Dauntless

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Dauntless Page 11

by Thomas G. Atwood Jr.

“I have a few observations. One, these do not appear to be twist-offs, so well done. Second, I’m eighteen.”

  “If you’re old enough to spill blood, you’re old enough to enjoy a beer. I’m not continuing this conversation without a drink in me.”

  “Grand,” I replied, taking a long sip of the bitter liquid. “So listen, I know my dad can be-”

  “A prat?” Ripper volunteered.

  “Confrontational,” I finished, glaring at him. “But that’s it? He didn’t like your wife, so you quit being a Sentinel?”

  “No, that’s the reason I stopped coming over to your house. We moved, and I continued working, until one day I came home and found Roxanne with another man. She saw me and dropped dead.”

  “What do you mean she dropped dead?”

  “She had a heart condition from birth. The stress from her...activity, combined with me catching her caused her heart to stop. At the funeral, I realized that I was all my son had left. So I quit and devoted my life to being his father.”

  “I don’t get it, why couldn’t you do both?”

  Ripper grumbled, letting the bottle dangle from his hand. “You may understand this one day, Kacey, but having a child is the most important responsibility a person could have. No matter what you do, no matter what decision you make, they have to come first. Everything comes down to them. I couldn’t put my life on the line like that and continue to be a decent father. So, I quit, took my savings, and we moved out to the country.”

  “I get it. Believe it or not, I get it. I have no right asking, but I’m asking. I need you. We’re going up against a world-class bad guy. He took everything my dad and I gave him and shrugged it off. I need you to train me, teach me how to take guys like him down. If you are half the legend everyone says you are, then we need you on the front lines. We can’t do this without you.” I stood up and headed for the door. “Thanks for the beer.”

  “I can’t make you a fighter,” he said, as my hand touched the doorknob. “It can’t be done. You don’t have the physique, the mindset, or the tools necessary for me to do it.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “No, it’s not,” he said, his eyes blazing. “I can’t make you a fighter, but I can forge you into something else. You won’t fight your opponents; you will put them in the grave. I will transform you into a nightmare, a predator that stalks in the night. You won’t engage enemies; you will shatter armies. If you work with me and give it everything you have, you will shake the heavens and turn the creatures of the night to dust.”

  I grinned. “When do we start?”

  Chapter 11

  Ripper followed me back to The Mansion where I passed out, exhausted from the day’s events. The next thing I knew a splash of cold water woke me up, sending me shivering and sputtering as I collapsed on the bed. Ripper stood over me, a grin on his face as he set the pail spinning on my night-stand.

  “What…?” I asked, flustered and unable to think. I glanced at the alarm near my bed, and the flashing red lights read four o’clock.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted, grabbing the towel he tossed at me.

  “You needed to wake up,” he replied, hands clasped behind his back as he waited for me.

  “It’s four in the morning; I don’t need to be doing anything.”

  “Your training starts today. Tomorrow I’ll wake you up thirty minutes earlier. If you’re not up and dressed, then I’ll wake you up the same way, and you’ll have to wake up even earlier. Get dressed; you have fifteen minutes to get up, get ready, and meet me in the basement. If you’re not there in time, I’ll know you’re not serious about your training.”

  He hummed as he strolled out the door. I cursed, throwing on whatever clothes I could find before rushing out the door. The basement had cold steel covering everything. Twin pillars stood in the middle with a black painted pentagram painted underneath. Ripper finished the design with a circle that touched each point and stood back, grinning.

  “Step in the middle,” he stated, following me as I obeyed.

  “What’s this?” I asked, cocking my head as I inspected the design.

  “It’s a magic circle.”

  “Neat. This place seems like a horror movie, though. Are we going to summon zombies or something?”

  Ripper scoffed. “The magic circle represents the fundamental forces of magic. Earth, water, air, fire, and spirit, and in the center, the mage who directs the primal energies. The circle’s composition determines its use. Steel, for example, works as a containment field. It weakens your enemies and seals them in place.”

  “Sweet. How does it work?”

  “Like this,” he replied, snapping an iron shackle on me. He took the other end of the chain, wrapping it around the pillar. He snapped the second chain on me and reached inside my jacket.

  “You won’t be needing these,” he said, grabbing my lock picks and walking to the far side of the room. I pulled at the restraints, but they held me in place. Ripper whistled as he made a single stroke of paint. The pentagram glowed a bright orange, the color of smoldering flame, and I felt a strange fatigue settle over me.

  “The circle robs the energy of any supernatural creature trapped inside it. They can’t leave as long as the symbol is intact. The longer they stay inside the circle, the more it drains the energy from them. Your task is simple. All you need to do is retrieve these,” he said, placing two tickets on the far side of the room.

  “What are those?”

  “Two tickets to the Denver-Philly game tomorrow afternoon. They’re your reward. Provided, of course, that you can take them.”

  “So that’s it? Grab the tickets?”

  “That’s it. Retrieve the tickets, and we move on to the next step of your training. I’m going to test your power and resourcefulness. You need to learn to use your mystical abilities. So if I see you try and wiggle out of those chains or do one of those tricks you know, I will make sure you regret it.”

  “How did you know I could do that?”

  “I assumed that your mom would teach you her escape artist voodoo. It’s a useful trick, but I’m not trying to test your cunning. I’m trying to test your power. Walk to the other end of the room and pass. Fail, and I know you’re not worth my time.”

  “Great, thanks.” I surveyed my surroundings. Brass colored pipes ran along the ceiling, and when I focused, I heard water flowing through them. The chair was dirty and rusted, with disgusting orange stains coating it in sick polka dots. The steel cuffs were cold as ice. I ran my fingers over the chain, feeling every minuscule bump and groove in the restraints.

  “Need a hint?” Ripper replied, smirking.

  I glared at him and struggled to focus my senses on the chain again. Each time I reached for my powers, they slipped away out of grasp. I pulled on the chains in frustration, letting out an impotent yell as I struggled. Ripper leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face as he popped a stick of gum. The magic of the circle made my thoughts fuzzy, making it harder to concentrate with each passing second.

  “Oh come on, I would have had this done and been halfway through breakfast,” Ripper shouted, rolling his eyes. “What’s the problem?”

  “This is…harder than it looks,” I grunted, pulling against the chains.

  “Not for a Sentinel. Face it, little girl; you don’t have what it takes.” I shot a glare at him, my eyes burning with fury. “You’ve been in two fights with the supernatural, and you’ve lost them both! You’re a little damsel, waiting for Kat or Aidan to rescue you.”

  “Shut up,” I growled. I threw myself at him, but the chains held me fast. White-hot anger flooded my vision at every word that spill
ed out of his mouth. I didn’t care about the test anymore. All I wanted was to get free so that I could rub his nose in it. The pillars that held the chains in place groaned, dust falling from the ceiling as the struggled to hold me back.

  “How do you expect me to train you if you can’t handle a little iron?” he asked, scoffing as I pulled against the chains. “You’d let us down. Just like you let down your father when you watched him take a beating.” He stood at the edge of the circle and sneered. “Just like you let down your mother when you watched her die.”

  Rage filled my body, burning like fire as it flooded through me. Cracks wound through the stone pillars like a snake gliding up a tree. The groaning grew more and more desperate. In an instant the stone exploded outward, filling the air with dust and shrapnel. I moved toward Ripper, but an invisible force pushed me back. No matter how hard I pushed, the circle pushed back harder, leaving me trapped in the center. Ripper watched me as I paced in the middle, running through possible escape routes.

  “Hey, you didn’t shell out for waterproof paint, did you?”

  “What?” Ripper returned in confusion.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I mumbled to myself. I swung the chains in a circle, bashing them against the copper pipes that ran across the ceiling. They exploded, flooding the room in a deluge of water. The torrent washed away the paint, and I strutted over to Ripper, unhindered by the circle. Ripper glanced at the flooded room in amusement, tucking the tickets inside his jacket as I walked over.

  “You were trying to get me angry, weren’t you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “It worked. I needed to get you focused on something, and getting you angry seemed like the best way to do it.”

  “Good call,” I said. In an instant, I drove my fist into his stomach, pouring all my newfound strength into the strike. Ripper grunted in pain as he glanced down at me.

  “Mention my mother again and we’re going to have problems,” I growled at him.

  “Noted.”

  “So what’s next on my list of training?”

  “Plumbing,” he stated, handing me a wrench.

  ***

  We spent the rest of the day replacing pipes and mopping up the floor. The effort of cleaning up countless gallons of water exhausted me. I walked over to The Mansion’s kitchen, starving as I searched through the fridge. A sandwich lay on the top shelf, surrounded by chips and a jumbo pickle, with a post-it note taped to the plate.

  Kacey,

  You were still training with Ripper, so Kat and I went out to get some dinner. I made you something to eat, pastrami and Swiss, your favorite.

  Love, Dad

  My mouth watered as I gazed at the meal. I pulled it from the fridge and took a big bite. I reeled back, disgusted as a dozen strange tastes and sensations flowed through me. I could taste the dozens of chemicals the factory used to preserve the meat, and the scent of the mustard flowed into my nose like pepper spray. I coughed, setting the food on the table as I tried to recover. Ripper walked up as I groaned, reaching for the bland, inoffensive oatmeal. It was all I could eat without the taste overwhelming me.

  “Not a fan of pastrami?” he asked, taking a big bite as he pulled the meal toward him. I managed to choke off a protest as I tossed the white colored sludge in my bowl, picking at it with my spoon.

  “You know, I thought this was going to be fun when I first started."

  “You’re not having fun?” Ripper asked, taking a big bite of the pickle. My pickle.

  “I can’t eat anything but oatmeal. Anything else tastes like a slaughterhouse. I can’t sleep without the place being silent. Did you know Kat writes?”

  “Writes what?”

  “I have no idea. I hear her fountain pen scratching all night long on that paper. Not to mention all the smells that are wafting through this place.”

  “You’ll learn how to control it,” Ripper replied, standing up and putting the finished plate of food in the sink. I glared at him as he brushed the crumbs off his shirt.

  “What? You weren’t eating it,” he said as I glared at him.

  “Whatever. When will I learn how to control my abilities?”

  “When you do.”

  “Can you give me a hand with it? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing with this whole Yoda thing?”

  “I can. You won’t like it, but I can.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’ll take some time to set up. Show me good effort until then, and we’ll see what I can do.”

  “Sure,” I agreed, slurping the remains of my lukewarm oatmeal.

  I was about to place the bowl in the sink when Ripper switched on the garbage disposal. The simple tool was as loud as a jet engine. I held my hands over my ears, gritting my teeth as pain stabbed through my ears. Ripper flicked the switch off, and I gasped as silence filled the room.

  “You’re right, kid, you have a problem,” he said.

  “That wasn’t nice,” I moaned, trying to ignore a throbbing headache.

  “Sorry, I needed to see how bad it was.”

  “And?”

  “Not as bad as I thought. It’s a common problem. You’re not used to these powers, so your brain doesn’t know when to deactivate them. I had the same problem when I was a kid. Well, similar enough. I learned how to teleport-”

  “You’re joking.”

  Ripper grinned and disappeared in a flash of green light. I gasped in surprise and almost jumped out of my skin when he appeared behind me. He had a glass of water and two pills in his hand that he set down in front of me.

  “Show off,” I complained, downing the pills.

  “It wasn’t so amusing when I was a sixteen-year-old kid who appeared in the middle of a bank vault. My point is I learned how to control it, and so can you.”

  I grunted in reply as I glanced down at where the pills used to be.

  “Thanks for the pep talk and the pills, Coach.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ripper glanced up from the table as Dad and Kat walked in. The two froze as they saw each other, exchanging glances like two wolves vying for territory.

  “Patrick,” Dad said, placing his hands in his jacket pockets.

  “David.”

  “How long are you in town for?”

  “A while. I’m training your kid.”

  “She’s a smart kid. She’ll surprise you.”

  “How’ve you been?”

  “Good, you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Kid all right?”

  “He’s good.”

  “Great.”

  “This is some incredible conversation; I’m touched to be part of it,” I stated, rolling my eyes.

  “Kacey, why don’t you go and help Kat bring the bags inside?” Dad asked.

  “I would, but I finished wiping up, like five hundred gallons of water. I was going to bed.”

  “Kacey, why don’t you…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, hopping out of my chair.

  Kat and I navigated through The Mansion to the open air of the garage. The sounds of the city came to life the second I left. Sirens blared as they raced across the city, and thousands of honking horns bellowed in my ears. I groaned, rubbing my temples as I walked over to my dad’s mammoth SUV.

  “Are you all right?” Kat asked, hefting the two small, almost minuscule, bags as I groaned. Thanks, Dad, I complained to myself as we stepped back inside.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “If you say so. So you didn’t tell me
your dad was funny,” Kat said, a strange grin on her face as we walked inside.

  “Oh yeah. Anytime you want a good knock-knock joke; he’s your man.” I frowned as the smell of fresh Italian leaked from the bag.

  “You went to Marello’s?” I asked, glancing at the label.

  “We did.”

  “That’s one of the best Italian restaurants in town. Why’d you guys go there?”

  “No reason,” Kat returned, her cheeks burning a bright pink color. “We were digging up information on Pyrus, and he suggested we take a break to get something to eat.”

  “So you chose the fanciest joint in town?”

  “Was it? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Alright,” I returned, rolling my eyes. “So what’s our least favorite mercenary up to?”

  “I have no idea. We can’t find him anywhere. Your dad did his magic on the computer, and I scryed for him most of the afternoon.”

  “Scryed?”

  “It’s trying to detect someone through magic. I’ll show you sometime. We can’t manage to find him anywhere in town though. So either he’s a telecommuting bounty hunter-”

  “Fun idea. Capturing people for fun and profit. We should make an infomercial. So either that or he’s someplace we can’t get to him.”

  Kat chuckled as we wound our way through the halls. “The bottom line is… we have no idea where he is.”

  “I’m not concerned; that means we have a level playing field. We don’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know where I am.”

  “How can you tell?” Kat mumbled as she stared down at her phone.

  “Because we’re still breathing.”

  Kat’s grinned. “You’re an upbeat person, has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m awesome.”

  “Get some rest,” Kat said, smiling at me as she walked into the kitchen with the tense Dad and Ripper. I climbed the stairs, collapsing on the bed. I had closed my eyes when the muffled sounds of Dad, Kat, and Ripper penetrated the walls. I held my pillow over my head as my hearing went into overdrive, catching every ambient sound and magnifying them to an obnoxious degree.

 

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