A cold breeze blew past as Fletcher stared into the dark jungle. It was their third exercise of the week, and it was finally his turn to be in command of the squad. He was more than halfway through officer training now, in his sixth week of the course. The first four weeks had been almost exclusively classroom time with studying and tests, reminding him quite a bit of his time in college.

  His four years getting a degree in math proved to be a big advantage compared to the other candidates. The Mixed didn’t have colleges or universities. The only way to get advanced schooling and training for a career was through the military, and officer training was typically done early in one’s military career, so Fletcher had a huge leg up. That meant he killed it in regards to all the tests they took. Hajji failed the first test due to White’s sabotage, but Fletcher managed to convince him afterwards to avoid White and his crew.

  Fletcher took extra precautions against whatever White did to screw with textbooks, and he often switched books with other people and studied in odd locations, far away from the lounge and bedrooms. It worked out since he performed well. Very well—better than White with his tricks that screwed over so many others in the class. Fletcher was ranked top in regards to the academics, but with the leadership exercises they were now doing, his overall standing was dropping.

  It turned out that teaching a classroom of teenagers didn’t make for great preparation for leading a squad of soldiers in battle exercises. It didn’t help that two-thirds of the candidates in his class had been raised in the Mixed, meaning they’d lived and breathed the military since they were children.

  But he was determined to change that this time around. His last attempt hadn’t gone so well, but he’d do better this time. Hopefully. He had two more weeks to pull some kind of miracle off to save his standing before the training was over and ranks would be solidified.

  “What do you think, Dixon?” Campos said from behind.

  Fletcher bit his lip. “Let’s wait another minute, just to be safe.”

  He felt the eyes of the others on him, but he couldn’t backtrack his choice. That would look bad. Captain Yusuf was listening to them, even watching them through cameras to grade Fletcher on his leadership abilities. That added even more stress to the situation.

  “Okay. Now,” he said, adding a confidence to his voice that he didn’t share in his heart. He might as well kiss that analyst position goodbye. Not to mention he’d have to endure the gloating from White if the man ended up beating him in the rankings after all.

  Taking hold of his rifle, Fletcher led the way into the trees. They were nothing like what he’d seen before while living in Loketa or Alcett or even in Bren’it’p. They were tall with the majority of the foliage clustered in a sphere at the top, reminding him in part of a desert plant rather than something that would grow in this cool, humid climate. Evening was setting in, making it difficult to see, but it wasn’t quite dark enough for his [Dark Vision] to activate either, putting him in a poor spot to lead.

  But he led anyway, since he believed that was an important part of leadership in general—being willing to do whatever he asked others to do.

  They were using the taser guns like what he used in Hotshot training, and they were still going up against the other squads from their platoon. Tonight, White was acting as a commander as well, so Fletcher would be going head to head against his nemesis. Only it was more of a race rather than a fight.

  The goal was to reach the top of the mountain first with the most number of your team alive, but there were “enemies” stationed throughout to act as defenses. Campos led them last night, and she actually managed to win the whole thing, reaching the target location two minutes before any other team and with only a single loss. That meant their squad was definitely good enough to win again, but it would all depend on how Fletcher managed them.

  They were in a new starting spot for this exercise and the defenses were spread out differently so he couldn’t just repeat Campos’s tactics.

  Keeping a firm hold on his gun, Fletcher shoved his way through the lower undergrowth of the mountainous jungle, rocks and roots threatening to trip his every step. The other nine members of his squad were behind him in the order he originally set up. Campos was at the back since he trusted her, and he knew she would have his back. His first exercise in leading had gone poorly since he had set Galle at the back, and she failed epically, dragging the entire team down with her.

  Part of Fletcher was convinced she might have done it on purpose to tank his rankings, but scummy moves like that were part of the process. Everyone in officer training was looking out exclusively for themselves. They would take any advantage they could get. Which is why he had Campos, one of the two people he considered true friends out of the entire platoon, at the rear to manage problems that cropped up there.

  As he got farther into the trees, more of the light faded.

  [Dark Vision: Active]

  He hesitated for a moment and then called out for flashlights, knowing that would take away his minor advantage. They weren’t given night vision goggles, so his choice was to have everyone use light or rely on himself and the few others who had [Dark Vision]. While the [Skill] was far superior to beams of light, he felt that the benefits of having everyone capable of watching out for enemies outweighed it.

  [Dark Vision: Inactive]

  After he attached his beam to his gun, Fletcher kept it pointed out and at the ready as they continued on their course. At the back of his mind he knew they were going too slow, but he didn’t want to run head first into a trap and lose the majority of the squad in such a idiotic blunder.

  Then again, speed still mattered, and it wouldn’t matter if the entire squad was still in the game if they came in dead last.

  “Let’s jog,” Fletcher decided. This was a competition after all. Risks had to be taken.

  Being at the front, he got to establish the pace, so he kept it on the slower side in hopes of maintaining alertness to the dangers that could crop up at any moment, especially given he chose to go with flashlights over [Dark Vision].

  The various beams from his team behind him illuminated only a few patches of the jungle as he ran. He kept checking the trees for any signs of danger, but he also had to keep them on track to reach the summit, so he couldn’t deviate from watching their path too long. He would have to rely on his teammates to notify him of trouble, which was a disheartening thought.

  “Ahead, Dixon,” someone shouted from the squad.

  Fletcher stopped and dropped to the ground, his gun still at the ready. “Flashlights off,” he called out. The last thing they needed was to make themselves such obvious targets. “Everyone spread out. Stick with someone who can see if you can’t.”

  The beams of light disappeared.

  [Dark Vision: Active]

  Fletcher scanned the trees ahead, crawling forward as he remained low to the ground. There was no sign of whatever someone claimed to see, but he didn’t want to risk getting back into formation yet, just in case.

  There! Movement in the trees. Even with his [Dark Vision] at such a low level, it was enough for him to notice the fluctuating outlines of something moving ahead.

  He popped off two quick shots and then rolled out of the way to keep himself hidden. The faint grunt from ahead signalled one of his darts found a target.

  “They’re in the trees! Watch out!” he yelled to his team. Good. If they could clean out this set, then he’d feel a little more comfortable increasing their pace going forward. He didn’t expect they’d run into too much more resistance after this.

  A dart flew past Fletcher, forcing him to fall all the way to the ground. Shooting erupted all around him from both his team and group they were facing. He sat up enough to get his rifle positioned and then he released his own spray of darts into the trees, not worrying too much about accuracy.

  “Galle is down,” one of his squad members called out.

  “So is Huan,” another added.

  Fletcher bit his lip, the panic of the moment paralyzing him as he considered their options. They should stay and fight it out, but that risked more of his team. Getting to the end with few left alive wouldn’t be enough to win. But if they tried to retreat and find another path, that would eat up too much of their time.

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  Stay. Go. Stay. Go.

  They were both bad options. He needed to try something else. A new idea popped into his head, something that was probably the worst out of the three, but he decided to trust his instincts and run with it anyway.

  Fletcher stood up. “On me. Keep your lights off. We’re going to outrun them.”

  The rest of the squad followed him as he raced forwards. If the enemies were scattered throughout the trees around them, they weren’t completely cut off from their goal. If there was one thing Fletcher excelled at, it was running, so he was going to bet on his team’s speed instead of their blind shooting.

  More darts flew around him, but Fletcher focused entirely on keeping the path and dodging the most obvious signs of enemies ahead, hoping to skirt through the cracks of their positioning. It was either going to be enough to get them free and back on track, or it was going to mark the end of his team and whatever future dreams he had of getting a position that had nothing to do with fighting.

  Onwards he ran, his team behind him. He sidestepped tree trunks and shoved through bushes, thinking only of escaping the danger and maintaining their course. After a few minutes, Fletcher realized the commotion around them had died down. They might have actually done it.

  He decreased his pace, conscious of how much effort he was asking his team to expend. It was better to keep things a little slower so they had the endurance to make it all the way to the top.

  “Good call, Dixon,” Campos said. “I didn’t think we’d make it out of there.”

  “Me neither,” he murmured to himself. “Alright, flashlights on. We need to keep going if we’re going to beat the other teams.”

  Beams of light cut through the grayness before him as white text appeared in the corner of his vision.

  [Dark Vision: Inactive]

  Fletcher got a headcount from his team. They’d only lost two so far, and if he was lucky, that would be it. With that minimal of losses, if they reached the summit first, he might jump up in the rankings again.

  Once ensuring everyone was set, he upped the pace slightly. This time he decided to deviate slightly from the straight course to the summit, hoping that would minimize how much more resistance they ran into.

  It seemed to work out since they had a quiet run through the nighttime jungle for a couple more miles. As the trees thinned, he knew they were close to reaching the target location. Then he would know if he’d pushed his team fast enough or not.

  As he took the first step out of the safety of the trees, Fletcher dove to the ground, his flashlight catching a glint of metal up ahead, coming from an oddly straight wall of bushes.

  The dart sailed over him.

  “Take cover!” he shouted to the others. Of course there was one more set of defenses to bypass. He should have expected this, though he was surprised they set up in the open like that.

  As Fletcher rolled in the dirt, hiding behind the safety of a bush, he happened upon an unconscious body from one of the other squads. That meant they weren’t the first ones to reach this point.

  That sucked, but there was nothing he could do about it now. His goal was to keep the rest of the squad alive and get to the target location anyway in hopes they might take second.

  More darts flew through the air, his team returning to fire as Fletcher shuffled to get himself into position to shoot. It was difficult to remain hidden behind the bush and find a comfortable position when there was a body at his feet.

  That was odd. From what he recalled, there was a medical crew stationed with every group of “enemies” who was in charge of evacuating every “dead” person from the situation after skirmishes. Shouldn’t this body be gone already? What was it doing here?

  Fletcher peeked out from the foliage, turning his flashlight off. Thanks to the mess of fighting, most of the other beams were already off or so chaotically swinging around that they didn’t bother him.

  [Dark Vision: Active]

  Everything was in grayscale, and his sight lacked details, but he still noticed the bandana tied around one of their attackers’ arms. This wasn’t a planned set of defenses put out to test them. This was another team fighting them to keep them from reaching the end.

  “Guys, this is another squad,” Fletcher said into his radio.

  “What? Are you sure, Dixon? That’s against the rules,” Campos replied.

  Teams were competing in a race, not fighting each other. That rule had been repeated to them over and over. Someone didn’t care.

  Fletcher tightened the grip on his gun. White. Who else would pull this kind of stunt.

  “I’m sure,” he said. “Stay on your guard.”

  “What do we do? We’re not supposed to fight other teams,” another squad member said.

  He sucked his lip. There was no way to reach the end without going through these guys, but taking them out was technically breaking the rules of engagement.

  “We fight. That’s our only way through. They started this, but we’re going to finish it,” he decided.

  Standing from his cover, Fletcher used his better vantage point to nail two of the other squad members in the chest. He then advanced on their position, determined to take all of them out.

  Others from his team followed his lead as they approached the makeshift base from the other team. Glancing around, Fletcher noticed more unconscious bodies from other victims to White’s trap. They would have to be careful not to injure them. There was a reason for the rules of engagement, but if White was going to cheat, Fletcher was going to defend himself and his team.

  A dart caught Fletcher in the shoulder, but with a thought, he activated [Frenzy]. He would have turned it on the whole time since he didn’t have [Mana] which meant there was no barrier to using it like that, except that doing so would definitely raise suspicion given his cover as a [Vampire], so he only used it when he had to.

  [Activating: Frenzy]

  The pain was only a blip as the [Skill] took hold, strengthening his body and sharpening his senses. Even his [Dark Vision] seemed better when he was in [Frenzy].

  Fletcher dashed forwards, his usual carefulness lost in the bitter rage he held against White. His team wasn’t as fast as him, but they still followed suit. Maybe it was a stupid plan, but rushing them was their only way through. They couldn’t win in a firefight when they had such poor cover comparatively.

  Another dart nailed Fletcher in the shoulder, but it did nothing to inhibit him as he jumped over the bushes where White’s team was hiding. He fired his gun immediately, deciding to play their same dirty game.

  The two nearest to him dropped, but a third stood up, unharmed.

  It was the man himself—White.

  “Dixon,” the man growled, holding his gun up.

  “You cheated,” Fletcher accused.

  “It’s called winning. You wouldn’t know a thing about it.” The man grinned at him as he took aim.

  Fletcher took the dart without problems thanks to his [Frenzy], and he returned fire at White. The man was quick, already dodging before Fletcher’s shot went off. Snarling, Fletcher chased after him, and he cornered White against his own defenses.

  The man cowered against the bushes, his gun lying to the side since Fletcher had made it clear he could handle a couple of darts. “You wouldn’t shoot me, Dixon. It’ll ruin any chance you have of—”

  White’s idiotic words were cut off as Fletcher put four darts in him in succession. He was done with this cheating fool. Turning around, he discovered that the rest of his team had been successful in taking out the others. The fight was over rather quickly. Obviously White’s team hadn’t expected another team to launch such a strong offensive against them.

  Fletcher maintained his [Frenzy] since he took enough darts that he was going to pass out if he deactivated it, but he hoped no one would think twice about it.

  “That’s all ten of them,” Campos said. “Deities, what were they thinking? Why would they do this?”

  Fletcher gestured to the other bodies scattered around. “They took out all the other teams with it. They were going to win by default if no one else ever made it to the target location.”

  “But since we took them out, doesn’t that mean we win by default?” someone pointed out.

  “Only one way to find out.” Fletcher motioned ahead. “Let’s get to the summit.”

  Everyone followed him the last mile to their target location. Captain Yusuf waited there and angrily marched up to Fletcher.

  “Dixon, what in deities’ names do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “White is the one who started this. We did what we had to do in order to complete our assignment.” Fletcher kept his hands behind his back. He was going to stand by his decision to fight it out, even if it meant taking a hit in his ranking. That was worth it to see White’s scheme fail.

  “And the rest of your team? How do you all feel about Dixon’s decision to break the rules?” Yusuf asked.

  “Dixon led us through several encounters and kept the majority of the squad alive. I support his decisions as leader,” Campos replied.

  Fletcher tensed, waiting for everyone else to disagree. This was a perfect chance to tank him in order to better their own positions.

  But no one did. They all voiced agreement with Campos, saying they thought Fletcher made the right call against White.

  Yusuf turned to him with an almost smile. “Good job, candidate. Your squad is first to the target location and given the few losses, I’m pleased to name you the winners of tonight’s exercise. Return to camp.”

  “Yes, sir.” Fletcher saluted with a hesitant breath. They won. That would put him back on top of the rankings. He might get that analyst role after all, assuming he could maintain his position a little longer.

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