Uncle Skip asks, grabbing my arm so I can’t get away. “I’m fine,” I say. “Like hell.” He touches my jaw with one finger, turning my face to look at the scratches and bruised cheek. “Your dad seen this?” “Yeah.” I pull free and continue to the front counter. “And?” Uncle Skip asks, following me. “And what?” I say, sitting down and getting ready to take the messages off voice mail. “I tripped during training. No big deal.” Except I tripped over Zach’s foot, so, not so much of an accident. But to call him out would be to play right into his hands. Besides, I beat all those assholes on the timed hike and successfully evaded them on the scouting exercise. All in all, I’m fine with it. “I’m fine. Really. Just training.” Serious training. If only they focused more on survival and mobile readiness, it would be perfect training. But it’s better than nothing, and Riggs does seem to be adding more skills training. “Just be careful.” I roll my eyes, but he catches my sleeve.
