August 19th, 2030, 4:13 pm

Water from the pool surges up over the ledge and finds the cracks between my toes to creep into. The mud forming around the concrete along the side of the pool cakes my feet and wipes off as the splashes rise up onto the surface. I roll my toes under the balls of my feet to squeeze out the liquid, but it keeps on coming. My proximity to the pool factors into that, I suppose.

The vicious August sun strikes down on us as we wait to leap into the pool for our swimming test. A wind from the sea blows in softly, but it hardly does the trick to cool us down. I find myself flicking the collar of my shirt in and out just to keep the minimal amount of air circulating around my body. I had no idea this scalding heat was going to hit us this afternoon. I think Private O'Shea mentioned that it neared one hundred degrees when we were eating lunch. I'm pretty certain that exposure to these types of temperatures is severely harmful, but hey, who am I to question what goes on at the Imperial Guard?

I bend forward and tug my shirt over my head. I'm tired of trying to just manually let the air cool my body. The sun isn't going to let up until nightfall, and we are going to be done long before then. I just have to brave through it. It's going to be September in a couple weeks, so that means the temperatures will start to drop once autumn begins. I can't wait that long. They're going to make us suffer in the killer heat of the summer.

My position in the long line of recruits puts me beside Hal once again and his friend, Mai. I sat with Mai at lunch, and she is one of the other kids expected to head into the top ten of the class. Every time I see her, she has her jet-black hair thrown up into a ponytail, bringing out the sharp, onyx color of her eyes. She is a little below average height for a girl; shorter than Celestine, I've noticed. Her slim, elusive figure doesn't allow her to stick out much in a crowd, but I hear she has the ability to impress on all fields of testing, which is not ignored.

Much to Hal's delight, Craig Larsson earned a worse time on the obstacle course this morning. He now holds the best rank on the island, though not by very much. A kid by the name of Wyatt Mallory was the closest to Hal, trailing by only a couple seconds. Hal apparently knows Wyatt, and he is no threat to his position.

"Wyatt's strong suit is his speed and stamina," Hal explained earlier. "Craig's strong suit is everything."

Our legs haven't entirely recovered from this morning's obstacle course. I tried convincing Hal that mine were in worse shape than his, but he shook it off as if I was joking. He said that if they really were, I would have gotten a better time than him. And I stopped prodding.

This afternoon's swimming test is supposedly an easy one. They time us for how long we can remain underwater without surfacing for air. For that, I just need to hold on for a little more than a minute, no matter how badly my lungs burn for oxygen. CJ told me that I just have to get past the burn, and the rest is easy. That was right before Luke shoved me into the water.

I haven't seen Luke and the Weller twins all day, which is fortunate for me and my ability to focus. I don't know how I would do if I had those three breathing down my neck during these tests. You know what? I couldn't care less about where they were, as long as they were nowhere near me. They split us up by group, so they probably are toward the back of the line.

But if they aren't near me, then they are near CJ instead. I don't know how I can live with that thought circling through my mind. After what they did to him on Thursday, I can't imagine the kind of torment they may be putting him through, and I'm not there to stop it. I'm the reason why CJ is being bullied by those pricks, and there is nothing I can do. I wish I could apologize to CJ for all of this. I never intended for him to be roped into this bullshit. I just wanted to be his friend.

Mai goes to school with Luke, so she knows what he is like when he isn't surrounded by Imperial Guard officers. "He's the kid that thinks he's one of the cool kids, but he tries too hard to fit in with them. He gets invited to all the parties, gets fucked up, and is just sloppy drunk, from what I've heard. Everyone is just so bothered by him. Some girls like him, though I think they're just as repulsive as he is."

Good to know.

I spot Sergeant Rory speaking to another young guard over by where Private O'Shea acts as the lifeguard. She definitely seems more courteous and kind than Sergeant Lee, and I've only known her for a few hours. She has to be from another class, maybe 28 or 27. But then who is the guy she's talking to? Both of them have the same insignia on their shoulder. Why don't I ask the master of all things Imperial Guard, standing right next to me?

"Who is the guy next to Sergeant Rory, Hal? That's not Lee, is it?"

Hal notices who I am pointing out, and he nods his head. "No, that Parker Frost. Sergeant of Class 28. I know him, too."

I roll my eyes, throwing my dry, white t-shirt over my shoulder. "Is there anyone around here that you don't know?"

"I've met most of the Sergeants and Corporals before, lucky enough. Rory, Frost, and Lee were all trained by Colonel MacTavish before me. Having that kind of connection definitely gives me a leg up, that's for sure."

I never told Hal about what Sergeant Lee said to me the night I visited CJ. He told me that the Colonel was lost to him, and he did not necessarily care for that bond any longer. I don't know if I should tell Hal that; I don't know how he would feel.

Maybe I should. I could never keep the truth between two friends as the man in the middle. If I never tell Hal, he'll never know there was ever a feud between them until he actually spoke to the Sergeant again, if they ever actually do. And what is Hal going to do about it? What he does is beyond my knowledge, power, and control. I just can't hold this against me and never share it the one who has given me hope.

"Uh, Hal?" I shuffle closer to him so my voice does not have to project. If I have to tell him about CJ's situation, I don't want other people to hear. That part is private.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"van Lester, let's go. You're up here with this group." Private O'Shea gazes down at his stopwatch. All the other boys in the category of sixteen have their shirts hanging on a steel rack beside the pool, while Hal has yet to unclothe his chest.

"Right! Sorry." He turns to me and frowns, curling his shirt over his abdomen. "Sorry, Slater. Hold that thought."

Of course. Any time I ever try to open up to anyone, this shit happens. It happened when I was going to tell Jake Harrison about my time on the run. And people wonder why I bottle up my emotions sometimes, why I tend to keep to myself when I'm having bad thoughts. I try to let it out whenever I can, but God! I feel like I can't get anywhere anymore.

Hal and the other fifteen boys hop into the water and hover away from the concrete edge. They are all a uniform distance from each other to ensure they don't interrupt their focus while underwater. I've never seen my friend in the pool, so I don't know how he's going to perform. I'm not going to guess something poor, only because this is Hal van Lester we're talking about.

Mai nudges me with her pointy elbow. "You might want to watch this one, Slater."

O'Shea shoots air into his whistle, and the sixteen boys sink under the surface of the churning pool. Hal is located nearest me, so I watch him fall to the middle depth of the water. I don't expect him, or anyone else for that matter, to come up for another thirty seconds or so. All we can do now is wait.

The first few recruits surface after O'Shea gives the one-minute signal. About ten more follow in the trailing seconds, leaving Hal and one other kid below. The other one is on the opposite side of the pool so I can't see who it is that Hal is up against. A head finally pierces into the air, meaning Hal is the last kid standing, or swimming.

O'Shea announces the two-minute mark. Hal is motionless toward the bottom of the pool. His chest is pointed toward the surface, but his body is stiff in a falling position. I feel sweat forming at the bottom of my hairline, but it isn't from the heat. I try to tear my eyes off of my friend, but Mai told me to watch.

I turn to her, my face shaking. "Is he okay?"

She doesn't say a word. Her lips stretch across her face.

His body jostles, and he springs to the world of oxygen above. He inhales sharply upon his arrival, and he skims over to where I am waiting, trying to seem calm. I thought he just fucking drowned, but he was only trying to pretend to be a fish. I hate this guy.

O'Shea whistles in disbelief. "van Lester leads the class with two minutes, thirty-two seconds. Two seconds off of an Imperial Guard record. Jot that down, Sergeant Rory. We may have an Emperor's Seal on our hands."

Hal shoots me a glance as he lifts his hand out, toward me. He spits some water and I grab a hold of him to pull him out of the pool. "Yeah, right. The only way I'm taking the Emperor's Seal is from MacTavish's, cold, dead hands."

I view Hal as he waves his hands dry. "What's the Emperor's Seal?"

He acknowledges Sergeant Rory approaching us, then turns back to me. "Oh, that? It's an award that the Emperor gives out to show his approval or whatever. It's typically given to the Sergeant of an incoming class if the Emperor believes they are worthy of such. And it only goes out to the best of the best."

Interesting. I would say that Hal is already showing that he's the best of the best. He's two seconds off of an Imperial Guard record and had the best time in the obstacle course this morning. If the Emperor doesn't think he is so-called "worthy," then I don't know who is. Hal is going to be a great Sergeant. I believe he can even be a General at some point.

It's my time to take to the pool and throw in my two cents. Maybe the Emperor's Seal should be something that I aim for, just so I can be better than the best. I mean, could you imagine? Slater Tross, the lost soul who was granted the OLC under no reasonable circumstances, is rewarded with the Emperor's Seal to wear on his sleeve. Is it wearable? I'd wear it in front of everyone who ever doubted me and still does.

As O'Shea commands, I hop into the water and tread. I can feel the cold in my blood, and my body shivers. I don't think I could voluntarily get hypothermia if I went underwater. How am I supposed to stay beneath the surface for more than a minute? I didn't think it was this cold when the water splashed up onto my feet. I keep my arms swerving back and forth in front of me to at least attempt to generate heat. I take my place closest to Hal and Mai.

"On my go, recruits," O'Shea barks. He holds his whistle beside his mouth.

"Let's go, Slater!" Mai shouts. Hal claps and repeats her words of encouragement. A smile forms on my face, and I momentarily forget about how numb I am.

The last thing I hear before sucking in air is the shrill whine of the Private's instrument. My hair waves around freely once submerged, and I can feel the water crawling through each strand. I'm going to keep my eyes shut, hoping to subdue the effects of time. Maybe I should have asked Hal how he was able to stay under for two and a half minutes. I bet it was a lot of extra practice, so it would be practically useless to me.

Get past the burning, CJ suggested last week. So far, I haven't felt it yet, though I can sense it coming soon. I know how it feels to be without air. When I ran away from those wild Medo people in the woods at my first night at the Manchesters', I fell into the creek and couldn't come up to breathe with the fear of getting shot. I survived that, and I don't know how long I was underwater then. Whatever it was, I can beat it. I know I can.

There it is. The outer lining of my lungs is starting to irritate me, bringing my chest some discomfort. On accident, I open my mouth and blow out some of the air. The pain transfers the center of my lungs, and I just shake my head. I need to hold this as long as I possibly can. I'm not far from the surface, but I refuse to give up just yet.

The agony just becomes too much, and I bend my legs to surge above the fluid boundary. I suck in as much air as I possibly can as I fall into the ledge on the side of the pool. I blink several times before peering up at Hal and Mai, who wear grins.

As I did for Hal, he assists me in coming up to dry land. I can hardly even stand up, so I just sit on the concrete, staring at the rest of the recruits who are now surfacing. So I didn't get the best time in my heat. Shit. That test was weak.

"Slater Tross," Sergeant Rory chirps, squatting down beside me with her clipboard in front of her and a pencil between her fingers. "One minute, five seconds. Nice work."

I can sense the false kindness in her voice. She knows that was shit, and I know it too. That was a horrible one. I don't know if that Emperor's Seal mentality ever decided to set in, but it clearly wasn't enough. Maybe I should just forget it and let Sergeant Hal van Lester get it instead.

I'm going to call it a night. I ran my two tests of the day; an impressive one and a miserable one. We'll head to dinner once all the tests are done, then hit the showers before resting. Tomorrow morning is the island run, and my legs still hurt from the obstacle course. 

Happy ranking, everyone.