"Forty-four… forty-five… forty-six…"
At the far end of the courtyard, Sarah lay on the ground, her legs bent and together, hands clasped behind her head. With sheer effort, she pushed herself up from the floor again and again.
A girl of the same age held down her legs, slowly counting each sit-up aloud. As the number rose, so did the girl's astonishment.
Sweat poured from Sarah, soaking her hair and shirt. Her face flushed red from exertion, her breathing growing ragged, her body trembling unconsciously from fatigue. Still, she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep going.
Finally, at fifty, after her last repetition, Sarah collapsed onto the mat like a deflated balloon, gasping for air. Her chest heaved rapidly.
"You... you're amazing. You're the first girl I've seen who actually finished all the exercises."
Once the training ended, the girl holding her legs finally snapped out of her shock. Her eyes shone with admiration.
She raised her hand and called out to the nearby black instructor:
"Officer! Over here!"
The instructor had already been watching them long before she spoke. Without hesitation, he walked over and asked directly:
"Name?"
"Sarah."
He flipped through the list on his clipboard until he found her line. Except for the sit-up section, which was still blank, all other boxes were marked with a check. This surprised him slightly.
Considering the physical differences between boys and girls, even if the training load for girls was somewhat lighter, it wasn't significantly reduced. This was the first time in three days that he'd seen a girl complete all tasks — and at just thirteen years old.
Still, he didn't dwell on it. He simply checked off the sit-up box with his pen and told Sarah:
"Not bad. Your training is done for today. You can either stay here and relax or leave."
Upon hearing this, everyone around cast envious glances toward Sarah.
With great effort, Sarah sat up. A dull pain shot through her arms, waist, and abdomen. Though her legs also ached, they weren't as bad as the rest of her body — thanks to prior conditioning.
"Th-thank you, officer!" She managed a weak smile at the instructor, then slowly stepped aside to free the space for others before turning to leave in search of a place to sit.
As Sarah stepped away from the crowd, a figure suddenly appeared beside her. Brian reached out, gently supporting her slouched posture and handing her a bottle full of water.
"Did it hurt badly?" he asked softly.
Recognizing his familiar presence, Sarah immediately leaned into him, resting her full weight against him.
"I'll be fine… Just need a bit of rest," she replied with difficulty.
Brian instinctively wrapped an arm around her as she leaned in. Seeing her pained expression, he felt a wave of sympathy. He brought the mouth of the bottle to her lips and said:
"Here, take a sip."
The water came from a nearby dispenser — cold, as was the habit. It wasn't that Brian didn't want warm water; it was just that Americans didn't really drink hot water. Even electric kettles were rare.
Brian never fully understood this cultural difference, but since everyone else drank it, he decided to adapt.
At first, he found it uncomfortable — though technically safe to drink, cold water always gave him a chilling sensation inside his stomach, lacking the comforting warmth of hot tea. But there was no choice but to get used to it gradually.
Slowly opening her mouth, Sarah looked at the bottle but didn't reach for it. Instead, she lifted her head slightly, as if waiting for something.
Brian shook his head with a faint smile. Without a word, he raised the bottle higher, tilting the angle carefully to let the water pour out.
"Gulp... gulp..."
Her throat moved as she drank slowly. The dryness on her lips faded under the cool stream. After finishing, she stuck out her tongue and licked her lips, visibly feeling better.
After moving around a bit, the two settled onto a bench on the side stands, watching the entire courtyard filled with sweating students. Despite the freezing cold, everyone's faces were drenched in sweat.
"Ugh, this training is killing me."
No sooner had she sat down than Sarah felt her entire body relax. Half-leaning on Brian, she complained:
"This exercise is way too brutal."
Then, as if recalling something, she turned her head and added:
"Did you notice? On the whole field, except for the instructors, there isn't a single person older than sixteen. I even asked around — the oldest kid here is only fifteen. Do you know why that is?"
"Hmm? Since when do you care about these things?"
Hearing her question, Brian felt a little surprised. He knew Sarah well enough to know she rarely paid attention to such matters. That she would ask something like this now genuinely intrigued him.
"I didn't know either, until Lucy told me."
Noticing Brian's questioning tone, Sarah explained:
"When she arrived at the school, she saw many older kids. But during classroom assignments, they were taken elsewhere and disappeared completely. No one has seen them since. That's why I started asking questions."
"Lucy?"
"Ahh! The girl who held my legs during the sit-ups."
"Oh…"
Subconsciously stroking his chin, Brian shifted his gaze toward the courtyard, trying to find the girl who had spoken to Sarah.
He was curious — was it intentional or accidental that Lucy revealed this information? And what purpose might she have had?
"Hmm?"
Sarah waited a while for Brian to respond, but none came. Lifting her head from his shoulder in confusion, she saw he was lost in thought.
This made her feel annoyed at first, but soon, a mischievous smile formed on her lips. Suddenly, she hugged his arm tightly, staring at him with big, sparkling eyes and using a sweet, childish tone:
"Pleeease tell me~!"
That sudden action jolted Brian back to reality. When he turned his head and saw her cute, teasing expression, he felt his cheeks heat up uncontrollably. His heart pounded, and he stammered slightly:
"W-what are you doing? G-get off!"
"Haahhaaa~!"
Seeing Brian so flustered for the first time, Sarah couldn't hold back her laughter. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she cackled loudly.
Hearing her unrestrained laughter, Brian merely glanced sideways at her, instantly realizing he had been tricked. But rather than getting angry, he stayed silent, waiting patiently for her to finish.
"..."
After laughing for a while without reaction from Brian, Sarah eventually quieted down, like a flower wilting in the cold. Her lips pursed slightly as she muttered:
"You're so boring..."
When Sarah's laughter died down, Brian finally answered her earlier question:
"Although I'm not entirely sure, I can make some guesses."
He placed both hands on the bench, leaning back slightly as he continued:
"The Atlanta Quarantine Zone must be in a fragile state. Otherwise, they wouldn't be calling for reinforcements from other zones. This morning, when we entered, I took a look at all the checkpoints. Each had more than a dozen soldiers stationed there. So it's not a lack of military strength — maybe even a surplus. The real issue must be population-related. This zone is probably suffering from a serious labor shortage, which is why every resident is required to work daily."
"During lunch break, I gathered some intel. Besides preparing for future convoy arrivals and upcoming maintenance tasks, the army definitely won't engage in large-scale conflicts with the infected anytime soon. At most, they'll send out small groups to collect supplies."
"And without any major external threats, the soldiers inside the quarantine zone shouldn't suffer heavy casualties."
"The surplus of soldiers means the zone won't be drafting students from the school anytime soon. These seventeen- or eighteen-year-olds are clearly older than us. The zone urgently needs skilled professionals — they can't afford to let anyone spend five or six years studying complex subjects."
"But they can't use them as regular laborers either. My guess is that those older students were sent somewhere special to learn fast-tracked, essential skills. With the next convoys arriving soon — bringing tens of thousands — the labor shortage will naturally resolve itself. What the zone lacks now are specialists . In short, the military's strategy for the school is likely focused on quality, not quantity."