Page 72 of Remade

“Slow sips, kid,” I advised. “It’s just gonna come up again.”

He let out a heavy breath and lowered the water bottle.

I glanced through the window, and everything else looked good. Maxine had impressed me this round. She was tougher than she came across.

I dragged a stool closer to Philip and sat down across from him.

He blinked and glanced at me. “Are we at Hillcroft?”

I nodded, sensing his confusion. No surprise. We’d picked up the trainees, thrown hoods over their heads, and taken them for a spin in three vans before we’d come back here through the delivery bay behind the cafeteria.

“How are you feeling?”

Another breath gusted out of him, his dark skin beading with sweat. “Honestly? I wanna be done.”

I felt my forehead crease. “Done, how? You’re one of our most promising recruits.”

He’d flown under our radar the first couple of months, with average scores and blending in a little too well. Which, ironically, had caught our attention eventually. He did what he was supposed to, nothing more, nothing less, and that was exactly what we wanted.

“I appreciate you sayin’ that, but I’m so tired, man. I feel burned out,” he admitted. “I don’t understand how we’re supposed to finish in time. These past two days exhausted me.”

I understood him. “It’s exhausting work.” There was no getting around that. “But to be fair, we never really finish. Operators complete these drills every year.”

He frowned. “Really?”

“Of course. We gotta stay on top of things. Senior operators, for instance, go through our own version of Hell Week every year.” Mine was coming up in May. “When I was gone for three days in January, it was because I had seminars on drone warfare to go to.”

He nodded slowly and dropped his gaze to his lap. “What if my heart’s not in it anymore?”

I suppressed a sigh. “That’s a problem,” I conceded. “Is that how you feel?”

“If things are only getting rougher from here, then yeah.” He swallowed hard. “It fuckin’ kills me to admit it, but I think I was better off in the Air Force. My job wasn’t the most exciting, but I had stability and routines.”

Then there wasn’t much left for me to say. As much as it sucked to lose him, I couldn’t lie to him and say a life with us would give him stability.

“I want you to take twenty-four hours away from here and think shit over,” I requested. “Are you extra close to anyone here? Maybe talk to them too.”

“Shawn,” he muttered. “We talked some nights when we couldn’t sleep. We were gonna take down warlords in Africa.”

I smiled sympathetically. “You haven’t left us yet. I mean it—think things over.”

“Yessir.”

May 14th, 2025

“Do you need help, buddy? Want me to get you crutches at Nurse Tina’s office?”

“Fuck off,” I grumbled and limped inside the familiar lobby.

Finally back at Hillcroft.

Hell Week had been… Fuck it, it’d been okay. Hellish, for sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Well, until tragedy had struck.

I winced and shifted my duffel bag from right shoulder to left, and I aimed for the elevators.

Hyatt laughed all the way to the cafeteria. His clothes were as muddy as mine, but he was evidently in the mood to piss off the staff with his appearance. I wanted a shower before I ate. Not to mention a fuck-ton of sympathy from Leighton.

He’d spent the week here instead of in our apartment, and he’d texted me what unit he was in. Evidently, he’d gotten too bored after hours when Alex wasn’t around, and I could admit that was reassuring. I bet he’d come with me when I picked her up at Ma’s tomorrow.

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