Beginning of Chapter 1

Hi, this is the opening of my first draft. I'm not sure if it's intriguing enough? Any comments are much appreciated.

Regards,

Evangeline

The gun was warm in his hand, his clammy palm making the butt slippery beneath his fingers. Sweat pool at the base of his spine. Sucking in a stuttering breath, he refused to let it back out, worried it would hamper his aim. This was it. This was his chance. This was the time to finally make his father proud. 

 All he had to do was hit the bullseye. 

 A second past. His heart pounded. The clock tocked. His elbow cocked. Feet scuffed. Safety off. Fingers trembled. Pulling the trigger, he slammed his eyes closed, the gunshot resounding around the room as the gun kicked back into his had jarring his shoulder even with his elbow bent in preparation for the blow. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, landing on the still intact target. 

 "Miles, do you even listen when I speak?"

 The voice came from behind him, forcing Miles to shift his gaze from his terribly blank dummy, to land on Evelyn, her face folded in her usual scowl that she saved just for him. With her auburn hair scrapped back in a tight knot, arms folded without obstructing the Captain badge pinned to her chest, Miles imagined this was what his mom would have looked like; Evelyn must have got her looks from somewhere and it wasn't from their father. With his golden hair, light, caramel skin and honey - glazed brown eyes, framed by dark lashes that cast patterned shadows on his high and angular cheek bones, Miles was a carbon copy of his dad. Miles often contemplated whether Evelyn was adopted. 

 "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

 Evelyn's eyes hardened, their usual stormy grey turning icy, causing spindly fingers of unease to trail up his spine, wracking Miles' muscles and making the gun shiver in his grip. Rolling her eyes, Evelyn darted forward, snatching the 9mm easily out of his hand and thumbed on the safety, never removing her glare from Miles keeping him pinned like a butterfly to a board. 

 "You think this is funny?" his sister demanded, grasp on the gun clenching. "You have shamed all of us! The other Captains are laughing out there. The General's son shooting with his eyes closed? What were you thinking?"

 Miles huffed in annoyance. "I panicked, okay? And what does it matter anyway? I came top in everything else."

 "You think that changes anything? I'm the one that taught you to shoot!"

 "You ever think maybe you're just a terrible teacher?" Miles questioned almost absently. 

 "Sorry to burst your bubble, Miles, but your partner just got herself into Company A."

 For the first time, Miles' cockiness began to waver. Tamara must have passed with flying colours to earn a place in Company A, Evelyn's Company, the most respected Company, the Company that went so deep into the woods they slept in abandoned buildings outside the Wall, like no other Company got to do. The Company Miles needed to get into. Unfortunately, Evelyn's steely expression vanquished any doubt; Miles hadn't made the cut. A feeling of dread started to seep through Miles. He could already hear the slurs, that the general's son was unable to make it into Company A, even though his undertrained partner did. Sometimes he despised being General Drey's son. 

 Crossing his arms in an attempt to give himself an air of authority although it gave him more the appearance of a petulant child, Miles shoved his alarm deep down. "So? Quit stalling. What Company did I get into?"

 "Miles, your shot went completely wild," Evelyn snapped, only the worrying of her lip between her teeth revealing her concern. 

 "And?"

 "And you didn't pass." When Miles still looked blank, Evelyn tried again. "You didn't get into any Company. No regiment is prepared to take you!"

 Silence consumed the room, seeping into the fissures in the walls, seizing the inhabitants in its malevolent grasp until no words fluttered on the vacant air, the morose, melancholy mantra manifesting in Miles' mind the sole relief from the forsaken quiet. With each passing moment, Miles felt as if he was inching closer to the edge of a precipice, a terrible hurtling fall into nothing and nowhere. He hadn't made it into the Army. He had no purpose anymore. Vertigo gripped Miles' stomach, his ears ringing. 

 "What?!"

 The word sliced through the silence, the previous stillness splintering around them. Something appeared to break inside Evelyn at the raw emotion in Miles' voice and she hastily shoved the gun into her belt before stumbling forward with an outstretched arm that only fell to her side when Miles scrambled backwards, a wounded look crossing Evelyn's features. 

 "Miles-"

 Her little brother cut her off almost immediately. "What do I do now? I'm not in the army. Do I have to go live in civilian quarters? Do I get to try again? Will I ever see you guys again? Get to hold a gun? Will I ever get to go up outside the Wall? What happens now, Evelyn?!"

 "Listen," Evelyn pleaded, real sympathy laced into her voice. "I managed to convince them to give you a guarding position-"

 The hollowness inside Miles was rapidly flooded by a wave of exhilaration, the terror and the unknown washed away from the glow of hope Evelyn had given him. 

 "Thank you!"

 Momentarily forgetting that there were others watching, Miles tackled the older girl into a hug. Evelyn's arms remained stiff at her sides, acutely aware of the prying eyes. However, a small smile spread across her lips. When Miles pulled back, his face was spilt in a wild grin, eyes dancing with euphoria. 

 "This is amazing," Miles gushed. "I mean, of course I'd rather be in a regiment but I can try again next year and I know you must have tried so hard to get me a guarding position. And in some ways, it's even better than being in a regiment because no one knows the soldiers in regiments, not really. But if you're guarding the Wall people will see your face and know your name and I am so gonna be famous. Thank you, sis!"

 He extended his arms as if to give Evelyn another hug but this time she was prepared, shoving Miles back a step. "Let me finish. You'll be guarding the orphanage."

 The excitement of seconds before began to fade and Miles felt himself slipping back into the darkness. 

 "The orphanage? But that's inside the Wall."

 "Yes, Miles it is. And you should be grateful you're guarding it. If it wasn't for me, you'd be packing your things and walking your sorry ass over to civilians’ quarters and you would spend the rest of your life never going up outside the Wall and knowing what the sun feels like on your face like the rest of them. You still have a chance to try again next year. So, stop complaining and start being grateful."

 "But you were already a sergeant by the time you were 14!" Miles was aware he sounded peevish but the words kept spilling from his lips. 

 "I could hit a target when I was 14!"

 Miles was speechless, his mouth forming silent remarks as his brain failed to supply the necessary arguments. 

 "Stop it," Evelyn snapped, her patience wearing thin. "No more bickering. You failed to make the regiment and I managed to get you a position guarding the orphanage. End of discussion."

 Thoughts swirled in his head, but Miles sealed his lips, reluctantly accepting his fate. Refusing to let Evelyn feel like she'd won completely, Miles stormed out of the room without being dismissed. Throwing open the door, he collided with a whirlwind of ginger hurtling towards the room he'd just vacated. Hands going out to her shoulders automatically, Miles steadied the girl glancing down at her. Tamara frowned back, her emerald eyes glowing in the dim light of the tunnel. 

 "Hey, gingerbread," Miles smirked, his obnoxious demeanour slickly slipping back into place. "Heard you made the A Team."

  The freckles scrunched up on her nose as she smiled. "Yes! Isn't it great? Me! Tamara Hastings is in Company A. I'm going to get to go up, Miles. I'm going to see the world!"

 "The world is little ambitious, don't you think?"

 "Shut up," Tamara muttered, punching his arm causing Miles to wince. He could remember a time when that didn't hurt. "This is the best thing to ever happen to me. We're going to be such a good team. Evelyn- I mean, Captain Drey will put us on the same shifts, right?"

 "Actually," Miles began. "That's the thing. I'm not exactly in Company A. In fact, I'm not in any Company."

 "What?!" The red-head screeched. "But how is that possible? Seriously. You practically wiped out everyone in hand-to-hand combat. I heard that someone had heard General Drey say he had never seen anyone fight as well as you did. You even beat Todd in running and I've never met a guy with such a high pain tolerance as you."

 "That's quite offensive, gingerbread."

 "But it's true and you know it. All you boys think you're so tough but not one of you could deal with the pain of childbirth."

 "I swear to god, if you start lecturing me on the DNA structure of men and women one more time."

 Tamara just beamed up at him. 

 "Hey kiddos move along!"

 Captain Bilas fixed them with a hard stare at where they were still blocking the doorway. Unfortunately, before Miles could answer 'of course, sir,' Tamara matched the glare. 

 "It's Private Hastings now, sir."

 Luckily, Captain Bilas' lips quirked upwards. "Ah, yes. I'm very sorry. Private Hastings, do you mind heading back towards the Living quarters and can you take the kid with you?"

 Gritting his teeth, Miles allowed himself to be dragged down the corridor, Tamara's grip firm on his arm. He knew the taunts would be coming. He just hadn't expected them so soon. 

 Once they were out of earshot, Tamara released Miles, slowing her pace so they could walk side by side. 

 "Honestly, Miles, what happened? You did amazing in everything else. You would have had to have completely missed the entire target to not get chosen." When Miles didn't respond, Tamara took his silence as her answer. "You didn't! How on earth did you miss?"

 "Imayhaveclosedmyeyes," he gushed. 

 "In English?"

 Miles focused on counting the cracks in the floor as they walked. "I may have closed my eyes."

 "I'm sorry, you did what?" Tamara's jaw dropped open. "Are you crazy?"

 "Yes."

 Tamara yanked him to a halt as they rounded the corner of the corridor, jarring his shoulder. 

 "Ow. Why are you so violent?"

 "Can you drop the sarcasm for one second?" Tamara demanded and despite everything, Miles had never intended to make her mad and he felt a worm of guilt begin to crawl into his mind. He let his smirk fall. "I know you know how to shoot a gun. We had the lessons together. So, how on earth did you think it as okay to close your eyes?" 

 Miles shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "I don't know. I panicked, I guess."

 "You panicked? Over firing a gun? How many guns have you fired?"

 "Well," Miles scrunched up his forehead in thought. "We didn't shoot anything in the first lesson, I used the gun for half an hour in the second lesson and maybe an hour last week?"

 Miles hadn't thought Tamara's eyes could have got any wider. He was mistaken. 

 "You mean, you didn't practice shooting at all?"

 "Not particularly."

 Throwing up her hands, Tamara stalked off down the tunnel. After debating if it was best to stay away from the angry redhead, Miles scurried to keep up. For a long moment, they walked without speaking, their echoing footsteps the only sound penetrating the air. When Tamara finally glanced at him from beneath hooded eyes, she seemed more composed. 

 "If you didn't practice then you shouldn't be complaining. You only have yourself to blame."

 "Aren't you supportive?" Miles huffed. 

 "I'm realistic."

 Miles lifted an eyebrow which he knew infuriated her. "Sure. If realistic means rude."

 "I am not being rude. You didn't bother to practice. I spent hours in that room everyday while you were off with Todd or whoever doing god knows what. So, stop being all moody and get over yourself."

 "You've changed, gingerbread."

 Tamara's laughter twinkled in the air between them, the sound twirling around the corridor. "I guess I have."

 As they finally neared the familiar steel doors of the different common rooms, Tamara jerked her head at Miles, her face still alive with amusement. 

 "Although," she drawled. "I haven't changed too much to play a game of Mix Up."

 "Aren't we a little old to be playing that? I mean, swapping the girls and boys common room furniture to see how long it took till someone noticed was great when we were 8, but we're 14 now."

 "My dear friend," Tamara sighed in mock exasperation, shaking her head. "You are never too old to annoy a whole army battalion." Opening the door to the girls’ rooms, Miles could already see Tamara scanning the room for the most unnoticed furnishings. "Besides, you just found out you failed to make the army and Mix Up is your favourite game."

 Miles finally caved. "Hell yeah it is."

 "I know. Anyway, I'm thinking candle sticks first- let's start easy."

 "Right. Candle sticks it is."

 Ducking into the boys’ common room, Miles caught a final glance of Tamara, her face lit up in a smile...