Chapter 1

            You would think if the world was coming to an end they would do away with a few things, like school for example, yet there I sat getting ready for gym class.  Granted, some things did change.  The old books in the library here practically made it sound like there was a school on every street corner a hundred years ago.  But now?  This was the only school topside in all of New York City.  Plus, the only kids who came here were soldiers or hunters and we had to share the school with techies researching…I don’t even know what.  It wasn't even a real high school; it was an old university, Columbia.  We were just here to protect the scientists.  There were never enough soldiers so someone came up with the brilliant idea to send us topside to finish our last two years here among the ferals.  Four years of service was mandatory, so after we graduated we had to go to some post out in the wasteland for another two years.  Everyone else, what was left anyway, stayed down in the tunnels.

            Classes were different now too.  Gym was the most important class of the day and it took up more than half our time.  It was where we learned skills like unarmed survival, marksmanship, and weapon field maintenance.  They didn't bother hiring PE teachers either; they just promoted some of the upperclassman to Sergeant or Senior Hunter and made us do it.  I was a junior and the best of the hunters, so that meant I was the teacher now too.  And yet I still had to run the mile.

            I finished tying my shoes and stood, stomping my feet to settle them better.  As I left the locker room I glanced out across the gym.  Whoever designed it must have been out of their mind.  The running track was on the fourth floor and circled the locker rooms and basketball courts, only the courts were on the second floor so for half its length the track turned into a balcony running along a two story drop.  On the other side of the track was a three story fitness area with weight rooms and cardio machines.  Down in the third floor weight room, the soldier pups were already in the middle of their work out, Command Sergeant Taylor shouting encouraging insults—her version of positive reinforcement.

            My next set of hunter pups was lined up in front of the stretching mats, sharp in their workout uniforms.  The soldiers got to wear your basic camo shorts and t-shirt, but not us hunters.  Our uniform was made from an all-black, light and filmy fabric gathered at the wrist and ankle.  We looked somewhere between a ninja and a pirate; it was embarrassing at first, but I got used to it.

            One of the Pups spotted me and snapped to attention, feet together and fist over his heart.  “Atten-tion!”  His tone was firm, but his voice was only slightly louder than a normal talking volume.  To us, he might as well have shouted.  Instantly the rest mimicked him and he barked, “Salute.”  They bowed, forty-five degrees, head up and eyes straight.  As I passed, I eyed each one in turn, holding their gaze until they glanced down.

            “Five of you and not one can look me in the eye for more than ten seconds.  They’re supposed to send me only the best.  If this is all you have for me, why are you here?”  I kept my voice down, barely a whisper, forcing them to focus.  “I’m Master Alpha Hunter Kai.”  I moved back to the middle of the group and stopped in front of the boy there.  “You, sound off.”

            “Hunter David, Sir.”  His voice was loud with nerves and they all jumped, David included.

            “I did not say relax.  Hold your stance!”  The pups snapped back to stillness, resuming their bow with fist over heart.  I waited a few seconds, to catch any fidgeting, before turning back to David.  “Why are you here Hunter David?”

            “I want to be stronger, to be the best, Sir.”  This time he managed to control his voice.

            I narrowed my eyes and he swallowed as I moved on.  I stopped at the front of the line, beside the one who first spotted me.  “Sound off.”

            “Hunter James, Sir.  I want to become a Senior Hunter, Sir.”

            I folded my arms and stared into his face.  “I only said sound off Hunter James.”  He blinked and looked away.

            “Let’s get this right.”  I moved to the other end.  “Sound off.”

            “Hunter Tarra, Sir.”  Her teeth clicked shut.

            “Why are you here, Hunter Tarra?”

            “Ferals killed my friend, Sir.”

            “That’s an event, not a reason.”  Could this one actually have it right?

            “I’m here to kill mutts.”  Fire burned in her eyes and on her tongue as she spat her answer, and added a belated “Sir.”

            I shook my head as I turned away.  So close, yet completely off.  “There’s only one answer that I’ll accept, but you have to figure it out for yourself.  If I tell you, it won’t mean anything to you, and you’ll get yourself and everyone around you killed.  Figure out why we’re really up here, or you may as well just go back where you came from.” 

            I looked back into Tarra’s eyes.  “If you’re just here to kill mutts, you can do that in a regular squad.  In fact, after your time with the Pack you’ll be given a command, and as a leader you’ll see less and less direct action.  If revenge is all you want you’ll get it better where you were, so leave now.”  I stared into her face for a moment while the fire died back down, replaced by a thoughtful expression.

            Stepping away from Tarra, I stopped again beside James at the head of the line.  “Yes, you have to serve a rotation in the Wolf Pack to be promoted to Senior Hunter, but I will not allow you to take a command if you’re just going to get everyone in it killed from your lack of resolve.  If you cannot find a better reason than that, leave now.”

            Finally, I stopped in the middle again, looking at David.  “Strength without a purpose is like a gun without a target: pointless and dangerous.”

            I moved to the middle of the lineup again, addressing them all.  “You have six weeks to prepare, then the senior squad of the Pack will rotate back into normal service.  There will be four spots open.  That means one of you is guaranteed to fail, but it does not mean that the others are going to make it.  The only way to get a spot in this squad is to pull together as a team, among yourselves and with the soldiers.”  I pointed across the basketball courts to the weight room where the soldiers were lined up doing burpees.  “Until now you’ve worked mostly independently, scouting for your former squads.  But we’re called the Wolf Pack for a reason.  If you cannot form a pack with each other, knowing that the hunter you help may take your spot, you’ll never make it to the squad.  In the Pack, we help our Pack-mates, knowing that it may mean the one we help makes it back instead of us.”

            “As of this moment, you are Wolf Pack Recruits, assigned to the Wolf Pack Pup Squad.”  I pointed to the running track circling the locker-rooms and basketball courts “The soldiers have the track after us,” and then, for the first time, I shouted.  “So run!”  The pups flinched back from the sudden noise and lurched into an unsteady gallop.

            I ran after them, Pushing just a little and was quickly running at the head of the group.  “Lesson number one for Wolf Pack hunters: every animal has its limits; you must learn to Push yours.  The average human can only sprint full out for about three hundred yards, give or take.  If they work hard they can push that boundary back some but no matter where it is, when they hit their limit, they hit it.  For them, running into their limit is like running into a concrete wall.  It won’t matter how fast they are, it’ll stop them.  But we’re different.  Our limits are not concrete, they’re more like elastic.  We can Push them, stretch them with willpower.  Our limits won’t flatten us when we hit them, nor do they tear like a rubber band.  But be careful.  They will fling us back if we push to far, rather like a sling-shot.”  I glanced over my shoulder to gauge their reactions.  They all looked suitably confused.

            “This makes so much more sense when you feel it, don’t worry.  You have two tasks as you train for the Pack.  First: build yourself up to push those limits back through intense exercise, just like any other animal.  The higher your limit, the farther you will be able to stretch when you Push.  Second: learn how far you can stretch yourself.”

            “So, we are going to sprint, full tilt, no-holds-barred, puke your guts out when it’s over, sprint half a mile.”  Someone behind me gasped and I looked back, but their faces were all blank.  “That’s just under nine hundred yards, three times farther than I just told you humans can sprint.  One day, the survival of your whole squad will hinge on your ability to make it back in time to warn them, no matter how far away you are.  Half a mile is only the beginning.”  I paused for a moment, waiting for the end of the lap.  “We’re coming up on our seventh lap.  A mile on this track is ten laps, so when we finish that tenth lap, everyone open it up and fly for another five.  Oh, and if I lap you, you get a thousand push-ups—each time I pass you.  Imagine I’m a feral.  If I pass you, you’re dead.  If I pass you twice, your team is dead.  If I pass you three times, your squad is dead.  If I pass you four times…”  I paused to look back, staring hard.  “If I lap you four times, you’re done.  Go back to your old squad.”

            Just as we approached the start of the ninth lap, the Colonel’s aid came into view, holding out a message.  I grabbed it as I passed and held it open as I ran.  ‘Report to Colonel Anderson ASAP.’  I pocketed the message.

            “Well, the good news is you’re off the hook if I pass you the fourth time.  The bad news is I can’t take my time and go easy on you so you’re all going to owe me three thousand push-ups.”  Just then we finished our tenth lap.  “Open it up!  Show me what you got!”

            I shot away across the track, reaching my limit in a heartbeat and Pushing hard.  My muscles burned as they were dragged past their normal limits and the burn built until it felt like fire was pumping through my veins.  Blood boiling, strength coursed into my limbs and I sped forward so fast the wind was like a second limiting wall and I Pushed against it too.  This was freedom.  A moment later I came up behind the group, now spread out in their sprint.  “There’s a feral on your tail Pup!  Pick it up!”

*****

            “Dog meat, form up!”  Command Sergeant Jessica Taylor shouted when she saw Kai talking to the hunter pups.   “They say they've sent me the best and that you've seen some action.”  Jess snorted in derision, “I used to trust the sergeants’ recommendations but now that I see you ladies I think they've lost their minds.  If you are the best we must be hurting for soldiers a lot more than I realized.  Pathetic.  Form up here, in front of the window, facing out.  We don’t have the track until the hunters are through, so we’re doing burpees instead.  And so help me, if you stop before me I won’t just send you back to your squad, I’ll rip your balls off and feed them to you before you go.  Now RUN!”

            “Sgt, why do you only throw insults at us guys?  Calling us ‘ladies’ and…such?  Half the soldiers in here are girls.”

            It was the recruit closest to Jess.  She looked him up and down, sneering.  He had the heavy shoulders and arms, and thick neck of a body builder.  “You’re a guy?  Don’t make me laugh.  Some advice though: don’t go calling any of those soldiers ‘girls’ where they can hear.  If they get their hands on you, you’ll be wishing they would just rip your balls off and be done with it.  And then they’ll stop being pleasant.”

            She held the exercise for several minutes before giving them a rest.  “So, if you've all seen action, who here has actually seen a hunter in a fight?”

            The soldier that had spoken to her snorted before anyone else could respond.  “They’re worthless is what they are.  Look at them.  Scrawny and weak.  Only that lead hunter up there has any kind of muscle, and even he has nothing on the weakest soldier in this room.  Plus, when things get hot, they’re either gone or they just stand there.”

            “What’s your name, soldier?”

            “Specialist Atkins, Ma’am.”

            That distracted her for a moment.  Specialists were rare and valuable.  “Really, you’re a specialist?  What do you do?”

            “I’m an engineer, laser technology.  Everything from our laser side-arms and assault rifles to the automated defense turrets and the laser grid surrounding the university, I do it all.  I can also handle field repairs for most standard issue gear if they aren't too damaged. But repairs tend to be noisy so we avoid it unless the item in question is essential to the mission.”

            “Well, what are you doing here?  Specialists don’t usually rotate to the wasteland.”

            “Why?  Don’t think a defense turret would be useful if you have to hunker down for a night out there?  Maybe some laser or flash mines to cover your six?  How about a laser grid to make an invisible bottleneck?  You give me the means to transport it and I can rig it.”

            “OK sure, that would definitely improve our odds out there.  Specialists are just too valuable to risk though.”

            “Well, maybe if we stop thinking like that we might actually make some headway.”

            “Fair enough.  Speaking of rare resources, hunters are specialists in their own right, though their specialty is tracking and killing ferals, and there is only one of them to every five of us.  The reason they seem to miss all the action is, until they rotate through the Wolf Pack, they are used entirely as scouts and backup melee guards.  You’ll never see their skills while they’re out scouting the wasteland and they won’t need to fight otherwise unless their fire team is about to be overrun.  That only happens if there is an incursion, or if the soldiers in the fire team screw up.  I know you haven’t seen an incursion; you don’t have that look in your eyes.  So, since you’re already an expert on the hunters, when did you and the rest of your fire team screw up?”

            “Never Ma’am.”  He looked like he wished he was standing anywhere else.

            “So, you've never even had a chance to see them and yet, in your infinite experience, you’re good enough to judge their skill even so?”

            He shrugged.  “No Ma’am.”

            “Good.  Now, as for your jab at the strength of the Master Alpha Hunter up there, if you challenged him to an arm wrestle he’d crush you without breaking a sweat.  To begin with, their senses are a great deal stronger than ours.  They shy at loud noises, but it makes them excellent scouts.  That’s why they never use guns.  Most of our weapons are lasers, they’re silent and lasers conserve ammo, but during an incursion we switch to silver rounds for quicker kills.  Even when a Hunter manages to deal with the noise, they have no talent for firearms; when their blood is up they can’t keep still enough to fire with any kind of accuracy.  Plus, to a man, they are all claustrophobic; I think it has to do with the heightened senses too, but I don’t know for sure.  So, no guns, twitchy, can’t handle enclosed spaces for long—maybe you’re right Specialist.  Maybe they are worthless.  Has anyone actually seen one fight?”  One of the soldiers stepped forward, nodding and Jess said, “What did you see?”  He had that slightly wild, twitchy look in his eyes that meant he’d truly seen some action.  She had a pretty good idea what was coming.

            “It…it was our platoon’s Master Hunter.  There was a minor incursion, ferals everywhere.”  The soldier shook his head, his eyes distant.  “My squad was cut off and the Master Hunter broke through to help us rejoin the platoon.  My gun overheated and my partner went down.  It was two ferals, pouncers.  They were on him before he could react.  Then the Master Hunter was there, between me and them.  He moved faster than I thought possible and he fought with some sort of silver clawed glove.  He killed both ferals in the time it took me to vent my weapon.”

            Jess nodded.  “He was using the hunter’s claw.  It’s a hand-to-hand weapon that Master Alpha Hunter Kai will be teaching your hunters to use.”  Kai and his group ran onto the track and she said, “You’re about to get your first glimpse of what they’re really capable of.  Now, get back to work!  Crunches.  Keep them up as long as they run.”

            At first the hunters just jogged around the track, nothing special, and she saw Specialist Atkins eyeing them, looking unimpressed.  But he was smart enough not to say anything at least.

            “Just wait for it.  Kai is only warming them up right now.”  Just a few laps before the hunters were going to start their sprint, the Colonel’s aid entered the gym carrying a note.  Jess whistled.  “Sucks to be them right now, but you guys are in luck.  We were going to see what the pups were made of, but now you’re going to get to see what your Master Alpha Hunter is capable of.

            When the hunters reached the start of their eleventh lap they all exploded out into an intense sprint, but none faster than Kai.  He shot around the track and was out of view in an instant.

            Specialist Atkins looked stunned.  “How…?”

            “Just watch.  On the fifth lap, half a mile…”  Kai had already passed them three times in the time it took for Jess to respond.  The other hunters were moving at a relatively human speed, but they just kept going impossibly long.  Kai continued to accelerate with each lap until, on the fifth, he launched himself at a reinforced backboard at the start of the curve, slamming feet first into it and springing off.  He ricocheted off two others along the curve like an impossibly large pin-ball and shot back out of sight down the track.  There were three heavy thuds from the other end of the track an instant later as he wall-jumped there as well.  Then he appeared at the far end of the track, jogging to the colonel’s aid and falling in beside him.

            There was a stunned silence in the weight room as the pups finished their laps.  “The Master Alpha Hunter gets going so fast that he can no longer corner sharp enough to maintain his speed on this track so he has to wall-jump like that to get around the curves, but it takes him about half a mile to get up to speed.”

            Specialist Atkins was the first to find his voice and he choked out, “Holy shit!  He moves like a damn feral.”

            Jess rounded on him.  “Don’t ever let him hear you say that.  And watch your mouth numb nuts.  That sort of language was fine in the lower ranks but now you’re expected to show some restraint.  It’s going to cost you an extra half mile on the track today, but if I hear it again I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.  Do you understand?”

            “Yes Ma’am.”  His voice was a startled squeak.

            Jess gave Atkins a shove and shouted, “Get out there dog meat.  All of you.  One mile.  You’re all feral crap waiting to happen.  Prove to me you deserve a spot on this squad.”

            As the soldiers ran up the stairs, the hunters began filtering onto the basketball courts below and she went out on the balcony to encourage them.  “Hop to it Pups, three thousand push-ups.  You thought I didn’t know?  Think again!  If those limp wrists up there finish before you, you get another three thousand.”

            Several of the pups cringed as she shouted, instinctively covering their ears.  “Oh, am I too loud?  Poor puppies…deal with it!”  She shouted even louder.  “How do you expect to handle gunshots if you can’t even put up with my voice?  If you don’t stop flinching I’m going to pump heavy metal music through your enviro-suit’s helmets all week.  Now get to it, three thousand push-ups and you’d better Push, ‘cause the dog meat upstairs are already half-way done.”