4. The Chase

When I was thirteen the mine Papa had been working had a major collapse that buried three men in a premature grave. It took weeks to extricate their bodies from an earth unwilling to give up her victims. We moved to a new city for a few years while he took up work in waste removal and waited for another job repairing equipment in the mines. By then, I'd recovered from my procedure and had just started to hit puberty. Every night I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered if my hips were too wide or my chest too flat. I looked into the eyes of all the boys at school when they saw me, as if their stare was a mirror that could show me how I really looked to everyone.

Thirteen must be the most confusing time of anyone's life. I remember feeling like a newborn baby opening her eyes to the world for the first time with lights that were too bright and noises that were too loud. Everything new and overwhelming. It was the most wonderful and most devastating time of my life, depending upon the day you might ask me. Everything changed so quickly back then.

I'd started making friends. Catching the eye of a few cute boys. I remember the first time I could feel a boy's attraction to me. Sitting next to each other in class, he turned my way to say something funny. For the life of me, I can't remember a word of what he said. But I do remember how those deep brown eyes stared into mine and the little smile crawled on his face. He lingered and watched me laugh before turning back around.

Every day he found some way to make me laugh.

Then came physicals at school when the Nurse checked my mouth and saw my mark. The nurse's office had been divided into three separate areas by thick sheets. It was only polite to try to tune out the noises from the station by yours, but we could totally hear every word of the physical happening in the stall next to our own.

I'm not sure who occupied the stall next to mine and heard the nurse talking to me. Only thing I know with absolutely certainty is that she told every damn person in that school. I came in the next day to what felt like a civil war and I was the line drawn in the sand. Half the school started to pretend like I didn't exist. Maybe they only wanted to stay out the drama that had sprung up around me, or maybe they didn't approve of who I truly was. At the time, it felt like a personal slap in the face from every one of them.

While half the school ignored me, the other half didn't leave me alone for a moment. I had a small army rise up around me, never missing a single chance to advocate for me or to counterattack when insults were hurled my way. Life wasn't so quiet anymore. Now that everyone knew, I had a choice about whether I coasted along or made a name for myself with my new group. I started to speak up for the other nameless trans students who certainly must attend the school. I just wish it could have been my choice to fight in that war and to publicly label myself.

After word spread, I spent the rest of the year staring at the back of the brown eyed boy's head. He never said anything cruel. He'd smile when we walked by each other in the hallway. But gone were the quips and special glances.

Half the school ignored me. The other half fought a war over me. I quickly learned to tune out the heckling that filled the few years I went to that school.

Sometimes I wish I had been born the right gender so I didn't have this code labeling the inside of my cheek as less than other women. Other times, times like now, it is with burning and painful joy that I have already learned how to fight and win battles.

Ever since I cried in front of all of the recruits and was called into the commander's office, most of my fellow soldiers-in-training ignored me completely. In my life, I've learned that most people would prefer to sit on the sidelines. However, a few will always jump at the chance to thumb their nose at you in your worst times and kick you while you're down.

We're three weeks into training camp now. Conditioning is over and we've been thrown into the thick of it. The Commander has given us a few hours to rest before the day beings, our first break in over a week. A movie is being projected on the white wall in the cafeteria, but I can't focus on it. All I can think of is what I'm going to do in my next fight, and how I can squeeze in some extra time to practice my defense.

Something flies by my head and falls onto my lap. I look down to see a box of tissues has landed on me. Snickering fills the air.

Raising my chin up high, I set the box on the empty seat beside me and never give them the satisfaction of looking back.

I've been here before, being mocked and ridiculed. I won't let it distract me from what I've come to do.

Once the movie is over, we have another hour to kill. While other recruits talk and rest, I go for a jog outside. It's the best way to keep my mind off what everyone is thinking of me and to try get ahead of the competition.

A cloudless day greets me. Birds are chirping and a light breeze wafts the scent of pine trees over the track near the woods. Fifteen minutes into my jog, a strong wind blows across the field like air conditioning made just for me.

Another recruit has been running on the track ahead of me. I can't see who it is, but they're fast. Try as I might, I can't catch up. It feels like I'm always behind.

The track wraps around a field and hugs the jagged tree line of the woods. I haven't spent much time north of this part of the camp and peer beyond the towering trunks to see whether there's any buildings or equipment. Nothing but squirrels scurrying about and birds coasting through the air. I breathe in the earthy scent and smile for the first time in days.

An engine revs behind me. Slowing my jog, I turn to look behind me. There's no road for vehicles to drive--

My heart leaps out of my chest. A jeep cuts through the heart of the track, driving straight for me.

I dash into the woods, sprinting as fast as I can, spindly branches whipping across my arms and chest. I hear several sets of boots stomping toward me. Brush crunches underfoot. A scream is building in my chest, but I hold it inside of me, not wanting to give up my location if they don't see me already.

Looking down, I can see I'm leaving a clear trail. I haven't learned how to cover one yet. If these people know these woods then they'll be able to trap me or cut me off. I have no idea where I'm going.

A massive oak tree towers a few feet away. I hide behind it and peek out with my breath coming in jagged waves.

Nothing but woods. The birds no longer chirp. No squirrels in sight. I'm completely alone.

I need to make my way back to the dorms where I'm certain to run into other recruits rather than continue to run away from everyone. It isn't quite noon. The sun will still be in the east and the camp is north from here.

I start to head north toward the camp, walking backward so I can push the dead leaves on the ground over my footsteps. After a few minutes without seeing anyone, hope begins to fill me that I might make it back. I have no idea why anyone would come after me, but there's no denying that I was being chased. Maybe they gave up.

I start to pick up speed, able to cover my tracks more quickly, and I draw close enough to camp to make out the square buildings just beyond the trees. Maybe I should run now. Or scream. Beg someone to help.

But what if they knew I would return to camp and there's a trap waiting for me just ahead? Dread fills my stomach like weights. I planned on running to my salvation. What if I had only been making the chase easier?

I duck down and decide to play it safe. Glancing around, seeing no one, I start to creep toward the buildings.

I hear my heart pounding in my ears. Another few minutes and I can make out the bricks on the side of the building. Still no sign of any pursuers. It takes all the self-control I have, but I maintain my slow pace, vigilantly watching.

A break in the trees five feet ahead. I nearly scream with joy. I'm going to make it. Still crouched, I exit the woods and catch sight of a 4th year a few yards away, walking back toward the building.

"Hey!" I yell.

He looks. Even from here I can't miss those green eyes. His brows twist when he sees me crouching down near the woods. I stand up and start to run for him when I hear leaves rustle.

"Don't move." A voice whispers.

Movement to my right. Still in the woods, a man steps into my periphery. I can't make out any details of him except for my one that turns my blood cold.

He's aiming a gun at me.

"Come with me. Don't say anything to anyone."

I have no idea if he'll really shoot. I'm so close to freedom.

"What?" Green eyes asks.

"I..." Swallowing hard, I force my voice to come out strong. "I'm sorry for a few weeks back."

"Now," the man whispered.

"Bye," I say to Green Eyes, not waiting for a response. I walk closer to my captor, trembling as I look at his gun. My behavior was strange enough that Green Eyes might come looking, even if it's just to chastise me. When I don't show up later, he'll be able to tell everyone my location.

Maybe I made the wrong decision. It's not too late to scream.

Black cloth comes over my face from behind. A strong hand clamps over my mouth. I struggle against hands that grab at my wrists and ankles. It doesn't matter that there's a gun on me. I've lost control.

The more I thrash, the tighter the hands become, until I feel something clasp over my wrists and ankles. Metal bites into my skin.

Someone picks me up, throws me over their shoulder. I try to kick, but he's holding my legs down. I start screaming and something whacks into the back of my legs so hard that I feel like they'll snap in two.

"Shut up!"

Time crawls. I'm shaking from head to toe. I can't tell how many men there are. They keep quiet. The only one to speak is the man whose voice I recognize.

I'm loaded into a vehicle, perhaps the jeep that had driven for me. I'm sitting up against a leather seat with two bodies on either side of me. We drive for at least an hour and then we stop moving. Rough hands drag me from the vehicle and haul me through a doorway. Whoever has me drops me unceremoniously on the ground. I moan, landing on my side.

The black cloth is ripped from my face. Light blinds my eyes. I squint and try to gather my bearings. Another recruit sits directly in front of me, so close that I feel her breath hit my cheek when she sobs. Blood runs out of both sides of her nose, down her lips, and onto her white undershirt. To my right, a boy stares at me with wide eyes, unhurt. No one speaks.

The man who'd pointed the gun at me stands a few feet away with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. He's older, maybe in his fifties, with grey hair and a crooked nose. Two younger men stand on either side of our small group. Probably the ones who rode with me in the jeep.

"Well, this looks as good a group as any." The older gentleman squats down at our level where we all sit and breathes in deeply through his nose. I notice it then, the stench. "Which one of you pissed?"

The girl sobs again and I squeeze my hands tight behind my back, quietly begging her to be quiet.

"Ya'll are gonna have to give me some useful information if you plan to filthy up this place. We don't have time to clean up your mess." He grabs the girl's hair and rips her head back. "You'll be the one to clean up, you hear me?"

She nods, whimpering.

His eyes land on me next. I clench my teeth tightly, studying him for any apparent weakness or handicap. There's absolutely nothing in the room I could use as a weapon, not even a chair.

"You might be wondering why you're here."

"There's two possibilities," I say.

Chuckling, the man leans an arm against his knee. "That so, little Missy?"

"Either this is part of our training or you're thinking you can take advantage of some baby recruits." I swallow hard. "It doesn't matter which is true. Not while I'm here. Because I won't give you anything either way."

He glances down my face, pressing his lips tightly together for a moment before he speaks. "Well... I suppose we'll just have to see about that."

He nods and I steel myself just before the man closest to me grabs my arms to jerk me to my feet. Holding me up, he turns me toward the other man.

"Don't," the boy on the ground says. I haven't seen him before, but he must be a first year. He looks about the same age as me. "Please. Let's see if we can work something out."

I stare directly into the eyes of the man facing me. Pale brown with specks of yellow. He's broad shouldered and a full head taller me. The one holding me is even larger. There's no hope for me to try to fight my way out, especially with my arms and legs bound up.

He hooks me in my gut. Pain stronger than I've ever felt spiders through middle. My stomach lurches. He steps back just as I vomit.

The hands holding my biceps feel like a steel vice. They hold me up easily when my legs go limp after I finish heaving.

I tell myself this is training. It must be. But I had never heard stories of this happening so early in the program. Fear courses through me. If this isn't our program then there's no limit to what they might do. I glance to the bloodied face of the girl.

Before I look back to the man who'd hit me, light glints of something. The point of a blade comes to rest just below my chin. I lift my head slowly as he applies pressure.

The older man walks around in front of me, tilting his head as the knife nicks my skin.

"Tell me everything you know about your commander."

My eyes mist. No one's here to mock me this time. The two recruits held captive with me are crying as well. A drop of red splashes onto my shoes from my chin. The blade lowers enough to allow me to talk.

I imagine all the pain I've ever experienced from the silent wounds inflicted upon my soul. I can do this. I must do this.

My voice trembles but it doesn't break. "No."