Jack Boomer's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Jack stepped into the Rangers' training gym before dawn. The air smelled like rubber mats and sweat. He needed to learn how real soldiers moved under pressure. A heavy bag hung in the corner, wrapped in duct tape. He watched it sway slightly in the draft from the ventilation system. Combat medics had to understand the fight before they could save fighters. Jack circled the bag, studying the scuff marks left by hundreds of strikes. He threw a punch. His knuckles stung on impact. Pain shot up his forearm. He shook out his hand and tried again. This time he aimed lower and followed through. The bag rocked back. He needed strong hands to drag wounded men to safety. After an hour, Jack headed to the reinforced military medical school on the north end of the compound. The building stood three stories tall with concrete walls and narrow windows. Inside, the training rooms simulated real battlefield conditions. Smoke machines filled the corridors. Speakers blasted recorded gunfire and explosions. Jack entered the trauma bay and found a training instructor waiting. The man pointed to a dummy on the floor. "You've got incoming," he shouted over the noise. Jack dropped to his knees and started his assessment. His hands moved through the steps while the floor vibrated from simulated blasts. The smoke burned his eyes, but he kept working. Outside the school, Jack found a metal storage cabinet bolted to the wall. He opened the glass doors and examined the shelves inside. This would hold his backup supplies. He loaded extra bandages, splints, and tourniquets onto each level. Everything had its place. He organized the items so he could grab what he needed without looking. Next to the cabinet stood a wash station with a foot pump and a basin. Jack tested it, pressing the pedal until water flowed. Clean hands meant clean wounds. He scrubbed his palms and watched the water drain away. Out here, he could treat multiple patients and stay ready for the next one. Jack walked back to his field pavilion as the sun rose. His knuckles still ached from the heavy bag. His lungs still felt tight from the smoke room. But he understood more now. Combat medics worked in chaos. They had to stay calm when everything around them exploded. He checked his supplies one more time, then sat on the edge of a cot. The Rangers would test him soon. When they did, he'd be ready.