Chapter 8 - The Course After
The rope obstacle stayed closed for two days. Mercer was removed from evaluation duties pending investigation. By the end of the week, two other trainees reported altered equipment, missing gear, and threats disguised as corrective instruction. Hanley admitted she had almost quit after being assigned the same compromised lane twice. Diaz confessed he had laughed because he was afraid Mercer would turn on him next.
I understood that fear.
I did not absolve it.
Those are different things.
Captain Whitaker called me in later and asked why I had not reported Mercer earlier. I told her the truth.
“I did not have proof.”
She leaned back. “And now?”
“Now he gave me witnesses.”
A faint smile touched her mouth before she hid it.
The next time I stepped onto the course, the rope had been replaced. The anchors were checked in front of everyone. The safety inspector stood nearby. The formation was quiet, but not mocking this time. Private Hanley was in the second row again, shoulders squared, eyes forward.
I climbed first.
Not to show off.
To reset the place where Mercer thought he had marked me.
At the top, wind moved through the ropes, dry and hot. The dirt yard stretched below. Soldiers watched. Somewhere in the distance, boots struck gravel in rhythm.
I descended cleanly, landed, and stepped aside.
Hanley went next.
She climbed slowly at first, then stronger. When she reached the top, the formation did not laugh.
They clapped once. Then twice. Then together.
I looked toward the empty space where Mercer used to stand.
He had rigged the course to prove I did not belong.
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But all he really proved was that the obstacle was never the rope.
It was him.
