The next day, a bang at the door jolts me awake. Still half-lost in my dream, I grab the nearest weapon I can find (my pillow) and tiptoe to the apartment door. The banging continues until the lock clicks open from the outside. The door wooshes open to reveal Daniel, dressed hastily in a crumpled t-shirt and pajama bottoms that threaten to slide down to his ankles.

"Really?" Daniel taunts, a smile playing on his lips. "Who did you think came for you? The boogie-man?"

I tuck my pillow under my arm. "No, I was just..." I say, clearing my throat.

"Well, training starts in an hour, so meet me outside this building at 8:45." He blinks and scans me up and down with his eyes while I give him a defensive look. With that, Daniel slams the door in my face, leaving me wondering how he got a key to my room.

I sigh loudly, throwing my pillow on the floor and making my bed. I gather some workout clothes from the closet, resisting the urge to go crawl under the sheets. Before I leave, I check my reflection in the mirror: long ponytail, comfy green t-shirt, and athletic shorts. While observing myself, I notice one peculiar thing about my outfit: my shorts have belt loops.

I soon meet my family in the cafeteria. After a quick breakfast of two thick biscuits, a banana, and some milk, I go back to the apartment building to wait for Daniel. I lean against the building, sweat building under my pores. Pure blue sky, luscious greenery, and intense humidity. I hope this training program isn't too rigorous.

A laugh come from the building, and I turn towards the source. Right in front of my face, a nurse kisses Daniel. What the heck? As soon as he pulls away from the make-out session, the guards tell them to move away from the doors. Daniel kisses the girl goodbye, and she crosses the lawn with a lovestruck stumble, brown hair blowing in the wind.

I watch Daniel admire the girl from a distance. I hold back a snort and decide to go in for the kill. Scootching closer to him, a sarcastic line pops in my head.

"Is she the real Juliette?" I ask.

Daniel keeps his eyes on his girlfriend in the distance. "Sure, why not? I have a new one every couple months or so."

"Ugh." I say with a grimace. I can tell I am getting under Daniel's skin.

"At least I can get people to like me," Daniel retorts, turning his eyes to me. "All you do is piss people off."

I cross my arms. "No, I only piss you off."

"Whatever," he says. With that, Daniel leads me across the grounds to a flat building near the coastline. The salty air fills my lungs as blue water laps the white sand. Dense trees and brush hug the coastline, creating a picture-perfect view.

"Quit drooling," Daniel says. He wakes me from my trance and lightly shoves me in the direction of the building. He curls a finger from him to me, saying, "This way."

With a grumble, I follow him down a winding path and concrete stairs to the entrance of a facility. Daniel greets the guards and pushes open the door to reveal a simple lobby. He leads me directly across the room and through another set of doors. Inside is a dark, grim-looking room filled with workout equipment and weaponry. There are about a hundred people in the room, already exercising on workout equipment and practicing various climbing drills.

I spot a set of doors opening to my right, and a full shooting range is revealed. Tons of people aim guns, bows, and knives at targets. The base camp must be creating fighters. A large gunshot fires nearby, and I jump as Daniel laughs.

Feeling out of my element, I keep closer to Daniel than I usually would. "Not what you were expecting, eh?" asks Daniel.

"I can't shoot a gun if that's what you mean," I reply, watching a girl aim at a target.

"You'll learn soon. Today, we're just going to run some laps and lift weights."

I rip my eyes off of the targets, whipping my head towards Daniel. "Wait, you're going to be training me?"

He glares at me. "Unless you'd rather be deported back to the States?"

I don't say anything.

Looking around the room, Daniel puffs out a breath of air. "Let's head outside and start running."

Slightly annoyed, I follow Daniel outside to the beach. He strips off his shoes and leaves them near the door we came out. Confused, I follow suit, and then we begin our run along the beach. After a few minutes of running, I realize that this is much more difficult than I originally thought.

For the first five minutes, I keep pace with Daniel, but soon, I am trailing far behind him. Not once do I stop and take a break because I don't want to give up so quickly.

Running near the water's cool edge helps alleviate some of the heat, but my clothes are too sticky and my face is too sweaty. My feet sink into the wet sand, and pulling them out is like lifting cement blocks with your ankles. On top of that, the rays of sun burn my skin.

I pant and gasp for humid air as sharp side stitches knife themselves into my waist. I barely push through the fatigue, and by the time I catch up with Daniel, he's already finished drinking two bottles of water.

I collapse on the wet sand at Daniel's feet, ready to vomit and barely able to swallow. My whole body fries in the heat and marinates in the humidity.

"Don't get too comfortable," Daniel laughs after a minute. He waves a bottle of water in front of me, and I weakly sit up to grab it, my head spinning. Daniel pulls the bottle from my reach and launches it into the ocean. "Go get it, sweetheart."

I look at him in disgust, but I desperately need the water. I know how to swim, but I doubt I can do it well. "Jerk," I exhale as I stumble towards the shore on my buckling legs. I wade thigh-deep into the water, concentrating on keeping my balance.

A wave hits my stomach, and salty water splashes me in the face, causing me to lose balance and fall. I catch Daniel's laugh from the shore, but I don't have enough energy to turn around and scowl at him. After searching for the water bottle and spotting it, I dive under the surface of the water and begin to swim.

My arms and legs sink like anchors rather than paddling like oars. After I spend an eternity flopping my dead weight through the waves, I spit out a mouthful of salt water and nab the bottle. Just as the plastic meets my touch, a wave forms in the near distance.

I paddle back to shore, gasping for breath. The wave behind me grows in height until finally crashing. Within seconds, I descend under water to avoid the ripple. I manage to make it back to the surface without my lungs exploding, so I float for a while and catch my breath.

Once I reach the tidal area, I throw myself onto the wet sand and rip open the water, pacing my swallows of water in between gasps. I hate it here.

Daniel waltzes over to me and sits down on the wet sand with a sigh.

"Get used to that, Cummins, because this is the easy part," he says as a small wave rolls over my toes. I don't even have enough energy to blink at him.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

After four weeks of training with Daniel, I'm not on the verge of fainting after workouts anymore. Every day, Daniel puts me through a different drill, yet I grow less tired or sore after I do them. Today is the day I have to complete my obstacle course test. If my time is under two minutes, I get to move on to weaponry training.

I don't really know how I feel about holding a weapon as a Renegade. On the one hand, I can't bear the thought. On the other, I haven't seen any evidence of Renegadea infection of anyone here. No tempers. No craziness. No violence.

Instead of meeting outside our apartment building, Daniel and I meet in the lobby of the training building. When Daniel walks in the door, he runs a hand through his blond hair instead of saying "hi" to me. As if he has more important things to do.

I mumble sarcastic comments to his back as I jog over to him. He leads me to an unoccupied training room, and instead of having exercise equipment, the space has an cylindrical rock climbing wall. Daniel points to the starting line, and I stride of my spot behind the strip of paint. The wall glares at me as I bounce on my toes.

Daniel calls over his shoulder as he walks through the course. "Here are the requirements: three pull-ups, ten push-ups, and climb the rock wall. Ring the bell at the top to stop the clock."

I nod. This will be way too easy.

"Good luck, darling. You have two minutes," Daniel smirks before counting down from three.

I roll my eyes, earning a snide comment from him. He calls, "go," and I sprint across the room. I leap onto the metal bar and complete three pull-ups without hesitation. Dropping to the floor, I struggle a bit with the ten push-ups. Yet I complete both tasks, saving plenty of time to tackle the wall. Two down, one to go.

I race over to the rock wall and begin to climb, my arm muscles buzzing. The rocks get farther apart the higher I climb, but climbing is easy for me, at least until I look down.

There's no ropes securing me to the wall, so if I fall, I either die or break my entire body. "Fourty seconds," Daniel reminds me from the ground.

I place my right hand onto another rock and continue climbing. Foot, hand, foot, hand. I keep a steady pattern of movement until I'm near the top. I climb up onto one last rock and reach for a small rope connected to the bell. My right hand is so close to reaching it, but not close enough. I groan, climb up a bit higher, and then my left foot slips.

"Whoa," I call out, my shoe sliding off my foot. I somehow manage to stay on the wall and watch the shoe hit the floor. I turn away, pressing my forehead to the wall. That shoes could have been my body.

Daniel laughs, unconcerned. "15 seconds."

I look to the top of the wall again and slowly pull myself higher, ignoring the height. I can't quit now; I'm too close to the bell. I boost myself one rock higher and reach for the bell again, shaking the rope attached to it. I ring the bell just as Daniel calls "time" from below. Relief floods over me as I grin into the wall, regretting my glance at the ground.

"Now how do I get down?" I call, trying not to move. A tiny part of my mind wants me to jump to my death for some reason. Gravity feels the same way.

"There's a rope right next to you, stupid," Daniel yells.

I look to my left and see a rope that extends to the ground. I reach for it, careful not to upset my balance. Hoisting myself onto the rope, I slide to the ground, palms free of brush burns.

"One minute and 59 seconds. Not bad for a twig like you."

"Shut up," I tell Daniel. I lean against the rock wall and relax my breathing. Daniel pulls out a loaded belt from a bag I failed to notice at his feet. He hands the belt to me, and I skim my fingers over the handles sticking out of the holster. Curious, I pull at the handle, revealing a shiny blade. I flip it around, looking up from the knife.

"I hope you're comfortable with knives," Daniel taunts me. I scoff. He thinks I can't handle this.

I grin to myself as I undo all of the holsters on the belt. I slide the belt through the belt loops on my mesh shorts, and I re-fasten the knife holsters onto each of my hips.

I smile at Daniel, armed with weapons I can't wait to learn how to use. "Don't worry, Romeo. I'm ready for this."

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

lol, i am still laughing at the "handle" pun (did you spot it?). i could kick myself for that; let me know if you enjoy my accidental use of puns in dystopian scifi.

but seriously, i spent countless minutes on youtube and googling "do water bottles float in the ocean?"

*inserts pun*