CHAPTER 3 — THE FRACTURE
533 Words
Sleep didn’t come.
It hovered.
Thin.
Untrustworthy.
Every time Lena drifted, pain dragged her back.
Muscles twitched.
Joints burned.
Her brain replayed the day in sharp fragments—Maya’s shaking legs, dirt in her mouth, the word move pressed into her skull like a brand.
When the lights snapped on, it felt cruel.
“Up.”
Groans.
Someone swore.
Lena rolled onto her side and immediately regretted it.
Her body felt heavier than gravity allowed.
She lay there for half a second.
Not long.
Long enough for doubt to stretch its fingers.
Then she sat up.
Because lying down was how quitting started.
They were issued full packs before breakfast.
Thirty kilos.
Minimum.
Extra weight slapped onto exhausted frames.
Straps dug into shoulders.
Metal buckles clinked like mockery.
Maya adjusted Lena’s shoulder strap without being asked.
“Yours is twisted.”
“Thanks.”
Small kindness.
Huge impact.
Captain Wolfe surveyed them.
No preamble.
“Ten-kilometer forced march.”
A few recruits visibly blanched.
“One-hour time limit.”
Someone whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Captain Wolfe’s gaze snapped toward the sound.
“It is improbable.”
Silence returned.
“Move out.”
The march began at a brutal pace.
Not a jog.
Not quite a run.
A sustained, grinding speed designed to eat people alive.
The road wound into scrubland.
Dust kicked up.
Sun climbed.
Sweat soaked everything.
Within fifteen minutes, people started falling behind.
Sergeants dragged stragglers back into formation.
“Close ranks!”
Lena focused on Maya’s boots.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Her pack rubbed raw skin beneath her collarbones.
Each step felt like someone tightening bolts inside her knees.
Her breathing turned shallow.
She couldn’t get enough air.
Panic fluttered at the edges.
She forced it down.
Not today.
A tall recruit ahead of them began limping.
Hard.
His gait went uneven.
Then he stumbled.
He caught himself.
Took three more steps.
Collapsed.
The formation flowed around him.
Medics ran in.
No one stopped.
Lena didn’t look back.
She hated herself a little for that.
At kilometer six, Maya started slowing.
Not dramatically.
Just… fractions.
Lena noticed anyway.
Maya’s shoulders sagged.
Her head dipped.
“You okay?” Lena whispered.
“Fine.”
It was a lie.
Lena slid her hand under Maya’s elbow and lifted.
Subtle.
Not obvious.
Not enough to get screamed at.
Enough to help.
Maya shot her a look.
Lena didn’t remove her hand.
They walked welded together.
Two broken machines propping each other up.
By kilometer eight, Lena’s vision started tunneling.
Edges darkened.
Sounds dulled.
Her world shrank to boots and dust.
She tasted copper.
This is where people quit.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
They just… stop.
She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached.
Not quitting doesn’t mean strong.
It means stupid.
Good.
She could be stupid.
The final marker appeared.
Someone sobbed.
Someone laughed hysterically.
They crossed.
Just under the time limit.
Lena didn’t remember stopping.
She remembered being on her knees.
She remembered Maya’s forehead pressed to the ground.
Neither moved.
Captain Wolfe walked past them.
Paused.
Looked down.
“Stand.”
Neither responded.
“Stand.”
Lena tried.
Nothing happened.
Maya twitched.
Nothing.
Captain Wolfe crouched.
Not looming.
Not yelling.
- Writer
