my face heat up.
“I have orders,” the man said.
“That’s not fair,” another soldier said. “Ducklings should eat last because at least we Death Diggers faced the Marked, whereas they’ve never even seen one.”
The man laughed. “The Ducklings eat first, and it’s back to training for you, Death Diggers.”
Protesting erupted. People shouted, and a sergeant I hadn’t seen before tried to calm them down. This lasted for what felt like forever while I almost stole the ladle from the man’s hand and whacked him over the head with it.
The Death Diggers filed away and settled near the wall at the right side of the line. The man with his assistants scooped from the large pots before them and into the bowls presented to them. No spoons. The soldiers drank the broth. Or maybe it was stew? The smell of it reached my nose, and by the time my turn came, my belly growled in violent protest of hunger. I held out my bowl.
The man looked up and smiled. “You got that arm healed, I see.”
“Yes, sir.”
He scooped from the bottom and deposited broth into my bowl. I stared at the brown sludge, thinking this wouldn’t hold me for the day, yet not caring about the taste or smell or anything. Right then and there, I brought the bowl to my mouth and chugged great big gulps of warm liquid. It slid down my throat and filled my belly. I extended my empty bowl, begging for more. The man shook his head. “One is enough.”
“This won’t get any of us through the day.”
“It will have to do, soldier. When you deploy and find yourself in the middle of nowhere surrounded by frozen ground, you’ll know hunger.” With that, he turned and left.
I’d known hunger. I survived the damned apocalypse none of them even remembered. And we weren’t starving. This wasn’t a rationed meal. It was some sort of discipline task most people passed, and I failed.
A woman with kind blue eyes next to him looked from me down to the ladle in her hand. She lifted it and poured more into my bowl. Hesitantly, I drank it.
“Are you gonna get in trouble?” I asked.
“Definitely,” she said. “But it’s better to feed the commander’s toy than to keep her starving.”
The liquid turned sour in my belly, and I moved to stand beside the wall. Looking around, I saw that people had heard what she’d said, and when the guy from the other squad pointed at me and said I was the lost girl from yesterday, my face burned. Clearly, I’d make no friends around here.
Fuck them, rang in my head.
I looked around, seeing nobody near me.
Chuckling sounded. A warm caress brushed against my skin, almost sensual. I was hearing things and feeling things. Must be the stress. I had to woman up and get on with this world. Michael had that right.
Most people stood in groups and talked, laughed, their breaths coming out in poofs of fog. All too soon, the bell rang again, and I fell in line, this time assuming the place at the end. My belly felt heavy. Maybe I shouldn’t have had the extra bowl.
We proceeded into the training yard, where the sergeant left us to an angel who assigned us partners. Either a setup or by coincidence, I found myself face-to-face, only a mat apart, with the guy who called me a whore yesterday. From the height of at least six-one, he rolled his eyes.
“Why don’t you just go upstairs and wait for the commander? Warm up the bed.”
I ignored him and waited for instructions. None came. The guy bent at the knees, and, left foot back, right foot forward, he lifted his fists and positioned them at his chest level. Okay, so we’d spar with bare hands. This would suck. Resigned to my fate, I bared my teeth. A whistle sounded, and I charged. Having no strategy or experience, I practically ran into his fist. The world went dark, and I toppled onto the ground. The last thing I heard was my opponent’s laughter.
Groaning, I shook my head and pushed up on my elbows, blinking a few times, trying to clear my sight before I realized my eyes had swollen and my blurry vision afforded me no view. I got up and stood there, raised my hand, and touched my face. The cold made my hand shake and likely also kept the swelling down. So that was good, though I felt like I had a melon attached