Jack ran toward a rifle range. A number of rifles lay chained to a table. Beyond the table stood a line of targets, each one further away, at two hundred-meter intervals.
Crippin stood to one side of the table, a small case of ammunition at her side. She handed out magazines to each recruit.
“You have five shots, hayseeds. Hit your targets or I’ll have Sergeant Hacker hit you. The military doesn’t have bullets for you to waste on poor shooting. We have got to save all our ammunition for killing the damn Chitin scum. Hit your targets.”
Jack snatched up a rifle. It was lighter than it looked. It was formed from the same composite as the hull of a spacecraft. Jack looked down the sights to the first target. The telescopic effect of the rifle sight made the target appear within arm’s reach. The furthest appeared a mere stone’s throw away.
“Load your weapon, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “You are not here to enjoy the scenery, though I know it is a beautiful sight. This is where we turn hayseeds into Chitin killers. Load your weapon.”
The weapon was simple by design. It was easy to understand and easy to use. The place where the ammunition was to be inserted was clearly marked. Jack rammed the magazine home and took aim.
The rifle kick was enormous. It powered back into Jack’s shoulder. The force pushed Jack backwards through the dirt. He recovered himself and looked down the sight at his target. He’d hit the bullseye.
“Good first shot, hayseed. But there will be more than one Chitin out there for you to kill.”
Jack fired his next shot at the target four hundred meters away. Another bullseye.
As Jack was sighting the next target, a recruit came running up to the range. Jack heard the panting of someone running hard. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, someone bumped into him. His finger touched the trigger and the rifle fired. It slammed awkwardly into his shoulder. The rifle was not sitting true when it fired and the butt of the rifle sent a sudden jolt of pain shooting through Jack’s shoulder. Jack looked to see who had bumped into him. He looked over to the grinning, grubby face of Torent.
“I’ll show you how to shoot, Forge,” Torent said. He quickly loaded his rifle, sighted his target, and pulled the trigger, all in an instant.
“Bullseye, hayseed.” Crippin was looking down range through her small set of binoculars.
Torent looked at Jack and grinned. He fired his remaining shots in quick succession, then dropped the weapon and was off running.
Jack took aim at the next target. He fired his shot.
“Another bull, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “You missed one. Don’t miss another. We haven’t got spare ammunition for you to miss, hayseed.”
Jack took careful aim at the next target. Even through the sights, it appeared distant. A strong heat haze made the target wobble. Jack relaxed and fired.
“No bull,” Crippin said, “but at least you hit the target. If that had been a Chitin’s massive head, you would have hit it alright.”
A group of recruits came panting and puffing to the table with the rifles. In a moment, every rifle was taken and shots were being fired every couple of seconds.
Bill Harts came up to the table and grabbed the rifle next to Jack. He loaded, took aim, and fired. “Missed,” he said.
“Just relax,” Jack said. “Take aim. Breathe in. And then fire.”
Bill took aim again. His response told Jack what he needed to know. Bill had missed again.
“Take a bit more time to get your sights in. Relax. Don’t jerk the rifle when you fire.”
“Concentrate on your own targets, hayseed,” Crippin shouted. “If we need rifle training officers here, we will request them from the military command. But they won’t be sending us any. All soldiers who can shoot are out there killing Chitins.”
Jack heard the familiar buzz of Hacker’s tazer close by. He put the noise out of his mind and took aim. Jack completed his rounds and recorded three bulls. If it wasn’t for Torent, he would have had a clean sweep. Jack dropped his rifle and ran off, determined to catch and overtake Sam Torent.
The extra gravity on the small moon started to take its toll. Jack saw Torent up ahead. He looked to be struggling too. He glanced over his shoulder. Jack saw him put his head down and put in an effort to run harder when he saw Jack was catching him.
Another few minutes and Jack was coming level with Torent. Jack kept his eyes on the path ahead. The next obstacle was only a few strides ahead. He pulled away from Torent easily and approached the obstacle.
Barbed wire was strung across the path, leaving a small gap underneath. The ground was littered with sharp rock fragments the size of Jack’s fist. A sign on either side of the path warned of live gunfire. Jack saw the automatic gun battery on one side of the obstacle. Jack dropped to the ground and began crawling.
The barbed wire was low but gave Jack enough room. He picked his way around the sharp rocks, taking care not to hurt his arms as he crawled along. This was not as tough as it first looked. And then the gunfire started.
The guns fired a two-second burst. The bullets tore through the air and made a strange fizzing sound as the air around the bullets boiled. The bullets thumped into the dirt mound on the opposite side. Jack stopped crawling and pressed himself to the ground. He felt trapped by the wire above him. Running was one thing, firing a rifle was exciting, but this? Being shot at with rapid fire automatic weapons was terrifying. And then the whole experience started to feel like a horrible dream. He should be back in university. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. This had been a huge mistake. Just on the point of getting to his feet and declaring the whole thing a huge mistake, another burst of gunfire erupted.
Torent scurried past Jack. The gun spat out one short burst after another and while Jack pressed himself closer to the ground, trying desperately to get away from the terrifying sounds of bullets above him. Then he saw Torent look back as he got to the other side of the wire.
Seeing the smirk on Torent’s face as he looked back through the wire spurred Jack into action. He started moving again and picked his way gingerly through the rocks and flinched at every crack from the huge automated weapon. Other recruits were making it to the wire and Jack heard their voices ranging from worry to fear, and then he heard the shouts from Lieutenant Crippin and the zaps from Sergeant Hacker’s tazer. The sounds of worry and fear turned to yelps of pain and cries of distress as the recruits were forced to move forward.
Jack reached the end of the wire with cuts on his hands and a huge gash on his elbow where he’d caught the sharp point of a rock. Torent was running but struggling. Jack knew he could catch him.
Jack judged the distance to Torent and paced himself. And then further up ahead, Jack saw Crippin sitting on her buggy. It looked like a finish line. Jack had been running and crawling and dodging bullets for several hours. He was sure it was time for a break. Crippin was pushing them all to breaking point, but Jack was sure she didn’t want to actually break them. Recruits were not easy to find.
Jack spotted the small pile of silver ration bars and water cooler on a trailer hooked up to Crippin’s buggy. It was either a cruel joke or it was time for a rest. Jack decided to be optimistic. He decided Crippin was going to let them rest. But before he could rest, he had to beat Torent to the finish.
Jack put his head down and gave it everything. No point leaving anything out on the course when he could burn all his reserve and beat Torent. Jack would show that thief. Jack was going to steal first place from him.
Jack’s legs burned. They wobbled. He pressed on. He kept upright by strength of will. He would win. He looked up to check his progress. Torent had slowed to a walk but was still moving forward, and he was still ahead. Jack put his head down and ran. He would pass Torent with a hundred meters to spare.