The next morning, Jeremy rose at five thirty and headed to the back of the house to wait on Avon. He intentionally did not pound on her door on the way past. Six o'clock came and went and Avon had not arrived. At eight minutes after the hour, she came running out the door pulling on her shoes.
"Six-O-eight," Jeremy growled marking the time.
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," Avon cried as if begging for her life.
Jeremy did not respond. He walked over to her rucksack and opened it. Slowly and deliberately he added eight more pounds to her pack, one pound at a time.
"What the ..." Avon started but quickly closed her mouth.
"Every minute equals a pound. You're up to twenty-two pounds," Jeremy announced. Jeremy could see Avon's horror. As she fought back the tears, he saw her bottom lip quiver. "It's time to go Cadet. We’re doing three miles today - one way."
As soon as Avon took her first step the first tear betrayed her. Jeremy tried to ignore the tears. He was after all supposed to be a hard-core soldier. He was sure Avon had used her tears to manipulate more than one situation. He knew he could not back down or show compassion or remorse. However, six miles of running would be torture for both him and Avon.
"You need to regulate your breathing," Jeremy instructed. "It will make it easier for your body to oxygenate your blood and feed your muscles."
Avon fought to dry her tears; to breathe normally. However, the harder she tried, the harder it became. "What was it like growing up in the mansion?" Jeremy asked hoping Avon talking would help her to breathe normally and distract her from the run.
"Do you really care?" Avon seethed. Her disdain for Jeremy spewed forward like poison from a cobra.
"I'm just trying to help," Jeremy replied in a soft tone. "I remember how hard my first months were. It took a while for me to build up my stamina and strength. I was thin and I had to build myself up from nothing much like you are doing now. I didn't have someone to mentor me, to help me. I had to figure everything out myself. I just thought I would share what worked for me."
"What would be talking about my childhood have anything to do with your workout regiment?" Avon nearly screamed.
"I would sing," Jeremy replied a bit embarrassed. "I would run with music playing and sing at the top of my lungs. Of course, I would run when no one else was around. I'm not a very good singer."
"You want me to sing?"
"No, I want you to talk, chant, anything to get you breathing normally. How about we do a cadence?"
"A Jody song?" Avon sneered. "They're so sexist."
"Of course they are," Jeremy laughed. "They keep the guys in high spirits."
"I hate them."
"Of course you do. Come on, just one. I'll start."
Avon nearly came to a halt. She hated the cadence which had been sung for centuries. Before she could express her hatred, Jeremy had started to sing. "I don't know, but it's been said, Glorcan girls will warm your bed."
"Sexist!" Avon spat.
"You have a better one?" Jeremy laughed.
"I don't know, but it's been said, Zarcon soldiers will knock you dead."
"Okay, no sexual innuendos," Jeremy acquiesced. "But how many miles can you go singing one line over and over?"
"Hopefully three miles if we are singing Row Row Row Your Boat."
"Start singing then," Jeremy stated with his head cocked. "You first."
Avon started and Jeremy joined in. At the end of three miles Jeremy stopped. "It's time to turn around and head back to the house. Remember, next week we start working on time. You need to run six miles in full pack in forty-two minutes. That's a seven-minute mile. And that's just to pass the evaluation. I'm going for a five-minute mile. Hope you can keep up."
Without warning, Jeremy started sprinting back to the house. "Let's go princess. I'm hungry."
Avon took a deep breath and started running. Even though her pack weighed much less than Jeremy's, she still had a difficult time catching up with him. She could see him move further and further ahead of her. She could see him turning around occasionally to see where she was. She noticed he wasn't even running at his full speed. She knew she was in trouble. She knew he was going to prod her day after day to meet his standards. She knew she would collapse before she arrived at the mansion.
Avon arrived back at the mansion more than fifteen minutes after Jeremy. Each step, each stride down the long drive towards the house was slow and laborious. She saw Jeremy standing in the doorway with his stopwatch. She noticed he had already changed clothes; he had had enough time to enter the sanitation stall while waiting for her. She was envious. She could feel the sweat rolling down her face and chest. She could feel the puddle of water which had accumulated in the small cleavage of her chest. She wanted nothing more than to be clean and dry and in fresh clothing.
Stumbling the last few feet, Avon allowed the pack to fall off her shoulders. "No time to shower, princess," Jeremy chuckled. "Breakfast is getting cold. We have weight training. Then you can clean up."
"But..." Avon started to argue but slowly remembered Jeremy was now her superior officer.
Jeremy took pity on her for just a moment; a very short moment and handed her a bottle of water. "Drink up princess."