Hustle & Loyalty

The bus ride was silent. Daniel was seated in the back seat, while Alexa sat in the passenger seat. Tonye was driving.

The Viking glared out the window. Ramatla sat with their arms folded and eyes cold, their breathing extremely shallow, as if they were operating on low-power mode. Mostafa sat forward, hands clasped together in prayer. Vités tapped his feet and fidgeted in his seat. They were effectively boxed in.

The bus stopped in a forest outside of town. The rookies didn't need to be told to get off the bus. The rookies somberly hopped off, as did Alexa. She took a deep breath and started stretching, loosening up and bouncing on her feet.

"Okay, let's go!" She declared with her fist in the air.

The rookies all looked at her with confusion.

"What, you thought we were gonna make you run back by yourselves?" She asked, turning to face them.

A wave of relief washed over them, and then she turned away,

"We have a lot to do today and you guys would take way too long if we left you alone,"

A wave of dread crashed over them as she pointed at the hill on the horizon on which the Sammartino Centre stood, "I'm going to set the pace and you guys will either follow or pass me. Coach Daniel and Coach Tonye will follow us on the bus,"

Viking turned to see Daniel taking the driver's seat and Tonye moving to the passenger. Both of them snapped their fingers and pointed, warning him to pay attention.

Alexa continued, "No breaks, no stopping, 2 hours tops,"

"What?" Viking exclaimed as quietly as he could. Not quietly enough. As Mostafa and Vités looked at him with annoyance and panic respectfully, while Ramatla remained focused.

The newly-risen sun's glare bounced off Alexa's glasses and onto his face, "Is something wrong?"

"No, Coach," He said, flinching from the light.

She placed her hands on her hips, "If you have something to say, just say it,"

"How are we going to get back in 2 hours, on foot?" He asked, quickly adding, "Coach,"

The light left her glasses and she smiled, "Oh, that's easy. Just remember that Daniel is driving,"

Mostafa and Vités both turned to see the Irishman in the driver's seat of the bus, staring holes into both of them. They quickly faced front once again.

Alexa began to jog on the spot, "Now, limber up. Don't want to pull something,"

Ramatla immediately began stretching. Vités took a breath and followed suit.

Mostafa took several deep breaths before limbering up as well. Viking growled, which didn't escape Alexa's notice as she continued to jog on the spot.

She began to pick up the pace, her feet hitting the ground with the rhythm of a motorcycle engine and kicking up dust. Daniel started the bus's actual engine.

Mostafa gulped.

(Ah crap. She's going all out.)

As well-conditioned as he was, his strength lay in his leaping ability. Trying to keep up with the Velocity Vixen was not something he was ever prepared for.

Vités crouched, ready to go.

(I always wondered if I was as fast as Coach Alexa.)

Ramatla continued to stretch staring straight ahead.

(I will overcome this.)

Viking rotated his shoulders and neck.

(Let's just get this over with.)

"You guys, ready?" Alexa called out.

"Yes, Coach!" They replied.

"Remember," Tonye advised from within the bus, "No matter what, don't stop!"

"You run until your legs fall off and then use your hands the rest o' the way!" Daniel yelled, before slamming his hand on the horn, "Get mahvin!"

"Let's goooo!" Called the increasingly distant voice of Alexa. Daniel wasted 0 time in making the bus turn around and begin chasing the rookies, loudly honking the horn.

Vités pulled ahead immediately, eager to catch up with Alexa.

"What are you doing?!" Mostafa called after him, "You're gonna burn yourself out!"

Vités wasn't listening, however, Ramatla was able to catch up to him before he got too far ahead and grabbed him by the back of his singlet,

"Slow down," They urged, forcing him to do so along with them, "We can't afford to exhaust ourselves too early,"

"But-" He said, watching Alexa was getting further away, "-she said we've only got two hours.

"Two hours, not two minutes," Ramatla warned, "This is only going to get worse," The engine of the bus revved behind the group as if two emphasised their point, "Pace. Yourself,"

Vités groaned in protest, before slowing down and running alongside Ramatla. The Cyborg and Speedster then allowed Mostafa to catch up with them,

"We have to move with a rhythm," He said. He looked over his shoulder to see The Viking trailing behind, the bus hot on his heels, "All of us,"

Vités groaned even louder as Alexa got even further away, but fell back all the same.

"Piss off! I don't need your pity," is what the big man wanted to say before he felt his ankles hit the bumper of the bus.

He instead picked up the pace and joined the pack without a word. The terrain was rough, uneven and rookies struggled to find a pace that they could all keep, with the bus right behind them, forcing them to slowly increase it.

They eventually found the rhythm that Mostafa spoke of, but time and distance passed without the Centre getting any closer. The midday sun beat down on them and their trainee wrestling gear wasn't designed for it.

The Viking in his single strap ceiling was already breathing heavily, his large body starting to feel stiff. Mostafa was only wearing shorts and they were hot, sticky and uncomfortable. Not as much as Vités' singlet which covered his entire torso, but that wasn't what was bothering him.

It was how slow the others were and how much mental effort it was taking to not pull ahead and try to catch up with Alexa. Ramatla, in their sleeveless crop top and trunks, was the only one whose composure was maintained, moving like a, well, a machine.

More time and distance passed, and the route took on an upward incline. Despite this, the bus didn't slow down, so neither could the rookies.

Both Viking and Mostafa both felt like their legs were going to explode. Vités was starting to legitimately tired, grateful that he needed Ramatla's advice. The cyborg was still cool as a cucumber, at least outwardly.

Alexa came back, then ran backwards with high knees. She was still so full of energy, "Come on, guys! You're doing great. Halfway there,"

"Halfway..." Viking muttered.

"HALFWAY!" She excitedly yelled before turning around while never dropping speed, "Let's go into next gear,"

Now, it was Mostafa's turn to mutter, "Next gear?"

"NEXT GEAR!" Alexa yelled even louder, only to be drowned by the roars of the bus and Daniel who was now actively chasing them,

"NEXT GEAR!" He exclaimed.

The rookies all felt a spike of adrenaline that pushed them forward. All talk of keeping a rhythm went out the window and Vités stopped holding back. He broke from the pack and rushed past Alexa. The sun's glare shone off her glasses, obscuring her expression as she watched him go.

Viking gritted his teeth as he felt the stitch in his side and began to trail behind the group. He could feel the heat of the bus' engine on the back of his legs and it took everything he had to stay ahead of it.

(That little...)

Mostafa was doing marginally better, but he could feel the burn in his chest and sweat pouring out of him,

(Dammit, I'm not going to make it.)

Ramatla stayed by his side, "Focus on your breathing and your steps,"

"Some of us aren't half machine," He replied with each laboured breath.

"My heart and lungs are no different from yours," Ramatla coolly countered.

Mostafa couldn't tell if he was crying or sweating through his eyes, "I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Ramatla insisted, "You are the alpha male of our species, remember?"

"Yeah..." He said, feeling a fire ignite inside that powered him forward, "Yeah! I am the alpha male of our species,"

It didn't take long for the group to catch up with Vités, who was on the verge of burning himself out. Alexa passed and looked at him, the sheen on her glasses still hiding her expression as she went.

She was followed by Mostafa, who was repeating the phrase "alpha male" over and over, and Ramatla, who gave the speedster an "I told you so" look. Eventually, he was side-by-side with the Viking, who was as red as a tomato and probably hearing valkyries.

Daniel was still hot on their heels, giving them just enough space to think they were safe and close enough to remind them that they weren't. Tonye sat quietly, having studied every move the rookies made all the way back to the Sammartino Centre.

Alexa stopped in the parking lot and took a few deep breaths with her hands on her hips. Her face looked flushed from the effort. Mostafa and Ramatla came up behind her, the former falling to his knees and the latter letting hot steam through their nose, mouth and ears.

Vités came up behind, tripping over his own feet, but catching himself. The Viking nearly fell down face first, breathing heavily and ready to vomit. All of their bodies were shaking, but they did it. They made it.

The sound of the bus horn spooked the lot of them, save for Ramatla. Daniel and Tonye hopped off,

"Get up! We ain't done," He declared, walking past them, "That was a warm-up, remember?"

"Give them 10, Daniel," Tonye quietly urged. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the old luchador's mask and what little they could see of his expression betrayed no empathy as he passed them.

"They get 5," Daniel said, coldly before entering the Centre.

"5 it is then," Tonye agreed.

"Dammit," Viking grumbled again, which caught Tonye's attention.

"Minus 4…" The old luchador declared before going back inside.

The big man looked up to see his fellow rookies glaring at him. The Coaches were already inside, no doubt preparing their next trial.