by N. C. Reed
FIRE FROM
THE SKY
BOOK THREE
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FIRE FROM THE SKY: BOOK 3: TRIAL BY FIRE
by N.C. REED
Published by Creative Texts Publishers
PO Box 50
Barto, PA 19504
www.creativetexts.com
Copyright 2018 by N.C. REED
All rights reserved
Cover photos used by license.
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This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, persons, businesses, and incidents is strictly coincidental. Locations are used only in the general sense and do not represent the real place in actuality.
Kindle Edition
FIRE FROM
THE SKY
BOOK THREE
N.C. Reed
As ever,
for the Ranger, the Clerk, and the Chef.
Missing you as always.
PROLOGUE
-
“No,” the old man's voice was stern. “Your point should be higher and your hilt slightly lower. This arm,” he took the boy's left arm, “must be rigid and straight from the elbow. It should be completely vertical here, with the palm flat against the hilt. That should push your right arm slightly, leaving it also vertical with the elbow touching your body just above your waist. Understand?”
“No,” the boy admitted, lowering his stance and looking at his grandfather quizzically. “I don't understand. I mean, I understand about the form,” the boy corrected, “but not why we practice the art. Where will we use this today?”
“It is not only about use, Tandioshi,” the grandfather smiled indulgently though his voice was firm. “The discipline needed to master the blade will also help you master things in other areas of life. Discipline is the most important thing to a man, regardless of what endeavor he is engaged in. The Maseo have been samurai for unknown generations and these techniques have served our people well in that time.”
“Where would we get a chance to be samurai nowadays, Grandfather?” the boy asked. “Besides, aren't we American rather than Japanese?”
“Listen to me, Tandi-kun,” his grandfather placed a patriarchal hand on the boy's shoulder. “No matter what country you call home or give your allegiance to, you are still samurai. Your blood is that of warriors, boy, and it always will be. Whatever flag you serve, never disgrace the blood of your ancestors. Never bring shame upon your clan.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“Now, show me again,” the grandfather smiled. “Perfect practice makes perfect execution. Starting point.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
CHAPTER ONE
-
Tandi Maseo spun again on his rear foot, his sword slicing the air before him as he completed his turn. He did this every morning unless he was on a mission, and had since he was a boy. Training his muscles and his mind so that when he needed them, they would respond and be ready.
He had used the skills his patriarch had taught him many times over the years. Sword, knife, spikes. Bow staff. Even archery, though his skill with a bow wasn't nearly as proficient as with his katana. All were the ancient weapons of his people and their way of life through the olden eras of feudal Japan. His great-grandfather had carried the same sword that Tandi was using now during the Pacific war, using it more than once in battle.
His grandfather had then carried it in Vietnam, one of the few Japanese troops to serve there, and then only with Americans as an observer. At least until the fire base he had been 'observing' had come unto attack. From that point on Takashi Maseo had been a combatant and not an observer, forced to protect himself if he wanted to live. That action had resulted in his dismissal from the JSDF and prompted his immigration to America, where he had received citizenship in return for his service in America's armed forces.
Tandi's own father had taken the sword with him to the desert in the First Gulf war, falling there in service when Tandi was but 3 years old. The Marine Corps returned the sword along with a folded flag and the thanks of a grateful nation. Tandi's mother had taken her own life less than a year later, leaving the four-year-old in the custody of his paternal grandfather.
Who made sure that his grandson could carry on the family line should he choose to do so.
Tandi had given little thought to that growing up, and even less thought in the years he spent around the world doing America's dirty work. It wasn't until he came home to prepare for what he feared would be the end of the world and met Ellen Kargay that Tandi really started thinking about perpetuating his family line. Of course, meeting Ellen had made him think about a lot of things he'd never considered before meeting her.
Now here he was, part of a group trying to survive the end of the modern age. Or at least a major setback to the modern era anyway, and still using the things his grandfather had taught him. So yeah, those were things he needed to pass on, if not to his own children then someone else. Just as he was teaching knife skills to Clay's nephew and his friends. Skills they could use in defending the farm they all called home.
So much to do, he thought as he turned again, slashing through the air, and stumbling as he saw someone on the floor near the door of the barn where he was practicing. Staggering to a halt with his balance destroyed, Tandi was surprised to see Leanne Sanders, Clayton's younger niece, the genius non-crazy niece he added to himself, kneeling just inside, katana and washazaki on the ground before her.
Head bowed in submission, Leanne raised her head enough to look at him and spoke.
“Teach me.”
It was a simple statement that contained a massive request and Tandi was certain that Leanne knew exactly what she was asking. There was a litany of responses that he could make to that, all of which would have been appropriate, but Tandi asked the most pertinent question he could think of.
“Why?”
“Because I want to learn,” she replied simply. “If things stay the way they are then. . .one day there won't be ammunition, right? There won't be parts to keep guns working and repaired forever. I need to know how to protect myself when that happens. And using a sword is way better than using my hands. And…well...it's cool, you know?” she risked a weak grin and Tandi couldn't help but smile.
“Yeah, it is cool,” he agreed. “But, and I don't mean this in any way to be harsh, you're too old to start something like this, really.”
“What?” The shock in her voice was evident.
“I started at the age of four,” he told her kindly. “At your age, you already have habits set that would interfere with your learning. It would be much harder for you to learn, beginning from your age now.”
“So, I just have to work harder,” Leanne shrugged, undeterred by the challenge. “I already practice yoga, stretching and balance exercises, and I've been reading about swords and their uses since I was much younger. I may not be where I should be at this age, but it's not as if I'm starting from nothing.”
“You just outlined the problems that will get in your way,” Tandi replied. “Your reading abo
ut swords, and I assume sword play, will get in the way of your learning the proper way to do things, Leanne. It's only natural. And learning improperly would just mean you might injure yourself. Swords are deadly, often to the user as well as to the enemy.”
“Then isn't it safer for me to learn properly even if it takes longer, rather than depend on what I learn on my own and risk injury? Or risk accidentally injuring someone else?” Leanne made a reasoned argument, her face devoid of any sign of the dismay she was feeling so far.
Tandi sighed, reminding himself that this girl was a genius. Trying to out think her was about as useless as battling a house fire with a squirt gun. Sure, you'd be putting water on the fire, but it would turn to vapor before it ever hit the blaze.
“Leanne...” he started again, but she interrupted.
“I'm going to learn to use these,” she indicated the two blades before her. “One way or another. I had planned to learn before I saw you use yours, Mister Maseo. The fact that you're here just means I get to learn properly, that's all. Assuming you give in and agree to teach me, anyway. If you don't, then I'm back to my books and the videos I bought before the world ended. I'll learn from them as best I can. So, you can't be held responsible for me learning even if you do teach me. I'm going to do it anyway. Somehow.”
Good grief, Tandi thought to himself. There is no way to win an argument with this kid. She attacks everything like a chess game.
“You think that's the right thing to do?” he asked.
“I think if I want to survive, then anything that might help me do that is the right thing to do,” Leanne replied flatly. “And I want to survive. No,” she corrected herself, “I'm going to survive. Whatever it takes. That means with your help or without it. With your help would almost certainly be better, but either way I'm going to do it.”
Well, shit, Tandi fought off yet another sigh of resignation. Hell, I was just thinking about needing to teach someone, wasn't I? What does it matter where I start, right?
“It will be hard work, Leanne,” he told her, giving in at last. “And I mean hard. At your age, with so much you already think you know, it will be hard. It's also boring, at least to start. There is a great deal you will have to catch up on at your age that would not have been boring at that age. To someone at your age, with your intellect, it will bore your to tears to get through it, which means you won't likely do as good a job. And that means doing it again and again until you have it right. Are you prepared to start, knowing that?”
“I'm prepared to do whatever is necessary in order to learn,” Leanne nodded. “As for boring, if there's a reason for doing something, then I can do it regardless of how boring it might be. All I ask is that you not treat me like I'm stupid and have me doing silly things to run me off. If you don't want to teach me, then just say that and I'll continue on my own, no hard feelings. If you say there's a reason for standing on my head and singing the National Anthem, then I'll do it so long as I know you mean it. I will trust you mean it until you prove that you don't. Fair enough?” she looked up at him.
“Fair enough,” Tandi couldn't hid the smile that blossomed on his face. “What's in it for me?”
“What?” Leanne's eyes widened.
“What's in it for me?” Tandi repeated. “What do I get out of it?”
“Uh,” Leanne was caught off guard. “I dunno,” she managed not to stammer. “What did you have in mind?”
“It takes a long time to teach skills like this,” Tandi enjoyed having the upper hand on one half of the Dynamic Duo, even if it was for only a moment. “Years even. Like I said, I started at the age of four. If I'm going to teach you then I need something to make it worth my while, you know?”
“That. . .that's a lot of worth your while,” Leanne told him. “Money isn't any good so. . .what are we talking about here?”
“Well,” Tandi pretended to consider the question, hand on his chin in a classic 'thoughtful' pose. “It should be something of equal value don't you think?”
“What could I have that's equal to that?” Leanne wondered aloud.
“Well it would have to be something work related, I guess,” Tandi shrugged. “You can do laundry, right?”
“Laundry is a farm chore,” Leanne said. “It already gets done, doesn't it?”
“We all take turns,” Tandi nodded. “I guess if you were taking my turn at laundry duty then I could probably teach you how to use those,” he nodded to Leanne's swords.
“Laundry, huh?” Leanne's nose wrinkled but she didn't lose her resolve. “I guess you'll want me to do your laundry duty as long as the lessons last? Right?”
“Oh, definitely,” Tandi nodded, doing his best to keep a straight face. “We're trading, right? So long as I'm teaching you, you take my turn at laundry day. So long as you do my laundry turn, I teach you. Fair enough?” he used her own phrase.
“Fair enough,” Leanne released a deep sigh. “When do we start?”
“We can start now,” he told her. “If you've done yoga, I assume you're familiar with breath exercises?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Good,” Tandi settled in before her in a lotus. “Do what I do, then. First...”
-
“What's wrong with you?” Leon the Deuce asked as his sister come trudging into the small room the two used as their command center. Or lair, as Leon preferred to call it.
“I'm tired,” Leanne told him as she settled on the large bean bag in her corner of the room. “I never knew breathing could be so tiring,” she admitted.
“Huh?” her brother didn't get it. “What's so hard about breathing?”
“Nothing until you start paying attention to it,” Leanne exhaled sharply. “Then it's all uphill.”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“I talked Tandi Maseo into teaching me how to use a sword,” Leanne told him from the bean bag. “First lesson is how to breathe properly. Apparently, I've been doing it wrong. Since I was born no less.”
“How do you breathe wrong?” Leon asked. “And since when do you have a sword anyway?”
“Since you got all those knives,” she reminded him. “I wanted a sword and Uncle Clay said it was okay. Now I have to learn to use them properly and Tandi Maseo knows how.”
“He does, huh?” Leon mused as much to himself as to his sister. “What else does he know how to do?”
“Well, he's teaching Gordy and all his buddies to use knives, so he knows how to do that,” Leanne shrugged.
“Oh?” Leon's face lit up an instant before he schooled his features down.
“Better not go empty handed if you're planning on asking him to teach you,” Leanne warned. “I have to take his turn on laundry duty until I quit the lessons. Starting tomorrow,” she made a finger down her throat gagging motion.
“Well, I don't want to learn that bad,” Leon shrugged. “Still, won't hurt to sound him out on it, right?”
-
Tandi settled in at the small table he had placed outside, away from the house and barns. He looked at his meager supplies and shook his head once again at his carelessness. How could he have forgotten something so important as this? With everything else going on he had forgotten something so near and dear to him and now he was looking at that disaster head on. And not a single thing he could do about it, ei-
“I didn't know you liked to draw,” the voice of Leon the Deuce came from behind him. “That's awesome.”
“Would be if I hadn't forgotten to get some supplies before the world went to hell,” Tandi said sourly, not really in the mood for idle chit chat at the moment. His drawing was an escape that he could take anywhere with him. He had sketch books filled with work from all around the world that he had preserved with workable fixative, a type of spray that would protect pencil works from smears and fading. It was the hobby that would travel with him. One he enjoyed and got great pleasure as well as satisfaction from, creating rather than destroying. Now, that was all in danger.
“Both,” Tandi sighed, realizing the kid wasn't going to go away. “We were in such a hurry that. . .that I forgot, that's all.” His disgust came through in his tone of voice. “And I'll play hell getting any replacements now,” he sat down heavily in the folding chair he'd brought out with him.
“I hadn't touched this stuff in months,” he admitted to Leon. “I had forgotten I hadn't went and got new pencils and sketch pads. I remember it now,” he despaired.
“Well, I might be able to help you,” the cagey Leon sounded hesitant, even tentative as he dangled the bait.
“Oh yeah?” Tandi didn't bother to hide his skepticism. “And how's that?”
“Well, I bought a bunch of art pencils and pads and stuff,” Leon jigged the bait a bit. Just enough to get his fish's attention. “Got some of them in Nashville the day we ran to grab what we could after the Event, and ordered the rest through Amazon. Figured we'd all be needing a hobby since there wouldn't be any more, well, anything,” Leon shrugged.
“Yeah?” Tandi sounded only mildly annoyed now. “What brand did you get? Crayola?”
“For kids, yeah,” Leon didn't take offense. “For me? Prisma-color.” Bump the bait just a little. Here, fishy fishy.
“What did you do? Get one of those little starter kits?” Tandi still sounded annoyed, but hit the bait anyway.
“I bought two of the largest set and then ten of the middle. Also got boxes of twelve for black and the primary colors. Figured they would run out the quickest.” Leon set the hook with an expertise that would have made Leon the Elder proud. His face never twitched as he looked straight at his victim. Er. . .mark.
“Oh yeah?” Tandi didn't even taste the hook as his countenance brightened at the news. “I don't suppose you'd want to part with any of 'em would you?”
“Well,” Leon scratched the side of his face, “I might could,” he nodded. “What's in it for me, though?”