01.061 Grind

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Aqrabuamelu compound, Flushing, Queens, New York, United States

The next day Ella crawled out of bed to head to class. Through some creative scheduling and a permissive advisor, she had condensed her classes down to a couple of days a week. In theory she was pursuing an independent study the other days. Well, that bill would come due later.

She got in the subway and managed to grab a seat. Her healing seemed to have hit its limits. Her legs were sore, the blisters on her hands were still open and one was oozing still - apparently magic insect people did not believe in band-aids so she added that to her cart. She had brought her regular stash but seemed like it would be depleted quickly.

She dozed during the classes and got caught out once. When she ate, she had a double portion to up her energy and sucked down more coffee than was probably wise. Then the train back and another run with Zaidu. This time through the high snow with packs. She still outperformed the others which just made him more pissed.

Her hands blistered again in slightly different spots as she shifted her grip trying to avoid exacerbating her current wounds.

She ended up cleaning the bathrooms on her hands and knees with rags and a toothbrush when she failed to follow instructions quick enough. After Zaidu had taken a messy shit.

That night she cried herself to sleep in the bunk bed.

Every day was the same. The others got instruction, she did not. When the others were doing their catechisms and lessons in faith she tuned out since it was in ancient Sumerian. After hours Adra and Davcina both would help her with what they could, but the traditional weapons they had taken up were too different. Adra had a battle axe. Davcina, two long knives. Etana, what he called a bastard sword. Tauthe had a spear, but length aside, the sword portion of Ella’s weapon didn’t let her use the same grip. At least Davcina had two long knives so Ella got increasingly good with her dagger.

The others tried to help where they could and were punished for it. Ella continued to outperform in her conditioning. Even Zaidu gave up when he had them carrying cement blocks overhead in the snow and she finished first. He had the others strip nude and stand in the snow as punishment, and Ella joined them. She refused to let him drive that wedge in there.

The Aqramuabelu kept to five days of training and two days off. Ella just kept counting down until the weekend.

On Friday she got sent home from her classes because she looked terrible with her sunken eyes and gaunt looking face.

She gratefully sunk into the bed Friday night and slept for fourteen hours straight. And woke up hungry for the first time since she started.

Something had to change.

The week only got worse.

Zaidu found out that she hadn’t been eating in the canteen and said she would either eat what an Aqramuabelu would eat or she would starve and smashed all her food on the ground. This, at least, the others helped her with by pointing out those foods that did not consist of fallen enemies and other things she would rather not eat.

When Bahu came to her saying her weekends would be taken learning Sumerian and theology, Ella broke down and fell to her knees crying.

She stood across from Bahu and looked down at the live weapon she held. The one Tabir had given her.

Bahu held a simple wood pole.

“You are awful. Truly, truly terrible.” Bahu said, musing.

Ella said nothing. She had nothing to say.

“I don’t doubt that Zaidu has been skipping teaching you, you would at least know how to hold it.”

Ella’s one attempt at looking up videos on how to use this weapon had been completely pointless.

“I cannot take you away from Zaidu. If you are to train as one of us, then you need to be one of us. Hmmm.”

“Let me think on it. Bear with it, I will figure something out.”

At the end of the week they began firearms training.

Zaidu took them to an indoor range down another long series of tunnels. He handed them each a handgun and asked them to get used to the feel and weight.

Ella checked the chamber first. It was loaded. Shame on Zaidu for not warning them. And then she saw that the others did not have loaded weapons.

She emptied the chamber and popped the magazine. Then she noticed the gun was in bad shape. Not maintained at all. She went over to a nearby table and started stripping down her weapon for maintenance.

“Human, tell them what you are doing.”

Human? That was a step up from vermin. Maybe.

“The first thing you do when handed a firearm is assume it is loaded. You handed me a weapon with a round in there chamber but empty mag. So I checked the safety, cleared the chamber, and removed the mag as so.” She demonstrated each step.

“Then I noted the handgun was not maintained. So I am stripping it to clean it, oil it, and see if it can be made serviceable. Given the shape of what I can see, this gun wouldn’t be trustworthy without a full disassembly, inspection, and maintenance.”

She went on, “It is a Glock 17, striker fired. And it comes apart like…” Ella had to think back to the one time she had seen it, “this.” She dismantled it and proceeded to clean it and reassemble it. She pointed it downrange and dry fired it several times to feel the action.

“I think it is okay to shoot now. Someone failed to clean it out after their last shooting session and then dragged it through a lot of dirt. They should probably be punished.” Ella said absentmindedly. And then remembered where she was and that Zaidu had probably done this on purpose to screw her over.

But fuck him, so she repeated a “they should be punished, sir!”

“Very good human. Now run suicides for 10 minutes from here to there for forgetting the sir the first time.”

Ella muffled her sigh and put the handgun down carefully. Then started her sprints, and was surprised when the others went with her.

After 10 minutes they were all on the floor gasping.

“Get up! Let’s get to shooting.”