The locked doors to the building opened and RAM members spread out to search the building for all the participants. Marrok watched as a group of Hunters surrounded the Cursed One's motionless form and kicked it to make sure it was dead.

I don't think that thing will be moving any time soon.

The woman surveyed the room and ordered the teams around. The professionals removed those with serious injuries from the building. Annoyance flooded through him when he saw some people sporting fake wounds as they moved about to assist the other RAM members. He rejoined Bradley and Julia in the corner of the room as an RAM member checked out Julia's ankle.

"It's definitely broken, but they'll have to do an X-ray at the hospital to see how badly," the RAM member said as she wrapped the ankle. Then, she looked up at Bradley and Marrok. Her voice was tender as she spoke. "What about you two? Any injuries?"

Bradley shook his head. "Just some cuts and bruises for me."

"Same here," Marrok said.

"Good," she said, then turned to Julia. "We'll transport you in a few minutes."

Julia nodded. "Thank you."

Marrok watched the woman pack up the duffel bag filled with medical supplies and move to the next person. Bradley sat next to Julia, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Fatigue wore on Marrok's body as the adrenaline began to wear off and debated whether to take a seat in the floor next to Bradley. Before he could move, a hand clasped his shoulder and Marrok turned to see his brother.

"Come on, you're riding home with me," Riley said as he handed him a pair of boots. "Here, I found these in my truck. They're too big for you, but that's all I have."

"You should've thought about this before the test," Marrok said as he grabbed the boots and pulled them onto his blistered feet.

"Quit your griping. Let's go," Riley said.

Marrok waved a goodbye to his two friends. Following Riley through the building, Marrok weaved his way through the groups of people until they made it to the main door. Riley held the door open as Marrok made his way through. They climbed into Riley's truck before driving away from the building. Riley made light conversation, but Marrok dreaded what he knew was to come.

He'd have to face his father about the test results.

I don't think I did badly. What else was I supposed to do?

Marrok's chest constricted. It became harder to breathe, and he tugged at his shirt collar. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow the dread rising like a lump in his throat. His index finger picked at the skin against the side of his thumb, pulling away a patch of skin from the nail bed. Riley continued talking until they made it home, but Marrok couldn't focus on a word. If the non-committal grunts of acknowledgement from Marrok bothered him, Riley didn't say anything.

When the truck turned onto 22nd Street, Marrok's brow wrinkled with confusion. "You made a wrong turn."

"We have some time to kill before we need to be home," Riley said. "You didn't eat dinner earlier, so I'll buy you something. Consider it an apology for my team having to treat you so rough."

The thought of eating made Marrok's stomach turn. "I'm not hungry."

Riley's eyebrow raised as he glanced at him before turning his attention back to the road. "Sure, you're not."

Sensing no room for argument, Marrok leaned back against the seat and stared at the passing scenery. The city ranged from older to newer buildings, but there was no wasted space. Sometimes Marrok felt confined behind the towering walls, as if he were in a jail cell, but he understood the necessity. Beyond the wall was unknown territory. Excluding the marked trade trails leading toward other walled cities, people knew little about the outside world other than what history books salvaged before World War 3 mentioned.

A few minutes later, Riley pulled into Remi's Diner, and they exited the truck. Walking through the doors, Marrok's stomach betrayed him by growling at the aroma of food wafting through the building. There weren't many people seated since it was late, and a waitress guided them to a table and handed them menus. After the waitress left, another one noticed the two customers and waved before walking over to them.

"Hey, guys," she said. "The usual? I can put the order in."

"You know us well," Riley said. "Thanks Sam."

"No problem. I'll bring it to you in a bit."

As she walked away, Marrok noticed Riley watching her. Rolling his eyes, Marrok leaned against the cushioned booth seat. "Seriously, just ask her out already. You're not getting any younger."

Riley's head snapped back toward Marrok as the blush crawled up his neck. "Who?"

Marrok scoffed. "Samantha. You know, the girl that lived next to us until a few years ago. The one you've had a crush on since high school."

"Keep your voice down." Riley hissed as he looked around for any sign of her. "Besides, she's not interested."

"How do you know that when you haven't asked her?"

"I didn't bring you here for a lecture on my sex life."

"No, you brought me here to get my mind off of that test," Marrok said. "That's what I'm doing. You're twenty-six years old, not some elementary schoolkid."

Before Riley could reply, Samantha returned with their drinks and set them down on the table. "Alright, a lemon-lime soda and cherry cola. The food will be here in about thirty minutes." She looked at Marrok and pointed at the bruises appearing on his body. "Let me guess, your test was tonight."

Marrok winced. "Yeah, but let's not talk about that."

Riley sat down the glass of soda he'd sipped. "Yes, let's talk about that. Marrok's worrying over nothing. I'm willing to bet the ones who didn't run away will end up passing."

Dang him. He's just trying to get me off the subject of Samantha.

Marrok took a drink of the cherry cola and ignored the two as they talked about him. After another minute of talking, one of her co-workers called Samantha back to the kitchen. Marrok placed the glass on the table with a sigh.

"See," Marrok said. "Both of you ganged up on me. You were made for each other."

Riley shrugged but didn't deny the claim. Once their food arrived, they ate in silence. Before they left, Samantha returned to their booth with a check and a piece of cake. She placed the dessert in front of Riley along with the check.

"I didn't order this," Riley said.

Samantha smiled. "It's on the house. Make sure to share with your brother if he passes his test. I couldn't sneak two out of the kitchen."

Riley nodded. "Thanks."

After she moved to another table, Riley pointed at Marrok. "Stop grinning like that. It was a nice gesture, that's all."

"Yeah, sure, a hot woman just gave you your favorite cake for free. That's definitely just a 'nice gesture.'" Marrok made sure to include the air quotes as he rose from the seat. "Don't be surprised to find a love letter taped to the bottom of the container."

Marrok laughed when he caught Riley inspecting the bottom of the plastic container.

#

The engine died and Riley pulled the key from the ignition. Marrok's trembling fingers grasped the door handle, but he didn't leave the truck. They stayed silent for a few seconds before Riley broke it.

"I remember how nervous I was after my initiation test," Riley said. "As soon as I went into dad's office, he pointed out every mistake I made. He even had a video stream from the security cameras in the building. Man, talk about a lecture."

Marrok winced. His dad's lectures weren't long-winded, but they left an impact. It was one of the main reasons his dad became one of the RAM's top commanders. He was a man of few words, but people listened when he spoke.

"Yeah, but you're better than me at everything," Marrok said. "That lecture you got. Triple it and you'll have a roundabout idea of what he'll say to me."

"You can shoot a rifle better than I can."

"With a scope."

"So? You're still better than me. You'd make one heck of a sniper."

Marrok chose not to argue. Being a sniper was something he'd considered, but it kept people out of the throngs of battle. He trashed the idea; afraid his father would see him as a coward hiding behind a gun.

Riley opened the truck door and climbed out before turning to face him again. "Look, you're not me or dad. You don't have to be a close-range fighter like us. Snipers are important out in the field. If that's what you want to do, then do it. Don't let dad or anyone else stop you. Now stop lollygagging and go talk to him."

Marrok pulled the handle and opened the door. He stepped out with shaky legs and shut it behind him. He met Riley at the front of the truck and his brother threw an arm around his shoulders then led him inside. The living room couch tempted Marrok, but Riley nudged him toward their dad's office. Marrok looked back with a glare only to see Riley shooing him away as he took the piece of cake into the kitchen. With a small sigh of defeat, Marrok walked down the hallway and lingered in front of his dad's office door.

The wooden door wasn't meant to be intimidating, but Marrok's knuckles hovered over the solid surface. The hesitation made his chest tighter with each passing second. He closed his eyes and forced himself to knock.

"Come in."

Inhaling through his nose, Marrok turned the doorknob and stepped over the threshold. His dad sat at the wooden desk in the middle of the room with files scattered across the surface. The computer mouse clicked against his finger for a few more seconds before he finally sat back. Marrok couldn't tell anything from the expression on his dad's face, and the worry gnawed at his nerves like a dog with a bone.

"Close the door and have a seat," his dad said.

Marrok shut the door behind him and walked over to the chair that had been moved next to the computer chair. He sat down and waited for his father's disappointed scowl to appear. Silence descended upon the room as the mouse clicks started up again. Marrok looked down at the floor, afraid to look up at the computer screen.

"We'll go chronologically with this," Samuel said as he pulled up a timestamp on the video. "Look at this. Do you remember the group you ran into when the test started?"

Marrok looked up at the screen and saw the group of teens he'd first encountered. "They were looking for the Cursed One like it was a game to them."

"If they were civilians or your teammates, leaving them alone would risk their lives. You should've stayed with them, so you lost points for that. Never assume people will be okay. If something happens to them, their blood will be on your hands."

Marrok's eyes widened. "Will? Wait, you mean I passed?"

Samuel raised an eyebrow. "What made you think you didn't? Could you have done better? Yes, but the technical stuff can be picked up during training. We can't teach instinct, so everyone that stayed to fight is passing."

A weight lifted from Marrok's shoulders, and he sighed in relief. Finally, he could breathe again. The mouse clicked again, and another video popped up on the screen. Marrok turned his attention back to the monitor. Samuel pointed at the corner.

"You hesitated before helping Addamsen with the injured guy. In this field, you make split-second decisions. Whatever you choose will determine who lives and dies, so there's no room for doubt," Samuel closed out the window and turned toward him. "Other than that, you're not good at fighting close-range. I know you're more proficient with a gun, but we couldn't have any on site in case someone was shot. You worked well with the other participants, kept your head in the game, and didn't run away."

Marrok almost mistook the man's tone for a prideful one but told himself it couldn't be true. Samuel Silver was a man of stone. He did what needed to be done and said what needed said. Nothing more, nothing less. Samuel continued speaking.

"I've already assigned you to Team Thirteen. You'll meet Monday at the RAM headquarters on the first floor. Your mentor will explain everything you need to know, and I expect you to take her teaching seriously. She's also the best sniper we've had in the field."

Marrok's head snapped up. "You knew?"

"I know you're better than your brother and I when it comes to long distance shooting. Each team has two close range fighters, a mid-range fighter, and a sniper. You'll fill the sniper position on your team."

I'm surprised he paid that much attention. I thought he didn't care.

Samuel pulled out one of the desk drawers and retrieved a small box sitting inside. He handed it to Marrok, who took it without hesitation. Marrok knew what was inside, but he still couldn't believe it upon seeing the silver bullet sitting atop a white cloth. The dull silver wouldn't matter much to anyone other than those in the RAM, but to Marrok it was a symbol of his father's acceptance. Marrok held the bullet gently between his fingers as his dad spoke.

"What you do with the bullet is up to you. You can keep it or use it, but make sure it doesn't go to waste if used. This is your first silver bullet out of many, but it's a tradition we've passed down through the generations."

Marrok nodded and continued inspecting the metal. Silver bullets were reserved for RAM members and Elder City was able to create their own using materials found just outside the city walls. Even though they were abundant, normal civilians didn't have the privilege of purchasing them.

"If you leave with this bullet, you'll accept the burden of being a RAM Hunter," Samuel said. "With it, you vow to follow the commands of the RAM and kill all Cursed Ones you encounter, even if they're your friend or family. You also accept the responsibility of protecting the civilians and other RAM members. If bitten, you'll choose to die by your hand or another RAM member's, or give yourself up for research purposes. Do you understand?"

Marrok nodded, then realized his dad was waiting for a verbal agreement. "Yes."

Samuel rose to his feet and held out his hand. "Welcome to the RAM."

Marrok let his father pull him from the seat and shook his hand, sealing the oath. Finally, he was a RAM Hunter.

He'd achieved his dream.