The training for the Protection Forces was more intense than I’d been lead to believe. It was still only a third of the day but by the end of it I was always exhausted. Every super had their training tailored somewhat to their abilities so mine were, quite naturally, primarily about strength and endurance. Running at a normal person’s speed was easy and I could do it all day. Running at the limit of my enhanced body was another thing altogether. They had me and some of the slower speedsters racing one another, often over uneven ground, and the number of times I tripped and then plowed into the ground at breakneck speed was not a number I wished to keep track of. Pretty soon I was keeping pace with cars moving at highway speeds over smooth ground, and not much slower over rough terrain. Besides the running, they were pushing my strength to the limit by having me haul around massive blocks of solid metal. It was difficult to find anything that was a challenge for me but those in charge here were up for the challenge. Burrowing through solid stone with my bare hands was another common task they had me engage in and there was talk of bringing in a decommissioned navy vessel like an old destroyer and having me tow it around on the ground.

All the while I kept hoping my dad would call, but no such thing happened. Sure, I could call him, and perhaps he was just waiting for me, but somehow I never got up the courage to do it during my time off. Most of that time was spent sleeping or eating anyway.

My fifth Saturday there started out normally. Since I was still a minor I got a few extra privileges, like weekends off. I got up, got ready for the day, and was about to go down for breakfast when I changed my mind and went out for a walk instead. The grounds here were in stark contrast to the forested island of the Cain Center. Here, volcanic rock and scrub brush made up the majority of the landscape. It was beautiful, in its own way, but meant that not many people elected to come out here unless they had to. It was cold and the wind was often whipping around, throwing dust into your eyes. Today a thin flurry of snow was beginning to fall.

On the far side of the compound were the training grounds and I could hear occasional voices rising up as orders were shouted. I was free to roam pretty much anywhere I pleased so long as I could still see the compound. There wasn’t anything else around for hundreds of miles, or so we were told, so getting lost out there would be an issue. Presumably there was a parameter fence somewhere out there that we’d eventually run into.

As I walked, I kicked a few rocks around, practicing controlling my strength and only kicking the rocks a few feet at a time. Then I picked one up, careful not to crush it, and oriented myself south. I’d been told that there was nothing in that direction, all the way to the ocean. I threw the rock as hard as I could. The air cracked and boomed as my arm whipped around and the stone flew through the air. It didn’t make it very far, all things considered. It broke up into tiny fragments and powder before it got more than a few feet from me.

Not many materials were tough enough to withstand that kind of acceleration as well as the wind resistance. Breaking the sound barrier was rough on most things. I picked up another stone and threw it more gently. It easily sailed out of sight. A good part of my training was on learning to recognize different materials so I could know how much force I could put on them before they broke. That was important for me, offensively, since more conventional weapons were difficult for me to use without breaking them.

I heard a faint pop and felt a slight bump against the side of my head. I turned towards the firing range and waved. A sniper waved back. I’d forgotten that I was still wearing my jacket that identified me as a viable target for anyone at the firing range. I began to dodge from side to side to give them something harder to aim for. I heard another pop but no bullet struck me. I moved closer towards them, picking up speed. Another pop and another miss. I was getting closer, close enough that I could make out their expression. A trainer was standing not too far away and they backed up a few paces.

The sniper’s eyes widened and rather than fire off a third and final shot, they tossed a grenade at me. Technically my jacket signified that minor explosives like grenades were allowed but that was still considered a bit rude since it could damage clothing and personal items like cell phones that would need to be replaced. Both the sniper and the instructor ducked behind a nearby berm. The grenade landed right in front of me and without pausing I stomped down hard on it shattering the grenade before it could detonate and thus defusing it. Without losing stride I rounded the berm.

The sniper was crouched, still waiting for the grenade to go off. With extreme care, I placed my hand on his helmet.

“I got you,” I said.

He flinched, looked up at me with recognition, and then cursed.

“Sorry about the grenade,” he muttered. “I panicked when I realized it was you.”

I nodded and withdrew my hand.

“Your first shot was clean though. Right above my ear.”

He grinned and the instructor nodded with approval before pulling out a walkie talkie and speaking into it.

“This is the firing range,” they said, “we’ve completed our westward firing, that direction is now clear. Over.”

“Copy that, westward firing from the firing range has ceased. Results? Over.”

“Private Bogen was unsuccessful. Over.”

“Copy that.”

I left them to return to their usual training of shooting targets. As I walked, I took off my jacket and slung it over my arm. It was chilly out but not so bad that I really needed the coat. It was more out of habit that I wore it, really. A part of my overall toughness was a high resistance to both cold and hot extremes. I could feel the temperature difference, but they weren’t uncomfortable.

My cellphone buzzed a few minutes into my walk. I pulled it from my pocket and saw a message from Captain Hill who oversaw a lot of the fliers and other Air Force adjacent supers.

‘That you West of firing range?’ his text read

I sighed heavily, knowing what this was likely about.

‘Yes’ I replied.

‘Keep running West. Incoming trainees. Do not return fire. Avoidance only.’

I wasn’t in the mood for being target practice again but I couldn’t just say no so instead I sent him an affirmative, put my jacket back on, and started running, keeping a look out all the time for wherever these supers were coming from.

In general, most supers had only one power. That wasn’t true of the supers here. Among the Protection Forces, it was uncommon to have fewer than three powers. Another commonality among the supers here was that at least one of those powers tended to be highly offensive in its application. As I spied to first group of fliers coming in from the South I turned and began running perpendicular to them. Chances were there was another group of fliers to the North and they were hoping to catch me in a pincer maneuver.

It’s difficult to gauge speeds of distant objects but I knew most fliers here could go faster than me, especially when I was moving over uneven ground. I couldn’t keep looking at the fliers either since I needed to keep an eye on where I was going so I didn’t trip.

One of the fliers began to glow and I dove to the side, rolling and tumbling as the ground where I’d been exploded. I knew that super and wasn’t about to forget what happened last time they were pursuing me. My hand was grabbing at stones instinctively but I caught myself before I threw anything at the fliers. Instead, I pounded both of my fists into the ground, throwing up a huge plume of dust. They’d have a hard time seeing me through that and it gave me an opportunity to sprint away from my position, this time moving towards them.

They flew right over me as I came out of the dust cloud. Some of them could change direction fast enough to track me but most had to swerve in wide arcs to come back around. In the mean time, I pointed a finger at them each in turn, pretending I had a gun. I’m not sure if any of them noticed but it made me feel like I was winning.

The more agile fliers were already coming back at me and one of them was carrying a machine gun. The ground around me began to pop with bullets and I swerved right and then back to the left. I felt a few bullets hit me but considering the amount of rounds they were showering down on me I was pleased with how few found their mark.

I still hadn’t spotted any other fliers besides this initial group but I wasn’t letting that lull me into a false sense of security. It was possible they were trying to steer me into a trap so I kept changing directions, refusing to go in any one way for very long. The result was that I was staying in relatively the same spot, also not great in case they called in mortars or something, but we were close enough to base that I doubted heavy ordinances would be used.

A dust cloud began to develop on the horizon. It was moving fast and in my direction. There were a few fliers who could break the sound barrier and one of their key ways of attacking was to simply fly by and let the sonic boom disorient their target while other fliers attacked from above. There was no outrunning them this time so instead I punched the ground once more, throwing up my own dust cloud, only this time I didn’t stop there. I kept hitting the ground, blasting out a hole until it was big enough for me to fit into. Then I began to dig. I burrowed through the earth at a normal person’s running speed, cutting away from where I’d been. Even when I heard the sonic boom from overhead, muffled by the earth, I didn’t stop.

The earth around me shook as they attacked the ground but without knowing where I’d gone, exactly, they had little hope of hitting me. At last, after I’d dug for several hundred meters, I dug my way back up to the surface. As soon as my hand broke through, I stopped and used the tiny hole to scope out the surroundings. The fliers were spread out, searching for me. I couldn’t tell who was who since they all wore the same uniforms, but the supersonic flier had on a special helmet and air tank since they can’t breath normally when moving that fast.

If they couldn’t find me then I won, otherwise we would resume the chase once more. They kept attacking the ground but that really was like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. Finally, after several minutes, an air horn sounded and the fliers all gathered up before coming to land on the ground.

“Alright, come out,” Captain Hill shouted.

I pushed my way out of the ground a few dozen meters away and walked over to join them.

“How’d they do?” he asked.

“I got pepper by a few bullets,” I said, taking off my jacket and pointing out the three holes I could find.

“And how did you lot feel about your efforts?” he turned to the assembled fliers.

None of them seemed to want to speak up so he pointed to the supersonic flier.

“Why’d you miss her?” he asked.

“She dug into the ground before I could reach her.”

“And why’d you give her time to notice you and get away?”

“I can’t turn when I’m going that fast,” the super replied. “and it takes me a bit to get up to supersonic speeds.”

“So why didn’t the rest of you distract her so your ally could get in his attack?”

More uncomfortable looks.

“We had her on the run, though,” one of them finally spoke up.

Captain Hill turned on that super and grinned. I hated it when Captain Hill grinned like that because it meant a healer was going to be needed soon.

“On the run?” Captain Hill asked before turning to me. “Did you feel as though you were on the run? Nowhere to go?”

“I was told to run so I ran, Captain Hill.”

Since I was new and a minor, they were more relaxed around me as far as protocol and formalities were concerned but I was trying to get it right. Only then did I remember that I needed to be standing at attention and I hurried to correct my posture.

“Well,” Captain Hill turned back to the fliers, “since you were all doing so good at having her on the run, lets see how you do without my second bit of instruction to Private First Class Nayak here, that is that she wasn’t allowed to fight back.” He turned to me once more. “Private, take them down.”

With that he flew into the air. I hated this bit but knew it had to be done. Without missing a beat, I kicked the ground in front of me, sending a wave of dirt and rock into the gathered fliers. Some of the rocks were big enough to deal real damage and a third of the fliers went down to that initial attack. I knew the supersonic flier would be the hardest one to take down if he got air born so I scooped up a stone, pivoted, and threw it through his chest. I ran and tackled another flier, crushing several of their ribs.

Finally the rest of the fliers were up in the air and scattering. Captain Hill hovered nearby, laughing like a mad man while he radioed for a healer.