Chapter 7

"Kayla, wake up!" Dr. Gray's voice whispered in Kayla's ear. She gave a small smile in her sleep and rolled over on her creaking cot. He'd call again, at least two more times before she'd answer. She just wanted to hear his voice. "Kayla!" The voice grew more insistent.

"Kayla, you are the laziest girl in my care," Dr. Gray's voice changed into that of her Dorm Mother's. "Get out of bed now." Her Dorm Mother's voice carried little inflection. They'd come to an uneasy truce: Kayla didn't mouth off and her Dorm Mother didn't pop her in the mouth.

Kayla groaned but sat up and pushed the thin blanket off. As with most mornings, her Dorm Mother was standing over her, hands balled into fists on her hips, scowling down at Kayla.

"In six months, I've-"

"-never had a charge so lazy, disrespectful, and insolent," Kayla finished for her. She hated her life here. "And in six months, I've never had adults who treat me like an adult. Seems to me, we're pretty even."

Her Dorm Mother's face was slowly turning beet red, "You cheeky little twit! You are not an adult nor will you be for some time." Kayla was treading close to crossing the line of their silent truce. "Mind your tongue outside because, while I won't hit you for insubordination, there are plenty of people here, civvies or soldiers, here who will." Kayla made a face but rose from her bed. "Class starts in twenty minutes and it's not my fault if you don't get food." Despite the harsh criticism in the woman's voice she worried that the girl didn't eat enough. Kayla was barely fifteen and had the thin, gangly look of most teenagers in the camp. Her knees and elbows showed through her clothes and her pants didn't cover her bony ankles.

Kayla snagged her clothes from the floor and scooted past her Dorm Mother to the bathroom. She was one of the last children into the showers and was able to wash and dress quickly. Minutes after being awoken, she reported to the mess, drew her breakfast ration, and bolted it down as she scurried out to the snowy training field.

Offutt's main base had survived the initial nuclear attacks having been outside the area missile could reach, even coming over the North Pole. After the dust had settled, what was left of the American population had fled there. The base had been well stocked and a large portion of the military's leadership had ended up there, taking refuge in the base's underground facilities. Those surviving leaders had taken the people flooding the gates and formed them into a cohesive community. In only a matter of days, they had ferreted out those who had useful skills, farming them out, literally, to local farms to begin agricultural production. Those with skills that could keep the base's infrastructure running were shipped out to various positions around the Omaha area to keep the lights on and the water flowing. Those who were left were given the task of erecting mass shelters, field kitchens, and a small field hospital. The few surviving civic leaders joined the military leaders, which helped to ease the inevitable friction between civilian and military parts.

Those civilians who survived to arrive at Offutt soon learn to respect the dedication and professionalism of the military members residing there. They whined and griped about conditions until it was pointed out that most of the military personnel were living in worse conditions. As the dust settled from the nuclear exchanges and the US and Russia worked out their treaties the small group worked to give the community purpose and direction.

Kayla grumbled under her breath about having classes outside in the snow but she cut it off as she approached the group. She knew better than to complain aloud. First, it didn't do any good, and second it as likely to get her some boring, smelly duty as punishment from her strict teachers. Compared to most of her teachers, her Dorm Mother looked like a pussycat.

"Form up, class!" Kayla's teacher, a tall man in grey fatigues yelled. His fatigue bore no rank, meaning he was only a civilian, but Kayla darted into place all the same. There was no point in arguing with him this early in the day.

After taking accountability for the class, he broke them into groups. "Fourteens and fifteens, you're on hand to hand combat drills with me. Tens to thirteens, you're leading the nine and unders in conditioning until midmorning break." With a minimum of grumbling about snowy and cold, the class split into smaller groups. "And good news today, we have a small class room this afternoon." The class cheered, classrooms meant warmth. "Fourteens and fifteens you'll be working with your jobs journeymen. Tens to thirteens, you'll be tutoring the little kids in arithmetic and reading."

Kayla moved with her group to start hand-to-hand drills, avoiding eye contact with anyone as she tried to find her Joey, her usual training partner. He was a jerk, but he was the best of a bad lot. They all seemed nice enough on the outside but Kayla knew they were all wolves in teenager costumes. She could find some peace in her classes and apprenticeship time, but once back in the children's dorms, compulsory for anyone under sixteen and anyone under eighteen without a job, the minefield of teenage angst started.

Kayla, like every other child, had been given an assessment of her physical and mental skills once she'd come out of quarantine. She had scraped a passable level in her physical skills, being a strong runner, and had excelled in her mental aptitude tests. However, the base had little need for smarty-pants teenagers with no work experience. Kayla had been lumped into the base defense group along with the majority of her teen and pre-teen peers. This meant long days working out in hand-to-hand combat skills, physical conditioning, and shooting practice. Kayla knew it meant that should the Russians attack again, something most adults assumed was highly likely despite the peace treaty, she would be on the front line of defense. She tried to avoid thinking about the dismay her father would feel seeing her used as nothing more than cannon fodder in the making.

"Hey little Einstein," Joey mocked her. Joey was a seventeen year old on his last few weeks of apprenticeship before his eighteenth birthday. Taller that Kayla but gangly, they had been paired up for sparring so often that they just accepted it and chose each other every day.