Page 7 of Monsters within Men
“I am the only superior you’re going to get access to, Bates,” he snapped with as much force as he could muster. “And you will address me as sir.” It had the desired effect: the recruit’s mouth dropped open before slamming shut again. He continued to stare openly at Noah, like he was waiting for a different answer.
Francesca Fleming stepped forward. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Frankie.” She offered out her hand and Noah shook it.
“Follow me, please.” Noah started walking, praying they would follow with no argument.
The pair trailed after him as he led them out of the garage and through the many winding paths that would lead to the admin office, which adjoined the small hospital.
Repeatedly glancing back to verify their continued presence, he observed Zeke Bates, his gaze locked on the ground, kicking up dirt as he walked.
In contrast, Frankie held her head up, eyes darting around, absorbing all of her surroundings. “So, Zeke and I are staying together?” she asked, as they made their last turn. “Sir,” she added.
Noah wanted to kick himself. What on earth possessed him to tell them to address him as sir outside of the field? His team were going to tear him apart laughing at him tomorrow. Other lieutenants ran their squads more formally, but Noah had adopted a relaxed approach to the hierarchical system. It often earned him some raised eyebrows from the other lieutenants.
“You’re both joining Squad E. We’re a direct combat unit. There are seven others you’ll meet tomorrow.”
“Great!” said Frankie. At leastshewas being enthusiastic. Her high energy meant she’d fit in perfectly with the rest of the squad. “Where are you from, sir? South America?”
Noah locked eyes with her, surprised. He’d been fluent in English for so long it always surprised him when people identified the trace of his accent immediately. “My mother was born in Brazil. But I’m from the Netherlands, originally. I was one of the last out when Rotterdam fell five years ago.”
“Wow. Sorry. That must have been tough.”
Understatement of the century.“It seems like a lifetime ago now.”
Martha was the administrator on duty for on-boarding that night, and she made quick work of ushering them through when they arrived at reception. He apologised for the late hour, which earned them all a biscuit from a secret tin under her desk.
It took being asked three times for Zeke to hand over all his electronic devices to be stored in the locker room. Frankie resorted to ripping his electronic wristband from his arm and going through his pockets while Noah rummaged through his bag. At first, it seemed like all Zeke brought were three books and some underwear, until something bright orange tumbled to the ground. It was a small soft toy—a fox with a fluffy tail and big round eyes that seemed to gaze at Noah with love and affection. Several patches of worn-out fur showed its age.
Patches of red spread over Zeke’s face and neck like spilt ink as he snatched the toy out of Noah’s hand and stuffed it back into his bag. “It’s special to me,” he mumbled, not meeting Noah’s eye.
Before Noah had time to reply, Martha was trying to remove Zeke’s glasses and Zeke was shouting, “Hey!” and batting her hand away. “They’re prescription!” he snapped, and Martha crinkled her eyebrows.
“Non-electronic?”
“Yes,” he replied. When Martha raised her eyebrow, Zeke removed his glasses and passed them to her. After careful inspection, she handed them back.
“You’ll probably want to wear contacts here. Or talk to a doctor about sorting your eyesight,” Noah said.
Zeke fixed his eyes on an empty spot on the opposite wall, gripping the side of the chair until his knuckles went white.
“I’m going to insert your microchips now,” Martha said, pushing Frankie’s sleeve up and wiping her arm with an antiseptic cloth. When she picked up a small scalpel, Zeke catapulted out of his chair. Frankie’s head snapped towards him, her braids whipping around her face.
“S-sorry,” Zeke stammered. “I’m not great with blood.”
Well, that’s just fucking perfect.
Martha looked like she was trying to suppress a laugh. She turned back to Frankie, who barely blinked as Martha made a small incision and inserted the minuscule rice-shaped chip.
“You’re up, Bates,” Martha said, forcing Zeke to turn away from the wall. He slumped back in his chair, looking pale.
Frankie laughed. “Shall I hold your hand?”
Zeke grimaced through the entire procedure, squeezing his eyes shut until Martha told him it was over.
“Fantastic. Your IDs have been reclassified and assigned to these.” Martha passed them new wristbands—the generic expanding screen style issued to every military personnel. “Read and sign here, please.” Martha offered them a small, black fingerprint scanner, connected to a screen displaying a document in a tiny font. Frankie skimmed through it and pressed her index finger onto the scanner. Zeke set out reading it properly before swiftly giving up, scrolling to the bottom and jamming his finger into the machine like he was trying to break it.
“You should read that first,” Noah said.
“What’s the point?”
