Gabi estimated there was one freakishly fit test proctor for every three or four recruits, lined up along the far wall of the gym like bullets in a chamber. Among them were Luke, Ruth, Zach, and Beth, as well as a handful of other counselors from camp. Luke caught Gabi’s eye and gave her a thumbs-up. For a beat, she warmed toward him, but then she remembered the glade, the gun, and his oily adoration of Sam and she quickly regained her senses. Ruth was cool and hard as marble in her uniform, and Zach looked like he was having an allergic reaction to something, so swollen did his muscles look under the tight material. Beth’s eyes were strangely pink and puffy and she was staring holes into Marnie, who stood in the lineup a few places down from Gabi.
The gym was a balmy oasis compared to the airless testing hall, due to two large doors thrown open to the outside. Gabi was shocked at the brilliance of the afternoon light. The written exam had taken its toll, and it felt more like the middle of the night. In the center of the room stood a pile of large identical backpacks, bulging with mysterious weight. A hulk of a man, scarred and poured into a black-and-gray uniform, stood beside the mountain of packs. Fluorescent lights blared down from the iron scaffolding to bounce off his shiny, bare skull, and after a silent, steely assessment of the recruits, he spoke.
“Welcome to the fitness portion of your Witness exam,” he said in a voice that was not too loud to be dignified, but still managed to ring throughout the gym. “I am Chief Trainer and Witness veteran Quentin Foulkes. This portion of the exam is designed to test your endurance, agility, and practical knowledge of basic hand-to-hand confrontation. But more than that, it is designed to show us whether you possess the raw ingredients to be trained as a Witness.” As he spoke, the scars on his face tugged at the healthy skin around them, creating creases and wrinkles along vectors where wrinkles did not normally form. This interplay of tissue and the extreme definition of his body made him look like a cyborg, all greased gears and interlocking plates of steel. Gabi sensed no menace radiating from Foulkes, though he looked as dangerous as any of the assault weapons in the back pages of Mission Possible.
“We don’t expect anyone to walk in here ready to serve as a Witness tomorrow. Our training facility and instructors are top-notch, as is our curriculum. However, since you have all been recruited to take this exam, we assume you will be able to complete the test without risking serious harm. Anyone among you who is not 100 percent confident you can safely endure the next five hours of testing should excuse yourself from the exam now. Unless you are ready for the most physically challenging few hours of your life, please show yourself out.”
When no one headed for the door, Foulkes signaled to the training proctors, and they fell into formation behind him. “Recruits, count off to twenty. There should be four of you to a group. Wait until the counting is done, then find the proctor holding up your number. Your proctor will lead you through some basic exercises, then test you on holds, blocks, and takedowns. The only people allowed to speak for the next five hours are the proctors and myself, unless you are having a medical emergency. Any breach of this rule will result in immediate disqualification from the exam. Count off.”
The recruits had just reached their second round of twenty when the doors behind them swung open and the bespectacled lady from the testing hall entered, followed by two Minder-sized men in proctor uniforms. The lady approached Trainer Foulkes, who held up his hand to halt the count and bent his missile-shaped head toward her so she could whisper in his ear. The woman withdrew a piece of paper from her suit jacket and unfolded it for his inspection. Foulkes skimmed the document as the recruits shifted nervously, adrenaline making them antsy. He nodded, and the woman spun on her heel and walked straight up to Marnie. She pulled Marnie from the lineup and said a few words in the girl’s ear. Marnie looked at the Minder-sized men by the door, her body coiling as if in preparation for flight. With a glare in Beth’s direction, Marnie followed the older woman’s stiff back as she marched out of the gym.
The brief process was carried out with surgical precision. Marnie had been removed from their presence like a malignant growth, and no one apart from Foulkes or the stern woman had the slightest idea why. Gabi discarded the possibility that it was a ploy to psych the rest of them out before the exam. Trainer Foulkes was demonstrably unhappy with the disturbance, and he did not strike Gabi as having a flair for drama. Jordan’s head poked out from the lineup to catch her eye, and Gabi shrugged at him to demonstrate that she was as clueless as he was.
“Continue the count,” Trainer Foulkes barked, and they did. Who knew why Marnie had been removed from the exam, but no one was taking any chances that they might be next.
Gabi agonized over Marnie, but the minute she realized Zach would be the one proctoring her team, she decided to prioritize survival over torturing herself with worst-case scenarios. She would be no use to her friend in a full-body cast. Wasting no time, Zach whipped out a stopwatch and directed his group to start doing jumping jacks to warm up. Gabi was warm after the first minute and gasping for air after five, but Zach did not click his stopwatch until minute twenty-five, when even the fittest among them were struggling to raise their arms. Only one exercise
