Chapter 21
“Mr. Wilkin.” Briar’s voice cut through the hum of the car.
Enzo, hands on the wheel, nearly jumped. “Yeah, what was that?”
Briar smirked, leaning back. “Just sayin‘, Mr. Wilkins suits a guy like you. Rubbing elbows with the Okwell’s big dogs, huh?”
Enzo was stunned, but he didn’t ask how she knew. From day one, Briar had this weird, almost ceric edge
If her record wasn’t so spotless, he’d have bet she was tied to the Strueze region crew.
‘Chill Enzo, he thought. The Stueze region isn’t some open mic night.‘
To him, even though Briar could snag meds from the International Medical Research Institute, she was probably just a low–key player.
“Uh what’s wrong? Enzo asked, his voice shaky.
Briar tapped the window. “Can you hit the gast I’m gonna be late.
Enzo floored it without a word.
Ten minutes later, they screeched to a stop at Limond University’s back gate. Briarhopped out, throwing on a camo jacket and tossing a lazy ware.
“Hey, Mr. Wilkins, tell Cyrus his skulls got some killer vibes!” Briar said.
Enzo sat frozen.
The san was roasting the north campus field at Limond University. The freshmen were lined up, grumbling
Early September heat had the willow leaves curling, and these pampered college kids were wilting fast.
The animation class stood in neat rows, facing their drill sergeant.
Mac scanned for Briar, then whispered to Rhea, Tley. Rhea, where’s Briar? Should we ping her?”
“You! Quit jabbering The instructor, a grizzled thirty–something with a face like burnt toast, zeroed in on Mae.
“What were you just saying the asked.
laring to make a perp
Mac’s stomach dropped, her face pale as a ghost. She stared at the ground, not daring to
He snorted, pointing, “I said line up by height, shortest first, You snoozing Geo the front!”
Mac’s shoulders slumped as she shuffled forward, muttering. “Yes, sir.”
Rhea, itching to text Briar caught the instructor’s glare and ditched her phone.
He eyed the group. “Attention! At ease! Count off”
The three swapped panicked glances. This guy was no joke. Briar was gonna get shredded if she showed up late.
Just then, a figure in boot camp gear sprinted across the field.
The class finished counting as the instructor growled, “Who’s AWOL
Before he could finish, Briar skidded to a stop beside him.
The instructor blinked. “You what’s your deal?”
It wasn’t just Briar’s looks. She had this vibe–cool, in control, like she was running the show.
Even in standard boot camp gear, she looked like the boss.
Briar tugged her cap low. “Reporting, sir. I’m late.”
The man’s face twisted like he’d swallowed a bug. “You’re late!”
Briar nodded, cool as ice.
1/2
Chapter 21
The class stared at Briar like she was some kind of legend. Even the instructor’s voice dripped with annoyance.
He sucked in a breath, face like granite. “First day of boot camp, and you’re late. Name?”
“Briar Shepherd, sir,” she said, standing tall.
“You’re the one who read that apology at assembly, right?”
The morning assembly wasn’t just a welcome for newbies–it was the boot camp kickoff. And Brar! She’d already made waves.
“Yup,” she said with a half–smirk. “Can I join the group,
“Join the group?” The instructor’s face twisted like he’d bit into a bad apple. He pointed at the track “Ten laps around the Geld. Now!”
In his mind, fighting on day one, late for boot camp–this girl was trouble, capital T.
Ten laps didn’t faze Briar. Back when she ran the International Mercenary Training Base, latecomers would’ve been running till they dropped. This was nothing.
Her classmates was stunned.
Limond University’s track was 06 miles a lap. Ten laps meant over six miles.
Limand
“Who could run that they thought
“Sir–Rhea started.
Briar shot her a grin, rolled up her sleeves, and bohed
The instructor, expecting a fight, just turned back to the group.
“No way that scrawny girls running six miles, he thought with a smirk. “Bet she’s gasping for a break by the second lap
“What are you staring at? Back to training Keep gawking, you’re running too he shouted.
That shut them up. They snapped to attention, eyes glued to the instructor.
He began, I’m your instructor, Ethan Miller. For the next week, you call me
As he barked orders, Briar flew past, kicking up dust like a rocket
Sir or Mr.
- r. Miller. Farsta
- First up, standing at attention—”
Everyone was shocked, “What the hell was that?
“What are you looking at?!” Ethan snapped.
“Nothing, sir,” they mumbled.
Is she a track star they wondered ‘Since when did art majors sprint like that?!
Ethan’s scowl softened as he fixed their posture. Then he spotted Briar again, already looping back, still tearing it up. Half a lap, done.
He checked his watch, eyebrows up. Under live minutes.
“Not bad, Briar,” he shouted. “A lap in under five minutes. High school boys need four–thirty–two to pass. For a girl? That’s damn good”
The class fell quiet. Uh–uh, you’re wrong. Two laps. Two freakin‘ laps
E
团
