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The Rising
“Alright, let’s get you set up for today,” Tasha said.
Three weeks since surgery. PT at last. She started by removing the knee brace from his right leg. Light pressure along the thigh registered faintly.
“KAFOs going on. Left leg first.”
Once the braces were fitted and secure, she slid a wrist supporter onto his right hand. Then she wheeled him toward the parallel bars at the center of the room.
“Still with me? This is the big one.”
“If by ‘big one,’ you mean ‘another round of humiliation,’ sure. Let’s do this.”
“C’mon. Can't be worse than losing to a raccoon.”
“At least I didn’t improvise with a forklift.”
“It worked better than you gave me credit for.”
“Sure it did. Just don’t do that to my chair.”
“Focus, boys. Matt, you ready?”
They were deep into the Gauntlet. RQC’s final test. The notorious twenty-four-hour endurance drill, built to break candidates long before it was over.
Mud clung to their boots. Their uniforms stuck to skin. Muscles stiffened, nerves frayed. There were hours left. The only way out was through.
Matt moved with determination. Fatigue pulled at him, but he buried it. His body followed a rhythm ingrained, each step landing clean.
Ben was spent. The quick humor and improvisation that got him through most challenges had since burned out. He flopped to his back past the crawling segment.
“This... is hell,” he said, panting. “Nobody said anything about hell.”
“They did. You just weren’t listening.”
“How are you even still going? You’re like some kind of robot.”
“I just keep moving. That’s the job. Get up. We’re behind.”
A groan, then Ben forced himself up, legs shaking as he hauled on his pack. He stumbled, caught his knee, stood again.
“You live for this drill sergeant crap, don’t you?”
Tasha knelt in front of him, looping the gait belt around his waist and tightening it.
“You’ll grip the bars for support and ease into standing. The goal is to hold as much of your weight as you can with your legs and core. We’re not rushing this. Just keep it steady.”
“Got it,” he said, eying the bars. First assisted standing attempt since the accident, and he couldn’t tell if he felt ready or just sick.
“Ready when you are,” Ben said.
“You know you don’t have to keep babysitting me.”
“Not babysitting. Just making sure you don’t outdo me again.”
“One problem at a time.”
His left hand gripped the bar. The right wasn’t as clean.
“Alright, on three,” Tasha said. “One... two... three.”
Matt pushed with his arms. His left held, but his right slipped slightly. The TLSO resisted every movement. His legs, locked in the KAFOs, dragged behind him.
“Come on,” he hissed. He leaned forward again, trying to force momentum, but his body didn’t respond. His right hand faltered, and his weight tilted hard to the side.
“Got you!” Ben said, though Tasha had already caught him at the waist.
“Easy! Don’t force it, Matt. Let’s guide you back.”
They lowered him back into the wheelchair. He hung on to the bars for a moment before letting go. His head dropped. He didn’t say anything.
“Ralston.”
A sharp call from the far end. Matt, already in position, jerked his chin toward the other end. Ben stalled a few paces back, swaying on his feet.
“I... can’t,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”
Matt measured Ben once. Without a word, he grabbed the mannequin and hoisted it onto his shoulders.
“Wait, what are you—”
“You’ve carried us this far with duct tape and adrenaline. Let me carry this.”
Ben stared at him, too tired to protest. He nodded, head low, and fell in behind.
The instructors shouted in the distance, but Matt didn’t hear them. The weight dug into his spine, every step a grind through mud and muscle.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “I can’t… It’s like my legs aren’t even mine anymore.”
“Matt, this isn’t failure. This is how strength comes back.”
“She’s right. You’re asking muscles that haven’t worked in months to carry the weight of the world. You’re still in the fight.”
He kept his eyes down. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“You are,” Ben said. “You’re not giving up. And you’re gonna get it on the next try.”
“Let’s reset. You know the drill. Take a breath, then we’ll go again.”
By the time the sun broke over the horizon, Squad Nine was a shadow of its former self. The recruits staggered across the finish line one by one, faces streaked with dirt and sweat.
Matt fumbled the mannequin to the ground, his grip nearly gone. He stayed bent forward, catching his breath in shallow gasps. Ben sank beside him, arms spread.
“Huh. You’re not a full machine after all.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“No chance of that. But... thanks. For not leaving me back there.”
Matt took his canteen and drank. “We’re partners. That’s what we do.”
“You carried me through that,” Ben said, rolling onto his side, easy now. “I owe you. Next time, I’m carrying you.”
“Next time,” he said dryly, a smile surfacing, “bring more duct tape.”
“Alright,” Matt said. “Let’s go again.”
They repositioned him, Tasha steadying him as he gripped the parallel bars.
“On three,” she said again. “One... two... three.”
This time, he leaned forward with deliberate force. His left hand locked firm on the bar, and the right pressed harder for balance. Tremors ran through his arms as he pushed up, lifting slowly from the wheelchair. The KAFOs held, joints clicking under the load.
“Good, Matt,” Tasha said. “That’s it. Keep going!”
Matt’s breath came in harsh bursts as he rose higher, his entire body trembling. Every inch felt like a battle. Pressure surged in his thighs—
The resistance stopped fighting him.
His legs took the weight.
He was standing. Fully standing.
“You’re up,” Ben said. “Look at you, holding it down.”
“I’m… doing it,” he rasped.
“You’re doing it,” Tasha said. “You’re holding your weight. Just a few more seconds. Keep it steady.”
He clenched his jaw, focus narrowing to the vibration and strain pulling through his legs. His arms shook, breath ragged, but he held on.
“Alright, let’s guide you back down. Slow and steady.”
They eased him down carefully. The wheelchair caught him as his arms went slack. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch faintly.
Ben clapped him gently on his good shoulder. “That was all you, man. Nailed it.”
He met his eyes. “Thanks.”
“That was good, Matt.” Tasha said. “You stood for a full thirty seconds. That’s a big milestone.”
“Thirty seconds. Guess I’ll be running marathons by next week.”
“Let’s start with making it through a full shift first.”
“Low bar. Appreciate it.”
“Told you you'd get it on the next try.”
“Yeah. Well… thanks for making me.”
“We’re partners. That’s what we do,” Ben replied, his grin widening. “But seriously, Matt. That was something else.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his legs. For the first time, the braces didn’t feel like a reminder of what he’d lost. They felt like tools. Something he could use to move forward.
Lucy’s phone buzzed on the kitchen table as she worked through her lesson plans. Matt’s name lit the screen.
He rarely called. She caught it before it rang again.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much. Figured I’d call.”
He didn’t usually lead with such an open-ended comment.
“Well, I’m glad you did. How’s PT going?”
There was a pause, then the sound of Matt clearing his throat.
“It’s... okay. Tasha had me try standing today. First time since... everything.”
“Wait,” Lucy said, careful not to sound too excited. “You stood?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t much. Just thirty seconds.”
She matched his pace. “Thirty seconds is incredible, Matt. That’s huge.”
“It’s... something,” he said cautiously. “Tasha seemed happy about it. And Ben wouldn’t shut up.”
“Well, they’re not wrong. This is a big deal.”
“Yeah, maybe. Just... thought you’d want to know.”
“I do want to know. And I’m glad you told me. This is progress, Matt. I know it might not feel like a lot, but it is.”
“Yeah,” he said, the word drawn out, like he was still processing. “I guess.”
“So, what’s next?”
“Tasha’s already planning to up the angle on the tilt table. She’s got this whole ‘next step’ routine lined up. Literally.”
There it was. His usual sarcasm, if only a flicker.
“Sounds like she’s keeping you on your toes.”
“Something like that,” he murmured.
“Well, thanks for the update. I know you don’t usually like... talking about this stuff.”
“Figured you’d want to know.”
“I always do. And for the record, I’m really proud of you.”
It took a while until he finally said, “Thanks.”
“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest. But if Ben gives you a hard time tomorrow, tell him I said to cool it.”
Matt chuckled. “I’ll let him know.”
“Good,” she said. “Talk soon, okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Talk soon.”
The line went quiet. Lucy set the phone down, her smile lingering.
He called.
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