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Emily remembered that a mile around a track was four laps, though she knew some track lengths varied. She didn't push herself too much at the beginning, but her mind continuously told her that if she wanted security that she wouldn't be in trouble, trying to secure a decent place was necessary. 

However, it had been a few months since she ran a mile. Playing volleyball didn't require being tested for anything more than strength and agility. During the offseason, being last summer, they focused more on cardio. That was the last time she and the athletic girls even stepped on the track at school. 

Emily kept a good pace, staying in third place behind two other girls. The first-place runner would surely be gassed after the first lap. She was way ahead of the group by about thirty or forty meters. From what Emily was taught, it was a good strategy not to burn too much energy at the beginning of the race. The concept was to start strong to secure a good position against the other runners and keep a steady pace throughout most of the race while maintaining your energy for the end, where you push to score first place. It wasn't only about who was the fastest, but who could preserve the most energy throughout the race and push themselves the most at the end. 

She focused on steady breathing, staying close behind the second-place runner as they neared the second curve. Despite trying to keep a clear head, Emily's mind raced with multiple questions. What would happen to whoever came in last place? Would Murray or Hayward do something horrible to them, like how Hayward almost shot Taryn yesterday? He didn't kill her, but all he had to do was aim a bit to the left. 

Hayward had them wrapped around his fat fingers. What pissed Emily off the most was that there was nothing she could do about it except do what she was told to the best of her ability. She had no choice but to live in fear of not being good enough. Refusing to listen or to cooperate would lead to her death. Emily couldn't fathom the ideas that Hayward would come up with to kill her. 

She crossed the starting line, officially a quarter of the way done with the race. The girl in first place was beginning to lose some steam but still managed to hold her position. As she cleared the first curve, she saw that Savannah was just now entering the last stretch of the lap. It was difficult to tell from afar, but Emily wasn't sure she'd have the energy to push through the remainder of the race. It terrified her to think of what might happen if she couldn't finish.

Emily pursed her lips and forced herself to focus on what she needed to do, but it was significantly easier said than done. The present scenario alone was enough to make any normal person quiver with fear, but adding on an exercise that you needed to be in great physical shape for with a hypothetical gun pushed against the back of your head was far greater. Emily had a lot to live for, including her family and the plans she had for the future. She wanted to live to see all of that. 

Therefore, she needed to try her best for herself, her family, Eli, and her future. 

She wondered how Eli was doing. He and the boys were in the weight room, so there was no telling what the Supreme Leader was putting them through. Emily internally told herself that he was strong enough to push through whatever activities were taking place. Something that she admired about Eli was his determination and his willingness to endeavor adversity. 

Shortly after passing the girl in third, Emily crossed the starting line for the second time, now halfway through the race. She exhaled sharply, determined to finish strong. A quick feeling of nervousness grew as she thought about not having enough energy to complete the race with good placement, but Emily knew that she had to try. She couldn't give up just yet.

On the next lap, Emily focused on pacing herself rather than passing the people ahead of her. She figured saving as much energy as possible for the last lap was wise. It was hard not to speed up to finish the lap faster, but Emily willed herself to run at a consistent pace. 

Her mind brought back memories of her athletic experiences during high school. The time she made a series-winning serve against their school's biggest rivals in the playoffs, tying the record for the second most assists throughout a season, and most importantly, bonding with the friends Emily made that could last a lifetime. She dearly missed her girls, especially their early-morning coffee runs, after-practice dinner at various homes, and catching up on boy drama. Emily enjoyed every bit of it, even the hard moments. 

It gave her more of a reason to keep going. She wanted to see her friends again.

Emily pushed herself, ignoring the growing pain in her legs.

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Meanwhile, I picked up the heavy bar from the rack and lifted it from my chest. Being far from naturally athletic, working out was something I had little experience in. My arms were already shaking after doing a couple of sets. I pressed once and came down before trying to push it up again, but my arms suddenly started to fail me. 

"Come on, Eli," Anthony, my partner, said in a critical tone. "Don't get us in trouble, please." 

He helped me through the next few reps before putting the bar on the rack. I painfully sat up as Anthony pushed my shoulder, almost causing me to fall off the bench. "I'm serious. Don't get us in trouble, or I swear I'll kill you myself." 

"I'm trying my best," I defended, trying to keep my voice at a reasonable level. "Not everyone is as athletic as you are. You're built like a lineman, and I'm built like a stick." 

Maybe I exaggerated my size, but compared to him, it was true. I wasn't sure why I was paired with him to begin with. Anthony rolled his eyes. "Shut up and spot me." 

He came off as a prick, but his eyes were constantly wide with a mix of fear and adrenaline. It was the same with a few of the other boys. There were occasional instances where a few of the boys would start yelling at each other, but Hayward fired his gun in their direction. The bullets never hit, but they'd get just close enough to cease the ruckus. 

Anthony benched the weight easier than I did. It was obvious that he was either gifted with natural strength or had a history of working out. After he racked it, Hayward blew his whistle shortly after. 

"Remove the bench and prepare for squats!" 

I hastily did as instructed and returned to the rack, only vaguely knowing how to do the proper form. We were shown a brief tutorial for those unknowing, but it still didn't give me the confidence I needed. 

Another whistle blared through my eardrums. I hesitantly placed the bar on the back of my shoulders and lifted it off the rack. Taking a step backward, I exhaled before squatting. The weight was more than enough to make me struggle, feeling my hamstrings burning. I repeated this a few more times before racking the bar. Anthony wordlessly stepped up to it and began his set. 

He had much more experience than me, and it was obvious. To him, I was nothing more than a rookie trying to find his place in a gym. I had a huge feeling of not belonging right as I stepped foot in the weight room. 

We did two more sets of squats before Hayward barked the next exercise. "Shoulder press! On my whistle!" 

It blew a few seconds later, and Anthony approached the rack. He curled his wrists back and rested the bar on his fingers. After stepping backward, he lifted the bar above his head with little struggle. With shaky arms, he completed the last one before racking the bar. Seeing him remotely struggle caused me to lose some confidence in myself. Was I going to be able to get through this? What would happen if I failed? 

Anthony shoved my back, causing me to stumble forward. "Come on!" 

He was right. I couldn't afford to hesitate. I imitated his form and lifted the bar. Taking a step back, I prepared to lift it. Repping out the first few, it was going to be difficult to finish the set. My arms were heavy and lifting the weighted bar will be my biggest challenge so far. 

I pushed the bar above my head. Sweat was dripping down my forehead and arms. Pushing it again, I could feel my arms violently shaking. There was no way I could do the last one. I could feel my arms failing me. 

Don't let this happen. There's no telling what Hayward's going to put me and potentially everyone else through. I can't fail. I can't leave Emily alone. I gave everything to the last rep, but my arms still couldn't bring the bar above my head. Trying to add leg power proved useless in a desperate attempt to complete the rep. 

The bar started to slip out of my fingers from the sweat accumulating in my hands, but I felt a pair of hands clasp my elbows. Anthony pushed my arms above my head, the bar still in my hands. I finally managed to rack it before my arms fell limp beside me. 

I glanced at Anthony. "Thanks." 

"You had nothing to do with it," he replied without making eye contact. "I'm not going to get killed from your mistakes. Don't make me do it again." 

I needed to get stronger as soon as possible. There was no way I could afford to keep this up for much longer. I was bound to make a fatal mistake or fall behind. For Emily. For myself. For everyone around who was struggling more than me. 

Hayward blew his whistle, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Let's go! We're only halfway through! Don't make me drag this out!" 

Trying to hide my dissatisfaction, I pursed my lips. Was this real? How much longer was he going to put us through this? If I recall correctly, strength and physical training lasted an hour and a half, but what prevented him from extending the period? 

Anthony finished his curl set, resting the bar on the rack that sat at our knees. With considerable weight, I willed myself to push through the remainder of the workout. 

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After we finished weightlifting, we joined the girls on the field. Emily and I made eye contact, but we knew that it wasn't wise to conversate with each other right now. However, it was a relief to know that she was okay, regardless of the sweat dripping down her forehead and her legs shaking intensely. My entire body was already hurting, and physical training was far from over. What was after this? Lunch? 

Snap out of it, Eli. You won't make it to lunch if you focus too much on the future. 

Hayward had us line up in six groups of four alone the first line on the field. I stood as the group leader, which consisted of Javier and two other girls, who all looked considerably nervous. I wanted to offer reassurance, but I figured I wouldn't be much help at the moment. However, I subtly nodded. It was the least I could do. 

A whistle brought me back to attention. The Supreme Leader and General Murray stood about ten yards ahead of us. Hayward began barking out instructions. "On my whistle, your group will sprint as fast as you can to the other end of the field. Murray will keep track of the winners and losers of each group. The winner will move up to the next group, and the loser will move to the group behind you. Yes, in the back?" 

He motioned to a girl with wavy brown hair and a dark complexion. She stood in the back row. "What if you lose in the last group?" 

"A severe punishment will follow of my choice," Hayward replied. "Believe me, it'll be a lot harder than simply sprinting up and down the length of a football field. It could be an endless amount of pushups while being electrocuted, situps while being whipped, I haven't decided. Just don't be the one to finish last, and you'll have nothing to worry about." 

"What if you finish first in the first group?" a girl in my row asked. 

Hayward suddenly glared before slowly walking in her direction. "Let me explain something to all of you. Speaking out of turn is a severe lack of disrespect. This is the one warning I will allow. Do it again, and I promise you that you'll regret it. Understood?" 

The girl, visibly on the verge of tears, hesitantly nodded. "Y-Yes, sir." 

Seemingly satisfied, he backed away and cleared his throat. "To answer your question, the winner of the starting group will be awarded a break for one race. Does that sound fair enough?" 

As expected, nobody argued against his reward. The only disappointing thing that came to mind was that there was a minuscule chance that I'd be the fastest out of my group, which was the first, especially knowing that people would begin to migrate into the groups based on their speed, meaning the fastest would eventually end up in my group? Was I fast enough to hold my place, or would I find myself in the slower groups? I had confidence that I wouldn't have to face Hayward's punishment for finishing dead last, but I didn't want to let my guard down too soon. I was scared for the person that has to be at his mercy. 

Where was Emily? I looked around to see that she was in the group behind me. How would she do? I wasn't sure what the girls did before this, but they were already tired. I silently prayed that she would have the mental and physical strength to push through this. There was no way I could bear to watch her get punished. Emily noticed my gaze and offered me a small smile.

"First group! On my whistle!" Hayward announced, raising his hand. 

Forcing myself to turn my attention to the open field ahead of me, I entered into a runner's stance and prepared for the whistle. 

If I'm going to do this, I might as well try my best. I had no clue what was going to be in store for me in the future, but if I let my guard down, I might not make it out of here in good health. 

Hayward's whistle blew, and I drove my foot into the turf and exploded out of my stance. 

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