Chaos broke out the moment they moved. The formation collapsed as recruits surged forward, bumping into each other in their rush. Some sprinted ahead, others hesitated, and within seconds the line turned into a scattered mess.
The mud field waited ahead. Mercer reached the barbed wire and dropped flat, the movement quick despite the weight on his back.
Gunfire erupted. Sharp cracks tore through the air as the first recruit started crawling. The sound hit hard, loud, sudden, and close.
Too close. Mercer flinched, Rounds snapped overhead, fast enough to blur. He couldn't track them, only hear them tearing through the air inches above.
For most of them, it was their first time this close to live fire. 'Don't freeze.' He thought to himself as he moved through. His body tensed for half a second. Then he forced himself forward.
The mud swallowed his arms as soon as he moved, thick and heavy. Every inch felt like it fought back. It clung to his uniform, dragged at his elbows, slowed everything down.
The pack didn't help arduous task. It pressed into his back, shifting with every movement, pushing him deeper into the ground.
Mercer gritted his teeth and kept crawling. Ahead of him, the line crawled at a crawl, too slow, but there was no way around it. Each recruit had to wait for the one in front to move.
Someone further up hesitated. A shot cracked louder than the rest.
"Keep moving!" a voice shouted from somewhere behind. Mercer didn't look back. 'Just keep going.' The thought repeated in his head incessantly.
The recruit ahead finally moved far enough forward. Mercer pulled himself up to the start of the wire. Then he pushed in.
The barbed wire hung low above him, close enough to touch. Gunfire cracked overhead, constant and unforgiving. It kept him pressed into the ground.
Mercer dragged himself forward. The mud slowed everything. It clung to his arms, pulled at his legs, made each movement harder than the last. The pack on his back pressed him down, forcing him deeper into it. His muscles burned.
'Keep moving.' He said to himself. He didn't stop. Halfway through, the wire dipped even lower. It scraped against the top of his helmet with a faint metallic rasp.
He was too high. Mercer flattened himself further, pressing his chest into the mud. The smell hit him, wet earth, thick and sour. He ignored it and kept going.
Every movement felt heavier now. His arms shook. His breathing turned rough, uneven.'Don't slow down.'
He pushed forward. Inch by inch, he forced his body through the trench until finally, his hand hit solid ground beyond the wire.
He dragged himself out. Then he got to his feet.
Mud dripped from his uniform. It clung to his gloves, his sleeves, even his face. He wiped at his mouth and spat, trying to get rid of the taste, but it stuck. No time.
He turned, and saw the recruit behind him. The man was stuck. His collar had snagged on the wire, holding him in place. Every time he tried to move, the barbs dug in deeper. Panic was already setting in.
For a second, Mercer didn't move. Gunfire still snapped overhead. The recruit struggled again.
"Hey!" the man started, voice tight. Mercer's jaw clenched. 'If I stop…' he was fighting the voices internally that told him to help, he didn't know if he should, or if he should just continue and finish the course.
He looked ahead. The rest of the course waited. Then back at the recruit. '…I can't fall behind.'
Another pull. The wire caught tighter. The man winced. Mercer exhaled sharply, then he turned away.
He pushed forward, forcing his legs to move despite the weight and the burn in his body. He didn't look back again.