Chief-in-Command Bragg was already on the field, making his way over to the two teams. With hands extended overhead, he motioned everyone to huddle around him. He turned toward the sidelines and motioned to the Lone Stars, as well as the gray and blue sidelined players: “Everyone, move in … gather round!”
Everyone circled around the chief. Collin assessed the other players and started to feel discouraged. Some of these men and women were older than he’d thought—perhaps as old as twenty-five?
“Take this opportunity to greet the other Chains, the other recruits, that you will be competing against over the next six weeks. First, under command of Fico Lucan, we have the Brave Hearts in blue.”
A beefy-looking guy, with several days’ stubble, half-heartedly raised a hand.
“Next, we have Commander Rocco Puma, of the Righteous Warriors in gray.”
Rocco bobbed his chin once.
“Lastly, we have Commander Collin Frost, with his Lone Stars, garbed in red.”
Collin also gave a half-hearted wave with his hand. “What up!” he offered.
“Starting now, there will be the awarding, and detraction, of tributes … which will include the short Pangallo game you’re about to participate in. And later today for the weapons and marksmanship training; the one-on-one close-quarters combat; and on your on-station duties. You have a full day ahead of you. Now, you will play three-team Pangallo for one hour. Take your positions.”
“Chief, can I ask a question?” Collin asked.
The chief raised his eyebrows.
“Where does the third circle formation start from?”
Apparently that was a stupid question; recruits from both the blue and gray teams snickered.
The chief turned to Rocco Puma. “Commander, can you inform Commander Frost of the correct third team starting position?”
“Your choice, either end,” Puma answered.
“Take your positions,” the chief said again.
Collin turned to Darren. “Any suggestions?”
Without hesitation, Darren began tapping on shoulders, “Bubba, you’re in, Collin in, Humphrey in, Lydia in, Tink, Karen, DiMaggio, White, you’re in, and Gregg, you’re in. The rest of you are sidelined.” There were a few groans as the latter moved off to the sidelines.
The Lone Stars took up position at the same end of the field as the blue Brave Hearts team. Both teams moved away from each other, closer to the sidelines.
“Okay … everyone join arms,” Collin said, joining elbows with Bubba on his left and DiMaggio on his right. As soon as their circle was linked together, a referee rolled a ball into its center.
Collin looked around the circle and saw apprehension on their faces.
“By the way … I received a memo from Captain Dante Primo last night. He informed me, we only get the
Turd
back if we come out of the six-week training with more tributes than the other two Chains. To the winner goes all spoils.” Collin shrugged, the news now delivered.
Humphrey looked like he was about to have an aneurism. “How the hell can he just change things like that? That’s total bullshit!”
Several in the group spat similar remarks. The apprehension on their faces from moments before was now replaced with anger. Collin inwardly smiled.
At the sound of the gong, Collin shot forward for the ball.
Chapter 26
The gong came again five seconds later as the referee stopped play. Apparently Cine had wandered onto the field.
The referee raised a hand and made an unrecognizable gesture. “Too many players on the field; subtraction of ten tributes from red team!”
Humphrey screamed toward the sideline, “Get the hell off the field, freak!”
Bound arm-in-arm, Lydia and Tink, looking small and scared, stared at each other and then at Darren and Collin. Frustration was clearly evident on their faces.
“Can we just wait up a sec? I’m not like one of you football players … or the Pangallo players. Neither is Tink. What if we drop the ball? We’ll get killed out there,” Lydia said in exasperation.
Everyone got ready again for the sound of the gong.
“You’ll just have to buck-up, girls. We’re all in over our heads,” Darren told them, leaning forward, ready to attack the ball.
Gong
. Darren and the two players at his side ran forward while the players across from him ran backwards. Karen lost her balance, but the players on either side quickly lifted her up by her elbows and back onto her feet. The red Lone Star circle began to make unsteady progress down the field.
“They’re leaving us in the dust,” Humphrey screamed. “Pick up the pace!”
Collin, positioned at the side of the circle, was doing his best to watch where he was going, yet study the other team. “They constantly move … keeping their circle turning. I think it helps them run faster,” he yelled.
Slowly at first, Collin’s team started to move their circle counter-clockwise as they progressed down the field. They hadn’t gained any on the blue team, but they hadn’t lost ground, either.
The gray team was now moving close to the midfield line. The blues and grays were going to collide. Collin heard the sounds of bodies hitting bodies again and watched as two blue team players tumbled to the ground. Without hesitation, the gray team spun around and moved away from the two fallen blues. Picking up speed, they headed toward the Lone Stars.
Collin saw an opportunity. “Slow down … stop spinning! Let Bubba hit their circle first.”
Easier said than done. Their circle slowed but continued spinning for several more seconds, heading for a collision with the grays. Fortunately, their two hundred and seventy pound center, Royce White, barreled into their players. Royce, like an immense bowling ball, caused four grays to go airborne. They grunted as they hit the ground. The Lone Stars held their circle together without any links broken. The gong sounded.
Collin heard Owen Platt and Garry Hurst shout taunts and obscenities at the opposing teams from the sidelines. The referee looked ready to issue another penalty. Fortunately, the two boys quieted down.
All three circles re-formed.
Darren was back barking orders. “We have to move it! Tink, Lydia … Karen, up on the shoulders of Bubba, White and …” he looked around the circle, “and you, Collin.”
Bubba lifted Tink onto his shoulders with one arm. Royce got Karen up on his shoulders, which left only Lydia standing, looking up at Collin.
“It’s not the frigging prom here, Sticks. Just help her up,” Humphrey prompted.
Collin lowered himself to one knee as Lydia climbed onto his shoulders from behind. Unsteady at first, he stood all the way up. He felt the warmth of her thighs pressed in around his neck and shoulders. He glanced up at her.
“Just pay attention to the game,” she scolded.
The players intertwined their arms again.
“Wait! Which way are we going? Which way is our end zone?” DiMaggio asked.
There were more than a few confused expressions around the circle.
“We keep going the same way we started. Good God … are you all retarded?” Darren asked between clenched teeth.
The referee was back and placed the yellow ball in the middle of their circle. Each of the circles now had their three females up on teammate shoulders.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go of the person next to you,” Darren ordered. “I’m going for the ball … I’ll get it up to one of the girls. Don’t forget to keep passing it around. You got that?”
The three girls nodded, none looking particularly confident.
Collin looked behind him and saw that the players within the other two circles were quickly making plans, strategizing in hushed voices. He caught the eye of one of the opposing players. He mouthed something unintelligible, but Collin got the gist of it: He was out for blood.
Gong!
Both the gray and blue teams broke apart. Darren pulled like a plow horse, both arms straining to maintain the holds at his elbows. Everyone moved in unison. The circle spun faster than before, the players somewhat more familiar with how things worked. Collin watched as Darren reached the ball and, soccer-style, dribbled it forward.
“Hey hey hey … Watch the left side!” Humphrey yelled. But it was too late. The blue team whipped their line of players toward the Lone Stars’ red circle. They had a Bubba counterpart—big and mean looking, the man at the end of the line was scary just standing still, let alone being whipped around with the accumulated momentum of a freight train. He charged at the Lone Stars with enough force to bring three of the teens down to their knees: DiMaggio, Humphrey and Gregg. Each grimaced. Collin guessed that it must have felt as though their arms were being yanked from their shoulders.
The referee scurried in and, with his hands on knees, closely inspected the fallen red players. “The Lone Stars’ links are unbroken … they maintain possession … continue play!”
Scrambling back to their feet, the Lone Stars, their arms still intertwined, began moving again.
“Get ready, Lydia!” Darren said, now dribbling faster. He glanced up at her, perched high on Collin’s shoulders.
“Careful … Blues are coming,” Collin said, seeing their swinging line of players running full out, ready to make their swing inward.
Darren got the ball a foot into the air with the toe of his shoe, then gave it another bigger kick, sending the ball high in the air, over everyone’s heads. Collin strained to position Lydia beneath the ball. She caught it with both hands and immediately tossed it over to Karen, who in turn tossed it over to Tink. Three more swinging lines of attack came from the opposing teams, as the Lone Stars’ circle steadily made progress down the field.
The gray Righteous Warriors had managed to get themselves into a straight line in front of the now-approaching goal line. There was no way the red team would be able to cross into the end zone as a circle.
Collin yelled across to Bubba, “Let go of Humphrey’s arm. We’re going to whip you into their line. Lydia, when you get the ball, pass it back to Tink.” Collin’s eyes met Darren’s—he nodded his agreement to the plan.
Bubba let go of Humphrey’s arm just as the Brave Hearts, in blue, made their own move. Their leader, Fico Lucan, was at the end of their line—ready to snap forward.
The ball continued to be passed—to Lydia, then to Tink, back to Lydia, then to Karen, around and around. In a united effort, the line of Lone Stars, ten players arm-in-arm, swung around one hundred and eighty degrees. By the time Bubba and his substantial girth careened into the line of gray Righteous Warriors, near the center of the field, there was nothing their players could do to stop him. He hit them like a bus hitting traffic cones. Lydia passed the ball to Tink, in the end zone. She yelled, “Pangallo!” With that, the referee announced the Lone Stars had scored and were awarded one hundred points, minus the ten they’d lost earlier.
While the Lone Stars reveled in being the first to score, Collin noticed Captain Dante Primo standing on the sidelines, next to the chief. Over the next forty-five minutes, the other two teams scored once. Both teams, Righteous Warriors and Brave Hearts, had earned one hundred tributes, while the Lone Stars had ninety.
Chapter 27
The march from the activity field over to the weapons range took five minutes. The Lone Stars were in low spirits. They weren’t used to losing, and even though it was only a ten-point deficit, they were still angry. Collin hadn’t expected them to do as well as they had against experienced, adult, opposition. Tink, Karen and Lydia were somewhat more upbeat with what they had accomplished as females on the team, but not everyone was that positive.
“We’re in last place … epic fail … and that doesn’t get us back home!” Humphrey spat.
“We’ll make up the difference somewhere else,” Collin said. But by the dark expressions on everyone’s faces, his pep talk was falling on deaf ears.
As they approached the weapons range, the muffled sounds of energy weapons being discharged increased. The corridor had become more and more congested with Brotherhood military personnel passing by. Some glanced at them with mild interest—others, with scowling obvious annoyance.
The range was in another immense compartment. As they filed in through the double-hatchway, Collin became immediately at ease. It wasn’t that it looked anything like the little rifle range he and his father frequented back home, in Middleton. Rather, it was more a feeling he got from a combination of different things: the sounds of constant weaponry fire—and something else—something that happens when there’s multiple shooters with their hyper-concentration—an almost imperceptible buzz which permeates the atmosphere.
The chief gestured with a finger to his lips for everyone to be quiet. They merged into one line and slowly walked behind him. The firing range was huge, closer in size to a typical golf course’s driving range. Collin noticed there were varying terrains off in the distance. With bright orange demarcations, each shooter had his, or her, own cordoned-off lane, or slice, that widened into the far distance. A dozen soldiers—some prone on the ground, some standing, and some down on one knee—were firing at a wide assortment of stationary and moving targets.
“They’re like holograms,” DiMaggio murmured in a lowered voice, standing behind Collin.
“The ultimate video game … I got to get me some of this,” Humphrey said from the back of the line.
The chief turned around while walking backwards. His eyes found Humphrey and his cold stare conveyed his intended message:
shut the hell up
.
But Collin’s attention was out on the range. The holograms were amazing. He’d actually only realized the targets were holograms when DiMaggio pointed it out. Some of the targets were armed attacking soldiers, dressed in some sort of battle suit. Other targets were hovering robots or drones, firing their own integrated energy weapons back at the shooters, who were practicing at the front of the range. He actually felt heat coming from a series of pulse shots from a tank-like hover vehicle now emerging over a distant crest. The boys looked at each other and smiled.
The chief waved everyone into a smaller compartment. The hatch slid closed behind the last teen to enter. With the exception of perhaps some big gun shows, Collin had never seen such an assortment of firearms in his life. Certainly he’d never seen this type of weaponry. Multiple rifle-rack rows lined two of the bulkheads. Another bulkhead was dedicated to smaller racks, and shelves, holding hand-held firearms.