WARNING! THERE IS A REALLY, REALLY BAD PUN IN THIS CHAPTER. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!

Micah woke me up the next morning.

I moaned pathetically and turned to my other side. I heard Micah sigh heavily.

"I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice."

I had actually fallen back asleep when I was jolted awake by a wave of numbingly cold water. I gasped.

"Micah!" I shrieked.

"You need to get ready. Boot camp's today," He replies, helping me out of the tub.

"You could've woken me up without giving me hypothermia," I whined. My clothes clung to my body, chilling me to the bone.

"You should get a nice hot shower," Micah suggested. "I'll have a change of clothes ready for you. I'll be in the lobby when you're done,"

I stared daggers at his back as he walked away. I really should get a shower, though.

I managed to peel off my pajamas and step into the shower. I turned the nozzle to hot.

"Oh, Azzi!" I heard Micah yell.

But it was too late. A surge of icy daggers stabbed me and I shrieked. I nearly slipped.

"Hot is cold, and cold is hot! I forgot to tell you!" Micah yells.

"Yeah, thanks!" I snapped.

I sighed and turned the nozzle to cold.

Soothingly hot water ran over my body. It felt good to take a nice, hot shower.

I had forgotten all the events of the previous night until I stepped out of the shower.

I saw my change of clothes lay on a counter nearby.

I took a deep breath and dried off.

I put on my underwear and studied the clothes.

There was a black tank top and jeans. On the floor below it sat a pair of Converses. I frowned. The jeans would be a tight fit, but I think I'll manage.

I put on the clothes and look at myself in the mirror. I shrugged and pulled up my hair into a wet ponytail.

I walked out into the lobby.

Micah was pacing, his hands in his pockets.

That guy sure does stick his hands in his pockets a lot.

He looked me up and down. "Those clothes fit you OK?" He asks.

"Yeah, the jeans are a bit tight, though,"

Micah waved his hand. "That's an easy fix. But loose clothing is important. Tight clothes restrict your movements."

I heard footsteps. I look over and see Sera walking over to us.

"Finally," Micah cried. "Sera here will teach you the basics using words and stuff,"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Micah is a very tactile learner. He has to do in order to learn," Sera explains.

"And also,"

Micah shot her a glare.

Sera bit her lip. "Other reasons."

I tried to study Micah's face, but it was unreadable.

"Come on," Sera beckoned, turning on her heel and strutting down the hall.

"What about Micah?" I said, looking over my shoulder as I tried to catch up to Sera.

"He'll teach you how to fire a gun, war strategy, etc." Sera replies. "You'll see him again once I teach you about your advanced mind,"

I nodded, still trying to keep up with Sera. She was wearing combat boots with 1 ½ inch heels and I could barely keep up with Converses on.

Sera turned sharply, and I stumbled like the klutz I am.

I heard a soft bang and saw Sera banging her head lightly against the door frame.

"It's a miracle you're still alive," She mutters.

"Well I'm sorry," I replied, standing up, "If I can barely walk in flats let alone 1 ½ inch combat boots," I rubbed my bruised hip, wincing.

Sera sighs heavily and opens the door, leading us to a room with a whiteboard and a few desks.

"Sit," Sera barks.

I sat down, shrinking in my seat.

Geez, Sera is like one of those businesswomen or secret agents that wear heels and miniskirts that somehow make you do whatever they say.

"Now," Sera begins, taking out a dry-erase marker and wrote "Lucid" in big letters. "The dictionary defines lucid as an adjective, meaning 'Being able to see or understand things clearly; completely intelligible; comprehensible; rational; and finally sane."

She wrote the various definitions on the board, writing sane in all caps and with an extra thick marker.

"So?" I replied indifferently. "So," Sera says. "Science defines lucid, as being able to dream vividly. Most people only have a lucid dream once in their life. Others, however, may have several. You and I are genetic mutations."

"Oh," I replied.

"Yes. When the stages of sleep were first observed and studied back in the 1960s and 1970s, lucid dreaming was presumed as a brief arousal from sleep. They said that when one has a lucid dream, they're half-awake and half-asleep. But as the years went on and technology and improved, it was discovered that lucidity is in fact a genetic trait, a protein. The Golgi apparatus has specific instructions in the protein's genetic code to send it to the brain, where the protein sharpens the senses during sleep."

I nodded. "So that's what you meant when Micah asked you who it was passed on from,"

"Exactly," Sera replied. "Now, the body can only make so much of these proteins, so it's very uncommon for the second child of a Lucid parent to receive the trait. The first-born is usually the most likely to receive this trait, if it's present at all in either of the parents. Are you an only child?"

I nodded. "My parents had fertility problems. It took them a good seven, eight years for them to have me." Sera nods, her lips pursed slightly.

I couldn't help but feel like Sera knew something I didn't.

Sera takes her stick and slams it on my desk. "Focus!"

I jumped a little. "I was focusing," I replied.

"Sure you were,"
"I was!" I practically shouted.

"Ariane Whateveryourmiddlenameis van Eeden, if you try and correct me one more time,"

I smiled smugly at her. "I don't have a middle name."

Sera pressed her lips together, blinked several times, took a deep breath, and plastered a smile on her face. Not one of those sweet little smiles, one of those "I'm-gonna-kill-you" smiles. And she had murder in her eyes all right.

I bit my lip. "Continue,"

"Thank you, Ariane," Sera says courteously. "Now, most lucid dreams involve sexual activity," Sera explains.

Whoa.

"Have you had any dirty dreams, Ariane?"

I shook my head furiously.

"Good," Sera chimes. "Now, when I was first testing you for Lucidity, my scanner took to account your respiratory and cardiac rates, which spike while one is experiencing a lucid dream. Which would have supported the half-awake thing, which is useless now ,thank you science,"

I blinked. I hate exercising and running, but Sera was big and intimidating. Not big as in large in size, well actually...

Meh, whatever.

So, I suffered through the rest of that lecture. The pop quiz however caught me off guard.

"You know at school, we've at least studied the subject for a few days. I've just learned this stuff five minutes ago."

"Soooo, you weren't focusing?"

I rolled my eyes and started working on my pop quiz, which I feel like I did pretty well on.

Sera dismissed me and led me to the rec room.

I opened the door and saw Micah socking a punching bag.

"Ah, Azzi. I see you survived Sera Hartmann's School of Torture and Lucidity,"

I sighed heavily. "Yeah,"

"Did she ask you about the dirty dreams?"

I nodded.

Micah sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry,"

I patted myself on the back.

"I know Sera is kinda intimidating at first, but once you get to know her better, she's really nice. She just really breaks in our recruits. She's really passionate about this cause, letting the Lucid be lucid. I mean, it's not anything you can help, Azzi." His thin lips curled into a sly smirk as he looks at my jeans. "It's in your genes,"

I sigh exasperatedly and roll my eyes. "You have got to be kidding me," I mumbled.

Micah wore a smug expression, unnecessarily proud of his pun.

"Can we just start the physical exam?" I inquired impatiently.

"Fine," Micah sighs. "I thought you'd be the kind of girl who appreciated puns,"

I pursed my lips sourly.

"You want to start with laps? Push-ups? Monkey bars? Weapons training?"

Only then did I look around the rec room. The first thing I saw were the monkey bars. They went up about 10 feet, with a thick mattress at the bottom. The bars were rusted a slight teal color.

Behind the monkey bars was an array of weapons. It had everything from swords to bows, guns and maces, spears and slingshots.

Behind me was a running track, laid with mushy material and tar.

In the center were hurdles, javelins, and shot-puts.

"Whoa," I marveled. "You guys don't kid around,"

Micah surveyed the rec room with pride. "No, we don't. Manipulating dreams is cool, but what good does that do? Besides, there have been many an unpleasant nights because of that. If we're going to fight back, we have to learn how to use weapons, escape any situation, and finally how to run like the devil is chasing after us,"

"Which would you suggest we start with?"

Micah pressed his lips together, looking around. "Monkey bars? They're actually pretty fun."

I nodded. "All right,"

Micah seemingly obtained a whistle out of thin air and blew into it. The shrill noise made my ears ring. "C'mon, lady! Hup two! Hup two! Hup!" Micah barks as I jogged to the monkey bars.

I climbed the ladder and stood at the ledge, reaching for the first bar.

I leapt and gripped the rusting bar, cold and rough on my hands.

I swing myself forward and reach, grazing the bar as gravity pulls me down to the mats. I hit the ground hard.

It hurt despite the thick matting. It could've been worse.

"That was pathetic!" Micah heckled.

I shot him a glare.

"Sorry, I thought that would motivate you," Micah replies with a shrug. He grabs a clipboard and starts writing in it. "Bad attitude, minus five points for behavioral disobedience," He mutters as he wrote.

I groan loudly and make the trek back up to the bars.

"Slow down! Pace yourself, Azzi! If you go too fast you'll miss the bar. Plus, when you fall you'll have the little breath you have left knocked out of you," Micah instructs.

I glanced at him and nodded. I swung a little, timing my jump to the next bar.

My hand clanged painfully against the metal bar, the shock resonating through the rusty structure.

I let out a sharp breath and tried to ignore the calluses on my hands.

I thrust myself forward and mistimed by landing.

I landed on my side, hitting my elbow.

I cried out, pins and needles stabbing my funny bone, the pain shooting up and down my arm.

I slowly got to my feet, massaging my reverberating elbow.

"The funny bone?" Micah asks sympathetically.

I nodded.

"Yikes,"

Micah let me rest until the tingling sensation went away. From there, we started on weapons training.

"I can see you with a gun at your hip," Micah says slowly, circling around me. "Maybe an archer. You've got the posture." Micah lifts my right arm, poking the skin. "Nah," He mumbles. "Let's try a gun first," Micah concludes.

Micah walked over to the wall of guns. He plucks a shotgun from the wall. He hands it to me, saying, "Try this."

I take the gun.

Micah puts on a pair of earmuffs and gold colored glasses. "You're gonna need these, too," He says loudly.

I nodded and put on the earmuffs and glasses.

I held the gun out in front of me, aiming at the target about 50 yards away.

"Look down the scope, keep both eyes open." Micah instructs. His voice was muffled. "Stay calm. Don't let your hands shake."

I nodded.

"Deep breaths. Lightly pull the trigger. The kickback is a bit strong, so be careful."

I looked down the barrel, focusing on the target. I let out a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

My hand was jerked back as the shot went off.

I lost my footing and managed to plant my foot firmly on the ground behind me.

I excitedly ran towards the target to see if I had hit it. The target didn't have a scratch on it, but the hole in the wall was going to need some fixing. I sucked in a breath.

"It's all right. Pretty good for your first try." Micah assures me.

"Do you want to try a different weapon?" Micah asks.

"I'd like to try the bow," I replied. Micah nods.

"You sure you can handle it?" He asks, plucking the bow from the wall of weapons. "The average bow can weigh 50 pounds," He warns, handing it to me.

"I won't know if I don't try," I replied.

"OK, I'll get you some arrows and then hide behind the mats so I won't get an arrow in my brain," He hands me a quiver of arrows. He takes my hand and helps me nock the arrow. "Just pull back the string. It's the same thing for guns, deep breaths, both eyes open, stay calm. You can do this, Azzi."

Micah runs and vaults over the mats, ducking behind them. He stands back up. "I believe in you!" He hides again, occasionally peeking.

I shook my head. The boy drives me nuts, but he's all I've got besides Sera.

I struggled to pull back the string. I mustered all my strength to pull back that freaking string.

I must've pulled it back too far because I was jerked back.

I let the arrow fly. It dug into the ceiling. I heard a scream from above.

"Sorry!" I shouted.

"See?! I could've died!" Micah cried, spreading his arms in the direction of the arrow.

I rolled my eyes.

"OK, how about some laps?" Micah suggests.

I looked down at my flimsy Converses and swallowed hard. "How-how many?"

"You'll go through the same training I did. The same training everyone did. You'll have to run until you die," Micah says brightly with a smug grin.

I pouted, stomping pathetically to the track.

OK, I'm just gonna end it here. I'm kinda lazy. I tried to warn you about that pun.