Leave Me Behind

Bunny. They fucking call me Bunny! It better not be my code name for the squad or I swear to God I’ll… I’ll… I let out a scream into my pillow and punch the sheets.

After Bradshaw realized who I was, we stopped talking and he left abruptly.

I proceeded to my room where I am now freaking the fuck out.

“Goddammit. Goddammit!” My words fill the dark hotel room. I lie back on the bedsheets we just fucked on and spread my arms out, exhausted with the day and dreading meeting the new squad more than I already was.

I put my bulky headphones on and blare “Forget Me Too” by MGK with a scowl firmly planted on my face until I eventually pass out.

My blood is thick with anxiety as I step off the bus and onto military grounds with only my small bag of personal items glued to my side. I hold it firmly beneath my arm as a sort of security blanket.

Jenkins always told me I had small bad habits. The bag under my arm being one of them. The hope I had in my eyes being another, though I don’t have that problem anymore. That died many, many years ago.

This is fine. I’m fine. I take a grounding breath. I just hope that Bradshaw isn’t on my immediate squad. There are three squads in our underground branch after all: Malum, Riøt, and Hades. My squad was the only one stationed on the East Coast. Hades and Malum are both located here, as they work closer together. But based on how he reacted last night to who I was… ugh. The odds aren’t in my favor.

Worst case scenario, he’s the sergeant or something. There’s absolutely no way he’s my partner, Bones.

The dread inside me only sinks further as I step foot into the cement fortress. The buildings on this base are all a mundane gray. The lawn is cut short and neat. Men run in groups around the fenced track for their morning exercises and I can instantly feel several sets of eyes on me. Judging, I’m sure.

Time to set in the cold bitch face Jenkins taught me. He made sure I knew how to survive in this male-dominated world. “Otherwise you’d be eaten alive,” he told me. I only wish he had taught me something in case I accidentally slept with one of my squadmates unknowingly. Now that would’ve been useful.

I take a deep breath and keep my eyes straight ahead. My legs move in a steady beat, almost a march. I ignore the looks and demeaning whispers that are huffed out under disapproving breaths.

It’s difficult sometimes to remember that most of these men aren’t aware the dark forces even exist. I mean, it was only formed around twenty years ago with the rise of organized terrorism and black market dealings that the government didn’t want their name attached to. Private sectors were formed to keep everything and everyone blissfully ignorant of the darkness that truly unfolds in this world. Sometimes we do truly morally corrupt things, like taking out scientists in other countries that are working on new methods of curing diseases. But we aren’t here to question the missions, we just have to execute them. Follow orders.

I’ve come to the conclusion that we aren’t the good guys. Hence why we’re under the rug.

Getting angry will only fuel their taunts, I remind myself. Show them you’re worthy of their respect. Jenkins told me this every time he found me crying in secret during my first few years. I’d never had such tender hands wipe away my tears before. He would sit beside me and wait until I calmed, then he’d tell me to show my comrades I deserved to be here as much as they did.

It’s harder to hold onto those words as I enter the small war room with my new squad waiting for me like a den of snakes. They’re all here already. They lift their heads and give me nothing less than harrowing scowls.

There are six of them in total. I instantly recognize Eren standing at the head of the room—his expression is the only one that has a bit of pity for me, but there’s also a distinct sharpness there too. Shit, that means Bradshaw told him everything.

I sweep the room, not seeing Bradshaw’s face. I almost relax, thinking that I’ve evaded the worst possible outcome, before my eyes land on one man who’s wearing a black fabric mask over the bottom half of his face. Only his pale blue eyes, black hair, and scars are visible.

I could die right now from the anxiety coiling inside my stomach.

No one mutters a word. The room feels ten degrees warmer than I’m sure it is as I awkwardly take the only open seat. Right next to Bradshaw. I pull my arms in tight against my chest, trying to avoid touching him. I swallow the shame that burns my throat. Why couldn’t he have been someone else? Anyone else.

Eren moves toward the door and shuts it before addressing all of us. “Malum Squad, meet our new recruit, Private Gallows. Originally from Riøt Squad.”

Malum. I had to look it up the first time I’d heard of them. When I was assigned to Riøt at the start of my military sentence, I didn’t know there were two other dark forces squads that were just as lethal as we were. Hades: The hounds they send to wreak havoc. Riøt: The executors of traitors. And Malum: The Evil—the squad that goes where no one else can or is qualified to go, to snuff out the enemy quietly like ghosts in the darkness of night. Most of their missions are with secret organizations in remote locations. Busting black market weapons merchants or huge drug dealers that have integrated into society behind the facade of commercial retailers.

I straighten and keep my expression schooled into the hard and emotionless appearance that’s required to be sitting here in this room. They all give me bone-chilling stares. Bradshaw doesn’t even bother glancing my way. His arms are tightly crossed around his chest.

Anger swells inside my lungs but I keep it tamed. Show them I deserve to be here.

“I’m honored to be here, sir,” I respond with a sharp tone.

Eren smirks at me. “We all go by code names here, so I’ll only tell you your comrades’ names once. You’ll be good to remember them and protect them with your life, Private Gallows.” I give him a curt nod, my lips pressed firmly. Starting with the guy on my right he points to them and goes down the line. “Jefferson, Pete, Ian, and Harrison.” He skips Bradshaw and for a moment I think it’s because he knows I already met him. “Their corresponding code names are: Jobs, Badger, Colt, Wasp, and Bones. My code name is just Sergeant.”

Bones.

My eyes widen and that pit in my stomach sinks further with the confirmation of the worst-case scenario.

Please, God, tell me I didn’t fuck the Bones, the dark ops guy who is rumored to be a death god. I once heard that he tore a soldier’s arm off and used the broken humerus bone as a spear as he shoved it down another’s throat. Not even his squad is supposed to know his identity. The same guy that I’m charged with being the direct second to. His partner in the trenches.

That guy.

“And your code name is Bunny,” Eren says with a dark tone that sets my lungs ablaze. The corners of his lips twitch, suppressing a wry smile.

I look up at him sharply and glare. “I’m sorry, sir. That’s unacceptable.”

The men all burst into laughter except Bones, clearly not finding anything about this situation funny. He sits with his arms firmly crossed, refusing to look at me. His black compression long-sleeve shirt is tight against his skin, making those memorable muscles stand out.

Eren levels me a cruel grin. “Your squad chose your code name for you, Bunny. Are you implying that they aren’t worthy to name their newest squadmate?”

My teeth bore a hole into the side of my cheek and blood blooms across my tongue. I can’t decline it. Of course, they would do this to me. I’m not surprised but it still stings my pride. Even Riøt called me Gallows. They found my name to fit my personality and ruthless executions. With a deep breath, I force a hard smile. “No sir, Bunny… is adequate.” God, those words are physically painful to say.

The men roar with laughter once more and I have to bury my nails into my palm to keep from losing my shit. It’s ten thousand times worse than being laughed at by eighteen- and nineteen-year-old comrades; I wasn’t as tough back then as I am now. These men are full-grown assholes. Early thirties, maybe mid to late twenties like me and they still act like pricks.

They can make fun of me all they’d like. It’s me who’s going to be saving their asses in the field. If they want to call me Bunny, then I’ll be the most vicious little creature they’ve ever crossed.

“Aw, she’s so cute guys,” Pete says in a condescending voice. There isn’t a hint of jovial lightheartedness in those dark brown eyes of his.

Jefferson tilts his head at me and scowls. “I don’t even think she’s cute. Riøt Squad must’ve been blind,” he remarks as he nudges Pete with his elbow.

I stand abruptly and slam my hands on the table. That gets their attention. They shut up and stare at me with hatred.

“Don’t talk about my squad,” I threaten Jefferson. He sits tall in his seat, with short light-brown hair that’s slicked back.

He narrows his eyes at me, clearly not caring about my fair warning, as he snaps back, “Ex-squad, Bunny. They’re all dead.”

I lunge at him to… I don’t know, hit him or something irrational, but Bones grabs my wrist tightly and whistles. “Whoa, Bun. You’ll only excite us if you get physical.” I whirl on him and tear my arm from his hold, glaring daggers into his eyes. His brow raises with mild amusement.

“That’s enough. Bunny, sit,” Eren commands, opening up his black folder and organizing some pages for the briefing.

Reluctantly, I sit down and only look at the front of the room. This has already turned into the shithole I knew it would be. Bradshaw lets out a long breath. Harrison and Ian talk in a hushed tone, throwing me glares frequently. I hear my squad’s name a few more times in their exchange. I dig my nails into the leather arms of my chair.

Assholes.

“You guys know the drill. When a new squad member joins the team, we take an extended training to bond and make sure they are a good fit. The last thing we want is a mission to go upside down due to lack of trust and skill set. Bunny was primarily the sniper on Riøt Squad, but we’ll need to see how her long distance and close combat skills work with us.”

“But Sarge, you said we don’t have a choi⁠—”

“Pete,” Bradshaw snaps and levels him a glare.

Eren gives Pete a pointed look before continuing. “Yeah, we technically don’t have a choice in whether or not she will fit with the team the way we want. But should she, say, throw in the towel”—his voice is thick with intent—“well, we just don’t have control of that, now do we?”

All heads in the room turn to me, while I look hopelessly at Eren, who I thought was someone I could partially count on but apparently not.

“What does it take to get a bunny to quit?” Ian taunts.

“A big fucking carrot,” Harrison says with a nasty grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. Bradshaw grunts beside me like he’s trying to contain his laugh.

Anger thrums through my veins like fire. “Wait, so instead of accepting me as one of your own, you’re going to try and bully me to quit? Because I’m a former Riøt soldier? What the fuck is wrong with you?” My voice is lead.

“What’s wrong with us? You were the sole survivor while your entire team perished. What does that say about you?” Jefferson leans over the table and sneers at me.

My blood chills because he’s right. And he’s not the only person who’s told me that either.

“The only good Riøt soldier is a dead one,” Bradshaw says smoothly. Like it’s his fucking slogan to live by. His eyes fill with pleasure the angrier I get. I shove him out of his seat and his ass hits the ground. He’s back on his feet in a heartbeat and grabs my shoulders with a vice grip.

“That’s enough, everyone! I don’t want to hear any more trash talk. I’ve already told you I don’t want to see any foul play out there in the training mission. I just want you to not hold back.” Eren moves his eyes to me and his brother, pinning us with a glare. “You too, Bunny. I want to see everything you’ve got.”

Bradshaw’s hold on me loosens and he sits down with force, like a goddamn child.

I stare at Eren for a beat, trying to get a read on him, but his features are stone. I reluctantly nod and fist my hands tightly under the table.

“Any questions before dismissal?” Eren looks us over and when no one else seems to have any, I speak up.

“What’s the mission that’s so important the general sent me?” There are hundreds of other squadless soldiers in the dark forces that are just waiting for positions like these to pop up. They’re already replacing Riøt with some new squad. So why not someone else? Why me?

Eren’s brow twitches as he closes the folder on the desk. “You won’t get the details until we confirm you’re staying on the squad, Bunny.”

I raise a brow and glance at the others. They don’t question their sergeant’s authority at all. “Yeah, because that makes sense,” I grumble, but it’s ignored.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Eren slaps his hands together. “Alright, squad, hit the showers and show Bunny the barracks. We’ll meet at fourteen hundred at the chopper pick-up on the north end of base. Have your bags packed and get ready for a hell of a month.”

They all salute him and stand in unison. “Yes, Sergeant.”

An entire month in the training field is going to suck. But I try my best to stay positive. I give Bones a hesitant look, wondering if we’ll be able to break past our awkward circumstances. In all honesty, it’s not like I haven’t had sex with other comrades. If he’s worried that I know his identity, maybe I should try talking it out with him. I mull it over as the squad files out of the war room.

The twins share an uncertain look between them before Bradshaw walks out.

I stop beside Eren. He’s easier to talk to, so maybe I should try to explain things to him first. “Sarge, I apologize about yesterday. I didn’t know⁠—”

He cuts me off sharply. “Bunny, I trust that you will keep yesterday’s events to yourself entirely. Not a peep unless you want to be shipped out within the next hour.” Eren’s voice drips with disdain, though it’s much softer than the other guys’.

I nod and look away pointedly before following my new squad through the cement jungle.

This is panning out to be way bleaker than I expected. I thought they might at least have a little sympathy for me for losing my comrades, but that’s a hard no. They blame me and, by the sound of it, they’re going to do everything in their power to get me to quit. If I’m anything, it’s stubborn. General Nolan assigned me to Malum for a reason and the concern on his face while telling me I was being reassigned tells me it has a connection to what happened in Patagonia.

I have to stay no matter what. I won’t let Malum scare me off. I have a fucking job to do, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it through. I need to avenge my squad and bring down the enemy. By the end of our training trial in California, I’ll have Malum’s respect.

I take a deep breath and focus ahead where my squadmates walk steadily. They know each other more than anyone, but that’s about to change. I doubt they know my brain is one of my strongest attributes. Cataloging brilliance, Jenkins called it.

Jefferson is the tallest of Malum. Codename: Jobs. I try to go through my motions of memorizing them so I can start the internal profiles I keep of every squadmate I’ve had. It also might be a temporary reprieve from stressing about my situation.

We start training tonight and I need to have each of them down before then. Jefferson has short, light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin. He looks like he’s in his late twenties and has a scar shaped like a bullet hole on the back of his neck. Scars can be weak points. If I find myself in close combat with him, I’ll make sure to dig my knuckle into it.

As I’m walking behind them, analyzing, I can’t help but notice one studying me in return. I look to my left and find Pete’s brown eyes intently on me. His code name is Badger. Of all the men on my team, his eyes are the least judgy. There’s a curiosity to them rather than distrust. He’s taller than me but shorter than Bradshaw. His skin is darker than mine and his black hair is short like Jefferson’s.

“Bunny,” he says in greeting. His tone is void of sarcasm, which I am immensely grateful for at the moment.

“Badger,” I reply just as curtly, and he flashes a tight grin at me.

“You’re quick with names,” he muses.

I don’t return the smile.

Jenkins’s first rule: No emotions. No weakness. Not when you’re on duty.

“I’m going to know everything about you inside and out before your head hits the ground tonight.” My voice is smooth but ill-willed. I’m not going to just forget how big of an asshole he was two minutes ago.

His smile vanishes and a flicker of uncertainty flashes across his gaze. “Uh, s-same,” he stammers before redirecting. “You know you’re dead, right? If you don’t quit willingly, I think Bones just might kill you.”

I set my eyes on the back of Bradshaw’s head. “He can try.”

“Trust me, he will. I hope it’s gross too. You know he has a collection of teeth, right?”

I ignore his attempt to make me fear Bradshaw.

“Because I’m a Riøt?”

Pete’s mouth molds into a sinister grin. “No shit. Your team is the reason we lost Achilles. You guys fucked us when you didn’t show up at the checkpoint.” His voice is laced with anger and he shoulders me before walking ahead. I noticed Bradshaw’s shoulder flinch when he heard the name Achilles.

The soldier I’m replacing.

“Hey, don’t bother talking to Bunny, she’ll be on the first bus out before dawn,” Ian mutters to Pete as they walk side by side. Ignore it—catalog, I order myself. Ian’s code name is Colt. I narrow my eyes at him. He’s the youngest of the group. His hair is an inch longer than Pete’s, black and slicked back. His olive-toned skin is the same shade as mine and he has a cocky smile that I want to put my fist in.

I level him my most insidious stare. One that I hope tells him I’d kill him if ordered to. Because I would. I’ve done it countless times before whether I knew a soldier or not.

“She’ll be crying like a fucking baby when we’re done with her.” Ian winks at me.

“Bunnies will consume their own under stress,” I say nonchalantly, and the five of them stop walking and look back at me, shocked. Even Bradshaw this time, his eyes filled with fury.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Harrison barks, disgust muddled in his voice. Code name: Wasp. His hair is blond and he has pale skin that’s been tanned by the sun. His hair is short and he has a straight nose that has yet to be broken. Yet.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you hard of hearing? I said bunnies will eat their own under stress,” I raise my voice, drawing eyes from other groups of men. My squad’s earlier amusement in me seems to have been properly snuffed out. Their disturbed expressions are better than the sneering ones at least.

They know as well as I do that Riøt specialized in tracking and killing traitors in the armed forces. Sometimes even dark forces soldiers we worked with if their name ended up on Jenkins’s receiver. A black bullet always indicated it was from a Riøt’s weapon. If you were shot with a black bullet, you were dead.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian mumbles.

Jefferson looks at Bradshaw like he wants him to do something about it, then glares back at me. “Great. Our psychopath meets his match and now our lives are in their twisted hands.”

“Make sure to remember that when I’m putting a three-inch bullet through an enemy’s eye socket for your sorry ass, Jobs.” My voice is filled with loathing. I strut past all five of them with my bag slung over my shoulder as I make straight for the showers ahead. Their brows are heavy with irritation, frowns pulling at each of their lips.

Especially Bradshaw. The fact that his mask can’t hide his glower is chilling. He looks at me as if I’m gutter trash that swept in during a storm. It stings my ego, but I banish all the thoughts of him looking tenderly at me last night.

The second I’m alone in the women’s showers I let out an exasperated breath and look at myself in the mirror with dull eyes.

How am I going to make it out of this alive?