It didn’t take me long to lose track of the time completely. Mr. Flores and his assistants weren’t content to just push us to the breaking point while running; they pushed us beyond.

  We were forced to complete a brutal, never-ending set of exercises. They started with a series of sprints, followed by an obstacle course, then more sprints, then some kind of messed-up exercise where we had to get from one end of the gym to the other while trying to avoid dodgeballs, then more sprints… There were ALWAYS more sprints.

  Olivia actually collapsed at one point, and although one of the teaching assistants did come over and check on her, once they realized she’d collapsed from exhaustion and not some medical condition, they forced her to get back on her feet and continue. I’m not even sure how I managed to stay on my feet and move through it all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, just wanting to get to the end, or maybe it was just that I didn’t want to become the center of attention. Either way, I just grit my teeth and push through.

  Our classmates didn’t seem to have as much trouble as Olivia and I, which gave me hope that this would become easier over time. Right now, though, I just wanted to die.

  The torture was finally interrupted by everyone’s trackers simultaneously going off. I was in the middle of the latest set of sprints, barely managing to stay on my feet, and the sound startled me so badly that I tripped on my own feet and went tumbling across the floor. When I finally rolled to a stop and pushed myself to a sitting position, I noticed that everyone had been too occupied with their own trackers to even see me going down.

  Breathing heavily, I brought my tracker up to my face to see what everyone was staring at. The face of the watch was yellow, and the words ‘Rupture Detected in the Archibald Building. Please avoid the area,’ slowly scrolled across the screen.

  “I keep telling them we don’t need alerts for the shit occurring on the opposite side of the campus, but no one ever listens to me,” Mr. Flores grunted.

  The big man swiped a finger across the display, then glanced at the class. I didn’t miss the fact that his eyes landed on me last, and stayed there for a moment. “Alright, everyone, you all know how much I hate getting interrupted by the minor alerts, and since it’ll take you a couple of minutes to get set up again, let’s cut things here. We’ll pick things up again on Wednesday. Dismissed.”

  As soon as he stopped talking, Olivia staggered over and collapsed right next to me.

  “Why is this happening to us? What have we done to deserve this torture?” she moaned. “How are we supposed to do this three times a week?”

  “We’ll probably get used to it, eventually,” I muttered once my breathing had stabilized. “It seems to be the case for the rest of our class.”

  “That’s what I don’t get,” Olivia huffed. “Back in my old school, there were always one or two kids who participated in Phys. Ed, but never took it seriously, and was out of shape. Why does everyone go so hard here?”

  “Because they don’t want to die,” a voice behind us explained. I hadn’t heard anyone approaching, so I bounced to my feet and took a step back, my legs screaming as I did so. Behind us was a young Latino man who couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than me. He smirked as I backed away. “Nice reflexes.”

  “You’re one of the assistants,” I muttered. “Mr… Ortiz, right?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Correct! I’m surprised you know, since you both missed the introductions,” he replied.

  “I heard one of our classmates say it during one of my rare rest periods,” I explained. “Can we help you with something?”

  “Well, I came over to ask you two to move along, so we could get the area set up for the next class, but I heard your conversation and thought I’d give you my two cents,” the man said. “You wanted to know why everyone is so invested in this class, right? Well, it’s because for many of them it’s a matter of life or death.

  “Ninety percent of the kids that go to this school will be close enough to experience a Rupture once before they leave here, and only about twenty percent of those students will have powers that are even remotely useful in protecting themselves. That means they have two options: run and attempt to evade the invaders. Or die. Most chose to run.”

  Olivia frowned. “Okay, that’s fair, but is pushing people until they collapse from exhaustion really the proper way to train everyone? This can’t be the best way to build muscles.”

  “It’s far from a total workout,” Mr. Ortiz admitted. “But we’re not here to give you a total workout. Let me remind you: this isn’t PE; this is self-defense. We’ll help you develop your speed, stamina, and reflexes to help you clear an affected area. Once a week, we’ll also give you basic lessons with improvised weapons when you’re cornered, for whatever good that’ll do for you.”

  The man offered Olivia a hand, which she took after a moment, and then hauled her to her feet. His eyes flicked between the two of us. “Do you know how many people have survived a Rupture using improvised weapons in the last six months?”

  “I dunno? Five? Six?” Olivia muttered.

  “One. Not only that, but they were the first civilian in about three years to witness a Rupture opening and survive. The bureau is still trying to figure out how that happened,” the man explained.

  When he finished explaining, Olivia’s eyes went wide, and she slowly turned her head towards me.

  “I didn’t know it was such a big deal,” I muttered.

  “Beg your pardon?” Mr. Ortiz asked, confused.

  “I just happened to walk out of a Rupture even a month or so ago, after defending myself with a store shelf,” I explained. “I guess I’m a real anomaly.”

  Mr. Ortiz raised an eyebrow. “Really? Isn’t that something? Did you want me to bring you a shelf on Friday so you could practice for next time? Feel like giving a quick clinic for the rest of the class?”

  My hands twitched, the scars in my palms burned as I stared at the man.

  “No thanks,” I said coldly. “If you actually knew anything about what happened there, you wouldn’t be asking that, even as a joke, or trying to scare us using those statistics.”

  “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “If you want to try and protect yourself with an improvised weapon the next time you encounter a Rupture, go right ahead. You know the survival rate for people within two hundred meters of the smallest Rupture? Ten percent. You got lucky.”

  Even though I knew what he was saying was probably true, the way he delivered the lines made me a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t cold like Flores or some of the other teachers, trying to either scare or convince us to cooperate. No, it sounded more like he was disappointed I didn’t get hurt.

  “You’re probably right,” I snapped, grabbing Olivia and turning towards the locker room. “That’s why I intend to do everything in my power to avoid getting stuck in that situation again.”

  “Good luck with that,” he grunted.

  Olivia and I locked arms as we crossed the gym. We got about halfway across the area before she leaned in close.

  “What the hell was that guy’s problem?” she hissed. “At first, I thought he was just trying to be helpful, but things turned weird when he heard you survived a Rupture.”

  “I have no idea,” I whispered back, “but I think we should do our best to avoid him in the future.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  As we passed Mr. Flores, the man looked us up and down. “Well done today, ladies. I hope you keep up that hustle going forward.”

  “I don’t think we have much of a choice, do we?” Olivia grumbled.

  The man smiled briefly, the first genuine smile I’d ever seen cross his face. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “No, you do not. Be careful on your way home.”

  When he stormed past, I glanced over my shoulder. He was marching towards Ortiz, and he didn’t look happy. Although it was unlikely, I really hoped it meant we wouldn’t see the creep again.

  Amelia met us at the locker room, holding the door open for us, and my friends were inside.

  “So,” Amelia said as we passed her. “How was your first day?”

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