't even read through the tears that are suddenly there.

“Mac?” He leans across the table, his fingers brushing mine. He doesn't hold my hand, but he keeps it where it is, lined up with mine, pinkie to pinkie. I think about pulling away.

Blinking quickly to keep the tears back, I shake my head. I promised Dad and Jonathan. I
swore
I'd keep it a secret. But I can't. I need someone to talk to about it—that's something neither of them will ever be able to understand. Maybe I have more in common with Mom than I thought. “He killed himself on R & R last Christmas.”

“Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't mean—”

“We've kept it real quiet. Dad doesn't want anyone to know, you know? A McKenna weakness like that wouldn't be too great to broadcast.” I spit the words out, still pissed that Dad could think Amos was weak at all.

He pauses, like he has more questions about Amos. I look away when he meets my eyes, his face full of pity. It makes me want to get up and leave, and I think he knows it. “So . . . what's it like being in classes with cadets instead of recruits?” He's eyeing my pages of notes. “Awkward conversation change, I know. But I don't have any idea how to respond to that.”

“It's okay. No one knows how to respond to it. I'll take topic changes any day.” When my hand shakes, he moves his just a bit, so his pinkie and mine are crossed. I swallow and pull my hand away, putting both of them in my lap to keep from chewing my nails. It takes me a minute to even remember what he asked and I have to clear my throat to make my voice work. “Classes. They're weird. I don't say a word in Military History—I think Matthews would eat me alive. In all the other classes I keep quiet as much as I can and let the upperclassmen do all the talking.”

“And they let you in as a Worm? Knowing you were a sophomore?” To his credit, it doesn't look like the lack of hand-holding bothers him too much.

“As long as I complete recruit training and Worm rites of passage, they don't care.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here,” he says, giving me that dimpled smile that might make me melt if we were anywhere but here. Then he clears his throat and picks up a pencil. “Now, about this math homework. Damn multistep equations. I hate them. Ever wonder why there are letters in math? It doesn't seem right, does it?”

“Need help?” I'm not an ace at math, but algebra I can handle.

“Nah, I've got to figure this out on my own.”

“Suit yourself. I've got to get another book. But when I get back, it's my turn to ask you a question.”

His eyes get really big and he feigns nervousness. “I don't know if I'll survive until you get back. If it looks like the numbers have killed me, you may have to use mouth-to-mouth to resuscitate.”

Laughing again, I push the chair away from the table and stand up. “You wish.” I grab the book off the table and head back to the stacks. I know what I want to ask him—we never have gotten a chance to talk about Jax. I'm dying to know how they connect and why she'd reach out to try and help me.

I run my fingers over the spines of the books, looking for another one that might help me make sense of the Military History homework. There are two that look promising and I grab them, about to turn the corner. The sound of voices stops me in my tracks. They're hushed but the closer they get, the clearer they are.

“What I'm doing isn't working. Her roommate basically lives at the infirmary now. I nearly killed her the other night. Shit, I've seen
guys
crumble with a smoke show
half
as bad.” It's Matthews. I'd recognize his voice anywhere. I slip away from the voices and around the end of the bookshelf so they won't see me when they walk by.

“The Society meets next week. We can't change our course of action until then. The other female?” This voice could belong to any one of the faceless cadets I don't know.

“We're going to get to her another way,” Matthews says to the invisible voice and follows it up with a laugh. I stay where I am until their voices fade away, then take a step backward, sliding as quietly as I can down the aisle and into the main part of the library. If they see me here, there's no telling what they'll do. Breathing hard back at the table, I pack my stuff as quickly as I can.

Kelly looks up from his textbook. “What are you doing? Everything okay?”

I glance around, hoping Matthews isn't still in the vicinity, and shake my head at Kelly. “I need to head back to the barracks.” That's twice I've heard about the Society this week. Could this have something to do with the bets to get us out of here?

He stands up and starts packing his stuff. “Did you get the book you need?”

It takes me a minute to figure out what he's talking about. “Nah, I'll find something online.”

He shrugs. “Time for a study break anyway. I'll head back with you. I'm about as sick of algebra as I can get and you know the cadre. They don't want you girls walking around alone.”