Rites of Passage (34 page)

I grit my teeth as he gets closer, determined to keep my legs up as long as he's talking. My abs shake, sweat drips down my face, but I won't break. And that's more than some of my recruit buddies can say. Nix is already sitting up on my left when Julius gives the command to change to jumping jacks.

Before I can get up, though, Matthews crouches in front of me, his face contorted in anger. “You think you can get to us? Like we don't know what you set up on Junior Ring?”

“Corporal Matthews, this recruit—” My racing pulse has nothing to do with the PT now.

“Save it. You can come at us with guns blazing. It's not going to make a difference. We have always ruled this school. We will continue to rule this school. You're just a blip on our radar. One that will be gone before the year is over.”

“Corporal Matthews,” I say, my lips turning up, mimicking his signature sneer, “the corporal said that at the beginning of the year. But this recruit is still here, and will be here long after the corporal is gone, Corporal Matthews.”

He pushes down on my shoulder and my abs can't support the weight. My head slams against the floor and I immediately roll onto my stomach, trying to find grip on the slick floor. I start pushing up but a sharp pain in my side sends me back to the ground. It happens a second time. Then a third.

Matthews's boot. Kicking me in the side—right where the rubber bullet hit. I feel something crack. Spots cloud my vision. Tears stream down my face, mixing with the sweat. I cry out but no one hears over the music and they're all too focused on their own pain to see what's happening to me on the ground at the end of the hall anyway.

“Keep it up, McKenna. Things have changed in the Society. You'll pay for that one.”

When he steps back I struggle to get up, bent over and keeping an arm protectively at my side.

“Five minutes 'til lights-out, Worms. Hurry the hell up!” Matthews storms off the deck and I suck in a ragged breath.

“You okay, Mac?” Ritchie and Nix are standing next to me now, but they're both going to get reamed if Matthews sees us talking.

I nod, taking one shaky step, then another. I just make it to the bathroom before I throw up.

THIRTY-FIVE

THE NEXT DAY, CAMPUS IS SOGGY BUT AT LEAST IT'S DRYING
out. It takes everything in me to march to the mess hall. I've got to focus hard just to stay upright. I think Matthews cracked a rib last night.

“Company! Halt!”

I force my body to stop its forward momentum, wincing as I do. At least we're corporal-free for second mess. I don't think I could handle looking at Matthews without either throwing up or punching him.

“McKenna, stay back a moment,” Drill says after he dismisses the company to lunch. The thundering feet of my recruit buddies fade away. “Are you okay? You didn't look well this morning and you look worse now.”

I want to tell him what happened last night, but not here, where anyone can see.
I'll tell you tonight.
I mouth the words, then speak loudly in case the upperclassmen milling around are paying attention. “Drill Sergeant Stamm, this recruit is fine, Drill Sergeant.”

“Very well. Fall out,” he says, but he's not happy.

Jogging, even though every step sends shooting pain spider-webbing across my side, I head into the mess hall. I trudge over to the soup and salad bar, my stomach rolling from the pain in my ribs.

“Tomato soup, please. And, can I have it in a cup?” I say to the cafeteria lady. It's all I can manage. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep anything down.

“Right away, dear.” She moves around behind the counter and, a few seconds later, hands me a cup of soup. “We're proud of you, sweetie. Keep it up.”

Her kindness is almost too much. I try to smile and walk away, heading to my table. I sit, but the smell of food just makes me feel worse.

“You okay, McKenna?” Kelly whispers. It's the first time he's spoken directly to me in months.

I shake my head before I remember he's the enemy. Nix is at the other end of the table—too far away to notice, and I can't take the time to alert him. I've got to get away. Pushing my chair back, I abandon my food and wind my way through tables full of cadets talking and laughing. I shouldn't have come.

Outside, the PG comes in and out of focus as I head to the barracks. My head spins and more than once I almost fall. Once inside the safety of the stairwell of Stonewall Hall, I lean against the wall to catch my breath.

The door opens but I can't even force myself to stand at attention. Kelly is in my face. “Okay. Enough. What the hell is going on?”

“What are you talking about? I'm fine.” I force myself to start walking up the stairs. We're still not supposed to be talking and the last thing I need is another reason for Matthews to smoke us again tonight.

“I'm your recruit brother, Mac,” he says. He takes the stairs two at a time until he beats me to the landing. “I know I haven't acted like it, but I am.”

His face is so close to mine I can smell the mint ice cream he had for dessert. “You
are
my recruit buddy, but you're something else, too.” I put my hand on his chest over his name tag, where Matthews drilled the pins into his skin. “I know, Kelly. I don't understand why, but I know you're involved with the Pandora Society.”

His eyes go wide but he doesn't deny it.

“I don't know what they're giving you that your company can't—”

“My whole life people have depended on me. My brother, my parents. Everything I do revolves around them somehow. Help Mom to help my brother. Help my brother to help Mom. It never ends.” He releases my hand and then punches the wall. “Matthews doesn't expect anything from me other than for me to be the best soldier I can be. He pushes me to be the strongest version of myself. It's not about me helping anyone else. For once, it's just about
me.
”

I don't laugh only because it would hurt too much. “Sure. You, turning against your company. Against me.”

He looks hurt. “It didn't start out that way.”

“Of course it didn't.” I push my anger at Kelly aside. If he's opening up, I've got to keep him talking. “Something's changed in the Society hasn't it?”

Kelly shakes his head. “Yes—no. How do you know about this?”

“Your
friends
have been trying to get me to quit all year,” I say, my ribs pounding the more agitated I get. “They've just gotten a little more aggressive lately. That means something's changed.”

“What do you mean ‘more aggressive'? What's wrong, Mac?”

“Screw it. You really want to know?” I pull up my camo blouse and the brown shirt underneath, my ribs purple and black for him to see.

“What the hell?” He bends down, putting his hand on my side and inspecting the bruise. “What happened?”

I hiss in a breath. “Your precious Society. Matthews. The changes a little more than you expected?”

“He didn't—”

“Like hell he didn't. His boot did this last night when you were conveniently away. Still think he's a good guy?”

“I didn't know. I swear I didn't know, Sam. We had an initiate meeting.” He pleads, gripping my hands in his. “You can't think I would have let them do this if I had known. I knew they were
saying
things. But I didn't know he'd kick you.”

“That's not all they've done. They hit me with frozen snowballs. They
shot
me.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because you're
with
them, Kelly. You're one of them! You and Wilson both!”

“You've been going through this all alone?” His face is scrunched up and he won't meet my eyes.

“Of course not. Jax has been helping me. And other people.” There's no way I'm letting him know about Drill, Nix, Ritchie, and the rest of them. Not if he's going to take their names back to Matthews.

He drops my hands, holding his out in between us. “I'm done. I swear. I never knew they would go this far. It's over.” He just keeps shaking his head.

“I wish I could believe you. But I don't.” I turn before he can answer and start climbing the stairs again, using the handrail to steady myself. When we get on deck I dig my room key out of my pocket.

There are voices behind the door, hushed.

“Is Cross in here?”

“She shouldn't be.” I'd been too focused on my side to even notice she didn't march down to lunch with us. “Maybe she and Evers made up.” But I hope it's not true.

“No chance of that,” he says. “Evers is completely out.”

I push the door open and step into the room. “Bekah?”

We stare at each other for a second, her in her bra and me about to throw up because the person holding her against the wall has his shirt off, and a circular tattoo on his shoulder, just like the one on Evers. He turns to look at me, his eyes glazed over and lips swollen red. No, it's definitely not Evers.

THIRTY-SIX

“WHO'S IN—” KELLY STEPS TOWARD ME.

I turn and push him out the door, closing it behind me and trying to get the picture of Matthews out of my head. “Forget it. Let's go.”

“Mac, what the hell is going on?”

“Just go back to the mess hall. I'll be okay.”

“Who was in the room?” He puts his hand on my arm when we get outside, stopping me.

I jerk away from him. My hands are shaking and the dizziness is getting worse. Bekah is with Matthews now. “You want to make up for this?”

“Yes. What can I do?” Kelly pleads.

“Give me something I can use. Anything to help me fight them.”

And then he does. He gives me the name of every single Pandora Society member at the DMA—Lyons, Matthews, Evers, Harper, Watkins, and more. Twelve in all.

And Jonathan's not one.

I breathe a sigh of relief, committing the names to memory to tell Drill later. “Thank you.”

“It's the least I can do. I feel like shit, Mac.”

I chuckle, even though it hurts like hell. “You think you feel like shit, try being my ribs for a few minutes. Now help me get to the chapel before I pass out.”

 

Later, after Rev listened to Kelly's confessions, I call Mom. Dad's doing better and he's started physical therapy. It's a huge step. Just five minutes talking to her helped more than I could ever have thought possible. She sounds stronger and that helps me find the strength I need to show Drill the evidence of Matthews's latest attempt to get me to quit.

I slip out of my room after lights-out, not having to worry about sneaking past Bekah because she hasn't come back to the room yet. Kelly's joined Nix with tonight's watch, his guilt driving him to join the Guard Sam platoon. He doesn't ask questions, but follows us down the stairs and out into the night.

Drill and Huff are hard at work in the weight room. I stand at the open door, watching Drill finish counting a set for him. “Good, Huff. You're doing really good. You'll be ready to test for Corps PT at the end of April when we do fitness tests.”

“I don't know about all that. . . .”

“Don't talk yourself down. You've worked really hard. Now, why don't you get on the treadmill and run a 5k.”

“Dude, you're killing me.”

Drill laughs and stretches his arms above his head.

“Hey,” I say when Huff is on the treadmill, earbuds in, and Drill heads toward the water fountain.

“Feeling better?” Then he notices Kelly and Nix standing near me.

“No, not really.” I sit down on one of the weight machine seats and lean back, wincing as I stretch out my ribs a bit too much.

He keeps his eyes on Kelly. “What's he doing here?”

“If you'd be quiet, maybe I could explain.”

For a second, his mouth curls up on one side. “I'll shut up.”

“About time.” I smile, trying to let him know that it's going to be okay. “Evers is out of the Society. Lyons is, too. Matthews has been promoted.”

“What? How?”

“I'll explain everything, I promise. But you need to listen.” I look toward Kelly. He's hanging his head and won't meet Drill's eyes. “Kelly's done with it all, too. When I showed him my side he realized what was going on.”

“Your side?” He takes a step toward me, concerned.

My fingers shake as I reach for the hem of my PT shirt. I lift the edge of the fabric, pulling it up just enough so he can see the bruise.

“What the hell happened?” He looks like he's ready to murder someone. He uncurls one hand enough to rub the sweat off his forehead.

I swallow. “Matthews. During the smoke show last night.”

“Son of a bitch!” His right hand explodes outward, punching into the metal bar of the weight machine. It must hurt like hell, but he does it again.

“Drill . . .”

“I'm going to kill him.”

I stand up, wincing at the movement, and step toward him, putting a hand on his chest. “I need you here right now.” I take a shaky breath, wondering how to proceed. “I think I've come up with a plan. Kelly says Jonathan had nothing to do with the Society—that Lyons was pressuring him to get me to quit all year. Jonathan said he needed proof. Well, here it is. Kelly's named the twelve Corps members; we've got my medical charts. He can't ignore the proof if we take pictures to show him my side.”

After looking at me for a few seconds he takes a step back, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. I struggle out of my shirt, thanking God that I'd been able to manage changing into a sports bra earlier without needing Bekah's help.

After he takes three photos, from the front, the side, and the back, he helps me back into my shirt. “Ouch.” I wince.

“Sorry.” His face is pale and he looks sick.