Walking Ghost Phase (28 page)

In the morni
ng, Emily entered the classroom to find Sarah already there and, oddly, sitting in the middle row. At the back of the room, two guys had claimed Emily and Matt's usual places. “They beat me here,” Sarah said. “I didn't feel like asking them to move. I think they're going through Matt's notes.”

Emily sat beside her.
“I don't care.”

“
Bad night?”

“
You could say so.”

“
Can't be worse than mine.” Sarah turned her head. A star-shaped bruise covered the back of her scalp. “Three seconds into the Sim, my own teammate shot me dead. Next time I have a great idea, I'm keeping it to myself.”

Matt walked
inside the classroom, glanced once at the two seat-stealing guys and then sat beside Emily.

“
Must be nice to not have any new bruises,” Sarah said.

“
Hello to you, too,” he said, and turned to Emily. “Morning.”

“
Whatever,” Emily said.

“
Somebody's in a mood,” Sarah said, and studied Emily's face. “I don't see any new bruises on you either. Did you get shot in the ass?” She leaned across the table, toward Matt. “Did you get shot in the ass? It'd make my day if you did.”

“
Good morning, privates,” Stallings said as he wobbled toward the podium.

“
Good morning, sir,” everyone except Emily replied. She mumbled it.

“
I have some big news. By now, everyone should understand how the ACES module operates, because command has decided to make a few changes to the scenarios. Beginning tomorrow, your ACES training will place you in eight-member squads. Objectives will become more challenging, so don't expect the same level of success, if you've garnered any at all.”

Stallings glared at Sarah.
“Also, we have been made aware of a new discipline issue that is creating chaos during your training. Be warned, if you kill your squad members intentionally, you can spend a night in the stockade and lose your weapon for a full week. After much deliberation, we decided not to punish the individual who suggested the idea.”

He punched up the results.
“And I hope this group has better success in eight-member squads than the current teams of four. Almost eleven minutes. That's your average time of survival last night. But two of you completed the objective. Stand up, Private Holcomb and Private Heath.”

They did.

“You both left your squad to die. Although I will congratulate you on your victory, I find it hollow, meaningless, and as you'll soon discover, you need your team in the larger squad combat. Do you understand?”

“
Yes, sir,” they said.

“
Good. Enjoy your last night in four-member squads.”

“
You, too?” Sarah whispered.

Emily shrugged.

Once Stallings finished the results, he paced along the front row. “During your training sessions, you have engaged in combat as the attacker. With eight members in your squad, the objective becomes two-fold. Completion of your mission requires attack and defense. Enemy numbers are also double the normal contingent.”

Matt scribbled the basic math in his notebook—eight versus forty—but Sarah didn
't even lift her pen. She stared at the blank projector screen, her eyelids fluttering. A few minutes later, Emily was certain she heard a muffled snore. A drop of saliva glistened in the left crease of Sarah's mouth.

Once Stallings moved forward into the lecture, Emily
's eyes also grew heavy. In the previous class sessions, she hung on Stallings' every word. Her single-spaced notes filled ninety-three pages of the red binder, and she expected the same from the rest of her classmates, doubting the soldiers would forego a trove of information that might help them avoid horrible deaths and humiliating times. Hearing it once seemed like enough, but Stallings didn't agree. His lecture consisted of a summary of everything Emily already knew.

Matt kept his hands flat against the desk, on both sides of his notebook, with the pen sitting in the center. He glanced at Emily and then back to Stallings as if he wanted to avoid her stare.

You're hiding something,
she thought.
How do I know things about you? You're going to tell me. I will find—

A grainy image, like an old home movie, flashed in her mind. She had not willed it, had not needed to escape her present reality, and she really wasn
't trying to remember. The memory just came to her.

She stood on a sidewalk, familiar yet different. Down the street, the
For Sale
signs were gone. The sky appeared in a wondrous blue, not the usual bleak gray. She turned to head home, as she had done many times before, but almost didn't recognize the house. The vinyl siding glowed white. The scent of freshly mowed grass lingered in the summer breeze, and a swing on the porch rocked back and forth.

Emily moved closer to the chain link fence, trying to get a better look at the house, but the top fence bar towered over her. She glanced at her twig arms and down her body at a petite set of legs, a frizzy pair of socks and two buckled shoes. A short pop
of a horn sounded, and Emily jumped and spun around. As a car pulled away from the curb, the woman driver waved. Emily didn't recognize her face, but the woman's parting words echoed in her mind.
He had a rough time in surgery. Be nice to him.

“
Did you want to play?” a squeaky but hoarse voice asked. Emily turned back to the fence. A boy of maybe six sat on the lawn and pushed a yellow, toy dump truck through the grass. “I don't have any dolls.”

Emily lifted the gate latch, approached the boy and plopped down in front of him. He blew air though his lips, mimicking the sound of a truck, as he guided the toy around her shoes.
“I don't mind,” she said. “I'll play with you.” She plucked a few blades of grass and dropped them into the dump truck.

For a moment the little boy smiled at her. Then his gaze drifted above her head, his face now blank. A shadow engulfed Emily
's miniscule form. “I'm not here to play,” a voice behind her said. She recognized it. “I'm here for…” The last of his words faded in a sound of waves, of static. The shadow receded.

“
Here for what? Tell me.”

“
Private Heath?” A firm hand jabbed Emily's shoulder, and she was back in the classroom. Around her, the seats were empty. “Private, did you need to speak with me?”

She looked up at Stallings, who
loomed in front of her. “What?”

“
You told Private Holcomb and Private Winston that you would meet them later. Did you need to speak with me about a personal issue?”

“
I said what?” She blinked, clearing the haze from her eyes. “I'm sorry, sir.” She stood and headed to the door. “I hope I didn't waste your time.”

As Emily walked the hall, she scraped her shoulder against the wall and stared at the carpet. The face of the little boy with blue eyes and short brown hair appeared in her mind.
“Surgery,” Emily said to herself. “A scar on his shoulder? But he had on a shirt. No, he had his tonsils taken out. The shoulder scar came later. Wait—why do I know this?”

“
Told you this place would make you crazy,” someone said. Two male soldiers passed her, and the guy on the right twirled his finger around his ear. The other soldier laughed.

“
I'm not crazy,” Emily said under her breath. She ran by the soldiers and into the mess hall, where she spotted her classmates in the back. She made a beeline down the center aisle and slid to a stop beside Matt.

“
Nice of you to join us,” Sarah said.

Emily ignored her. She grabbed a wad of Matt
's shirt collar and jerked it to the side. He tried to pull away, but before he could, she saw it—a line of pale skin. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“
You—you lived in that house—the one near the end of Mulberry Street.”

“
Are you okay?”

“
Answer me.”

He stared at her, confusion behind his eyes.
“Yeah, I lived there, but once my parents—” He rubbed his temples. “This is giving me a headache.” His cheek twitched.

“
Stop lying to me.” Her voice carried over the mess hall, which suddenly fell silent. Near the back wall, a female MP palmed a baton.

“
You think I'm lying?”

She slid on the bench beside him.
“I know you are.”

Matt now gazed at his plate as he poked the half-eaten filet of some breaded meat.

“Why won't you look at me?”

“
You run in here, demand that I remember some trivial detail of my past and then call me a liar. But I'm supposed to be happy to see you?”

“
So now my life is trivial? Is that how it is? I'm only worthy as long as I play your little games?”

“
That's not fair.”

“
But keeping secrets is?”

Matt quickly stood and grabbed his tray.
“Did you ever consider I might have a reason?” He leaned down, his face a few inches from hers. “Because I do.” His cheek didn't twitch. Before Emily could think of an answer, Matt took his unfinished tray and marched toward the dishwasher.

“
You told me we had to eat everything on our plate,” a familiar voice said.

Emily faced forward, and her mouth gaped. Across from her and sitting beside Sarah was a young man, his head shaven to the scalp, skin untouched by the bruises. The seething burn in Emily
's face because of Matt's refusal to answer her questions now joined utter confusion at the sight of the new addition to her table. “John Simmons?”
Raven's fiancé?
“What the hell are you doing here?”

He shrugged.
“It took a lot of begging. I must have called fifty generals and colonels. Raven's father also helped cut some red tape. But I finally got the order to report last night. Arrived early this morning. Already been to my first orientation.”

“
You
volunteered
for this?”

He appeared to be in deep thought, which didn
't match the non-detail of his answer. “Yeah.”

“
Crazy, huh?” Sarah said. Then she pointed at the front of the mess hall. Emily and John turned, watching Matt approach the dishwashing station, where a husky MP stood watch. “This is why you should always finish your lunch.”

“
Is the MP going to make him eat it?” John asked.

“
He'll probably nod, give Matt a pat on the back and send him on his way,” Emily said, her tone sarcastic.

“
Yeah, right,” Sarah said.

The MP did
exactly what Emily predicted.

“
What the—?”

As Matt walked toward the door, he glanced at the ceiling and threw out his arms.

John lifted his untouched plate of food. “If he can get away with it, I'm going to take my chances.”

Sarah grabbed his arm.
“I wouldn't. Our luck, they'd knock a few teeth out and make us eat three trays.”

“
I'm not sure any amount of pain is worse than the smell of this crap,” John said.

“
You might rethink that position after your first night in the Sim,” Emily said.

John eased back on the bench.
“If it's anything like orientation, I may die of boredom first.” He glanced around and cringed. “But you could be right. These soldiers look rough. Do the doctors give out pain medicine?”

Sarah held her palm inches from Emily
's face. “Not a word.”

Emily smiled.
“I better grab a tray before John gets a first-hand demonstration of how wood impacting bone can entice hunger.” After she stood, she glanced over her shoulder. “John, just in case you all are gone before I get back, don't let Sarah take you to the pharmacy.”