Carly held her temper. She wasn’t going to let Crazy
Woman provoke her. “I would like to know,” Carly said in the calmest voice she was able to manage, “what you have against
me. You’ve been on my case since day one. What is it with you?”
Alex stared at her. “You’re the kind of witch who makes me sick. With your Calvin Klein jeans and T-shirt, your Nikes, and
those diamond earrings. What are you doing here? You know you don’t belong here.”
Carly tried to take this in. “You’re mad at me about my clothes? Are you out of your mind?”
“You didn’t have to enlist in this frigging army like I did, just to get away.” Suddenly Alex’s eyes filled with tears. “You
could have gone anywhere, done anything.”
Carly recognized on one level that Alex was acting out the total exhaustion they all felt; the recruits carried it around
like a huge load on their backs and their emotions. But Alex hadn’t been exhausted when she’d chosen Carly as her target in
the reception hall. “You are wacko.”
“You don’t belong here,” Alex said, wiping her tears away with her fingers. “Rich people have all the money, and they get
all the breaks.”
Carly watched with horror as the young woman began sobbing right in front of her. Obviously boot camp had drained Crazy Woman,
and she was coming undone. Carly didn’t want to be there watching it.
Across the room, one dryer stopped. Carly steered her cart around Alex and headed for it.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” Alex shouted.
“You don’t like me. We all get that,” Carly called over her shoulder. “But I have laundry to do, and I’m
not
fighting with you.” Carly met another soldier, a stranger, at the dryer who quickly unloaded her clothes and headed for a
folding table like a woman running from a storm.
“I’ve had it with your too-good-for-the-rest-of-us attitude!” Alex yelled. She charged Carly from behind.
Carly turned in time to meet the attack.
Alex went berserk. That was the only way to describe it. She pulled Carly’s clean clothes out of the cart and threw them on
the floor. She moved as if to stomp on them with her dusty combat boots. The final insult.
Carly went on autopilot. Without planning to, she assumed her fighting stance and launched herself at Alex.
CHAPTER FIVE
L orelle’s voice penetrated the roaring in Carly’s ears. “Carly, listen to me.
Stop it. Stop
.”
“Is she gonna kill her?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
“No,” Lorelle snapped.
The word “kill” got through to Carly. She blinked, dissipating the red haze that surrounded her.
Then she realized that she was sitting astride Alex. She had Alex’s shirt collar twisted in her fist. Carly realized that
she’d just banged the girl’s head on the floor. Shocked, Carly released her grip and slid backward till her seat hit the hard
linoleum floor. Her breathing was a deep, frantic heaving.
Alex didn’t move. She lay still, faceup, as if stunned.
Lorelle was kneeling on the gray linoleum beside Carly. “Take it easy. Calm down. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
Carly felt sick. She rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”
Lorelle began stroking Carly’s back like a mother comforting a child. “You’d finally had enough of her. You started out with
that martial arts stuff you do but once you got her down . . . you went a little berserk.”
“Is she hurt?” Carly nodded toward her opponent, feeling a fluttery, panicky regret. “Did I . . . hurt her?”
One of the soldiers that ringed the trio in the center of the room knelt down at Alex’s side. “She’s breathing. Man, we thought
you were going to kill her.”
Carly hid her face in her hands. How had it come to this? A shiver shuddered through her. “I’ve never lost control like that
before.”
Feet pounded up the steps and into the laundry room. “What’s going on here?” a sharp feminine voice demanded.
Carly twisted around and saw that
Woman provoke her. “I would like to know,” Carly said in the calmest voice she was able to manage, “what you have against
me. You’ve been on my case since day one. What is it with you?”
Alex stared at her. “You’re the kind of witch who makes me sick. With your Calvin Klein jeans and T-shirt, your Nikes, and
those diamond earrings. What are you doing here? You know you don’t belong here.”
Carly tried to take this in. “You’re mad at me about my clothes? Are you out of your mind?”
“You didn’t have to enlist in this frigging army like I did, just to get away.” Suddenly Alex’s eyes filled with tears. “You
could have gone anywhere, done anything.”
Carly recognized on one level that Alex was acting out the total exhaustion they all felt; the recruits carried it around
like a huge load on their backs and their emotions. But Alex hadn’t been exhausted when she’d chosen Carly as her target in
the reception hall. “You are wacko.”
“You don’t belong here,” Alex said, wiping her tears away with her fingers. “Rich people have all the money, and they get
all the breaks.”
Carly watched with horror as the young woman began sobbing right in front of her. Obviously boot camp had drained Crazy Woman,
and she was coming undone. Carly didn’t want to be there watching it.
Across the room, one dryer stopped. Carly steered her cart around Alex and headed for it.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” Alex shouted.
“You don’t like me. We all get that,” Carly called over her shoulder. “But I have laundry to do, and I’m
not
fighting with you.” Carly met another soldier, a stranger, at the dryer who quickly unloaded her clothes and headed for a
folding table like a woman running from a storm.
“I’ve had it with your too-good-for-the-rest-of-us attitude!” Alex yelled. She charged Carly from behind.
Carly turned in time to meet the attack.
Alex went berserk. That was the only way to describe it. She pulled Carly’s clean clothes out of the cart and threw them on
the floor. She moved as if to stomp on them with her dusty combat boots. The final insult.
Carly went on autopilot. Without planning to, she assumed her fighting stance and launched herself at Alex.
CHAPTER FIVE
L orelle’s voice penetrated the roaring in Carly’s ears. “Carly, listen to me.
Stop it. Stop
.”
“Is she gonna kill her?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
“No,” Lorelle snapped.
The word “kill” got through to Carly. She blinked, dissipating the red haze that surrounded her.
Then she realized that she was sitting astride Alex. She had Alex’s shirt collar twisted in her fist. Carly realized that
she’d just banged the girl’s head on the floor. Shocked, Carly released her grip and slid backward till her seat hit the hard
linoleum floor. Her breathing was a deep, frantic heaving.
Alex didn’t move. She lay still, faceup, as if stunned.
Lorelle was kneeling on the gray linoleum beside Carly. “Take it easy. Calm down. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
Carly felt sick. She rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”
Lorelle began stroking Carly’s back like a mother comforting a child. “You’d finally had enough of her. You started out with
that martial arts stuff you do but once you got her down . . . you went a little berserk.”
“Is she hurt?” Carly nodded toward her opponent, feeling a fluttery, panicky regret. “Did I . . . hurt her?”
One of the soldiers that ringed the trio in the center of the room knelt down at Alex’s side. “She’s breathing. Man, we thought
you were going to kill her.”
Carly hid her face in her hands. How had it come to this? A shiver shuddered through her. “I’ve never lost control like that
before.”
Feet pounded up the steps and into the laundry room. “What’s going on here?” a sharp feminine voice demanded.
Carly twisted around and saw that
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