HOSHOKU: IN THE APOCALYPSE, A HERO RISES (The Hoshoku Chronicles Book 1)

by Vincent Fields

  As the two other men heard his gunfire they began to look and simultaneously turn their pistols in Tak’s direction. His eyes flashed as he became Hoshoku. His senses became finely tuned and his pupils narrowed. Time seemed to slow down around him as he continued to move at normal speed. He was now within five feet of both men; one in front of him to his left and one in front to his right. He sprinted to the man to his left, who was limping from a gunshot to the leg. As the stainless steel pistol in his right hand slowly inched around towards Tak, he stepped in close to the man with his right hand bashing the bottom of his pistol against the top of the thug’s wrist as Tak’s left hand shot up and slammed in and through the man’s elbow, forcing it to break. He heard the cartilage in the man’s elbow pop and rip as his arms bent over almost 90 degrees in the wrong direction. He heard the man begin a slow scream as he released his pistol; unable to hold onto it due to his crippled arm. He smelled the strong acridic odor of urine as the man lost control of his bladder. The pistol began its slow motion plummet towards the floor, dropping at a rate that seemed to Tak to be about an inch per second. As the pistol fell and rotated he read the inscription on its side; “STURM RUGER & CO. INC. SOUTHPORT CONN. USA”. He smoothly reached out and grabbed the pistol as it fell in, activated the ambidextrous decocker that safely released its hammer, and tucked it in his belt at the rear of his uniform. He then spun towards the man and threw a powerful thrust kick with his right leg, as he would if he were to kick open a door. Tak’s boot drove deep into the man’s sternum, snapping ribs on both sides and blasting the man off of his feet and through the air where he crashed into the wall behind him. As his head impacted the wall it made a sickening thud and knocked him unconscious before he collapsed in a heap.

  This all happened so fast that the man to Tak’s right hadn’t yet swung his pistol halfway around down the hall where Tak had been standing. Tak calmly but quickly took two quick steps towards that man, which brought him right behind him. At that moment he saw who the men had been firing at… chief Brooks was slumped up against the wall another 20 feet down the corridor with two other men lying dead in front of him. Rage burned inside Tak’s heart in that moment…. and that was enough to interrupt his focus and therefore his ability to move at a supernatural speed. Still, he was in great position to take this man out as he stepped into the bend of his right leg with his own right foot and pulled the man off balance, backwards and towards the ground with his left hand on the man’s left shoulder. Simultaneously he swung his pistol across the back of his skull, cracking him a bit harder than he had intended. He had meant to just knock the man out, but in the heat of the moment his pistol impacted harder than he intended and the man’s skull cracked open. The man fell down, unconscious and with blood and a bit of brain matter coming out of the back of his head. Tak then holstered his pistol and ran over to chief Brooks.

  The realization that his mentor in law enforcement was dead hit him like a brick to the face. The chief had taken two rounds to his nano-kevlar vest, but the killing round had entered just above his left eye. Splattered blood, skull and brain fragments were on the wall behind him with a trail streaking down to where he now sat leaning up against it. Tak hoped that the man who killed the chief was one of the two dead thugs lying in front of him. He crouched in front of him, held his hand and couldn’t hold back the hot tears that ran down his face. The chief had been a role model to him in policing. He had been a good man to his core; not some power hungry cop who abused his power, as the police were so often made out to be in the public eye. This man would go out of his way to help common folks. Tak had seen him buy groceries for a woman with two young children who had been caught shoplifting food. He’d seen the man volunteer his off duty time to speak to schools and work at the local food pantry. Tak’s emotions overcame him during one of the rare times he didn’t fight to control them and instead just let the tears flow. He couldn’t focus at that moment if his life depended on it. Seeming far away he heard Amy’s panicked voice come over the radio, not following any proper radio protocol. “Tak! Tak! Are you there? Damnit, come in Tak!”

  Just then Ghost came around a corner not five feet from where Tak crouched over the chief. He carried a large black duffel bag over his left shoulder filled with recently looted pill bottles and clutched his bloody combat knife in an icepick grip in his right hand. As he saw Tak and his dead companions he dropped the bag in mid step, muttering “You’re a dead man” and he charged forward. He figured to drop his weight down on the cop and impale him before he had time to react. Tak glanced left at the blur rushing towards him. He had no time to stand and face the threat so he went with his attacker’s momentum, pushing himself away from the thug and sliding onto his own back. As the man saw Tak fall he assumed an easy kill was before him as he drove the blade downward towards the cop’s throat. Knowing that his nano-kevlar tactical vest would stop any blade from penetrating it, Tak scrambled back even farther backwards with his feet so that the thug’s blade would be in line with his own chest instead of his throat or head. At the same time he reached out with both hands and clasped around the weapon wielding hand, pulling it tight into his chest. The blade deflected off of his vest harmlessly as Tak controlled the weapon hand with both of his. At the same time he wrapped both of his legs around the attacker’s waist, securing a tight defensive guard position. Ghost tried to pull his knife up to stab again, but with both of Tak’s hands controlling that hand and his legs holding him close, he couldn’t sit up to get any space. As the man momentarily eased up his upward pull to try and establish his balance on his knees, Tak felt the opportunity and pulled him forward aggressively with both legs as he guided the man’s right hand to the upper right side of his own chest. Tak walked his legs upward, deep under the man’s arms and high on his torso. At the same time he worked around so that he was at an angle to his attacker, turning to his right side as the man was pulled forward on his knees inside of Tak’s high guard. Even with Tak on bottom of the fight, this put him in a position of advantage. Ghost felt like he was almost completely immobilized as Tak used his entire body to control him, his powerful legs locking him in place. While Ghost was larger and more muscular than Tak, he knew from countless hours spent training this same position that this man was no expert grappler. There is a big difference between pushing around a stack of weights and technically manipulating a fully resisting human body; and ghost had done too much of the former and not nearly enough of the latter. Tak had been here countless times in training with an opponent who had a training knife trying to score a hit on him. Ghost squirmed and tried to punch Tak’s face with his left hand, but there was no power behind the strike due to Tak’s advantaged position. Tak knew that he had several combative options at this moment. He could continue his movement around Ghost and take his back, going for a rear naked choke. Or he could throw his left leg high up and over the man’s face and then squeeze his knees on both sides of his right bicep as he drove his midsection into the rear of the man’s elbow, hyperextending it in an painful armbar technique. He also felt that he could choose to kick out the man’s far-side knee so that he fell to his stomach as Tak slid out from under him. Or he could easily throw his right leg up and over the man’s left shoulder, turning his calf across the back of his opponent’s neck and throwing that foot under the bend in his left knee to apply a triangle choke with his legs, which would choke the man unconscious. However all of those options left the possibility that the man could attack Tak with his knife as he attempted them, which he undoubtedly would have tried. In an instant Tak weighed each of those options and instead decided to take the safe route and remove the knife from the man’s grasp so that he could finish him in any manner he chose without having to worry about that weapon.

  Now, forcing a knife out of the hand of from anyone whose adrenaline is pumping is no easy task, much less a muscular man who was panicking and fighting for his life AND high on meth, such as Ghost was in this very moment. Tak knew the knife disarming strateg
y that had proven to work best time and time again in training and in past altercations with bladed opponents. It was the very concept that he father had drilled into all the students of the Graves Dojo, and it had saved more than one of their lives in real fights. As was often the case; the simplest thing often works the best. The concept of “Control-Distract-Disarm” was one he knew well and was attempting now. He already controlled the weapon-wielding hand properly with both of his; now he needed to take the man’s mind off of holding the knife for just an instant so he would have an opportunity to disarm him. Bending the wrist so that hand opens up and the knife falls out is almost impossible when someone is fighting hard to not letting that happen as they hold onto their weapon for dear life… unless you truly and effectively distract them first. Tak used the simplest distraction he knew. As he held his right arm straight against his chest and controlled both sides of the weapon-wielding hand so that Ghost couldn’t pass the blade over to his other hand, Tak latched onto the outer meaty portion of his hand below the pinky finger with the right side of his teeth and bit out a large chunk of flesh. Ghost screamed and loosened his grip on the blade as unexpected pain flooded his right hand. Tak had expected just that reaction, and the instant Ghost’s hand and fingers loosened and were no longer trying to resist being bent, Tak snapped it forward with the palm facing back towards the man’s torso in what is referred to as a “gooseneck wristlock”; since bending a wrist forward like that makes it resemble a goose’s head and neck. Now a hand just isn’t supposed to bend that way, and a gruesome crunch and snap of ligaments tearing erupted from Ghost’s now useless right wrist and hand as his right palm touched his right forearm as the knife fell to the floor. Pain as he had never known consumed him and he lost all functions, defecating himself as he looked at his mangled hand like it was an alien attached to the end of his forearm. Now completely distracted, Tak uncrossed his legs from behind the man, and while pushing on Ghost’s left knee with his right foot, he dropped him down flat to his stomach as he quickly slid himself into position around and then behind him. After successfully taking the man’s back Tak quickly reached over and pushed the blade several feet away so that it was out of reach of the attacker; not that Ghost had the mind to do anything other than scream at this moment in his state of utter shock. Tak ended the noise quickly as he turned the man’s head upwards and to the right with a “crossface” technique in which he painfully drove his left fist up and across the man’s left cheekbone and nose in order to expose his neck. Then Tak snaked his right arm through the easy opening he had just created, held the man’s head up with the crossface so that he couldn’t tuck his chin to prevent the choke, and locked his right arm around the man’s neck. Tak’s right bicep lined up with the right carotid artery as the radius bone of his right forearm lined up with the man’s left carotid. Then he released the crossface, his left arm already in position to lock his right hand over his left bicep, as his left hand then went behind the man’s head and pushed it forward. Tak squeezed his elbows together and expanded his chest, instantly cutting off all blood supply to the man’s brain with the rear naked choke as his right bicep and radius bone pinched both of the man’s carotid arteries completely closed. The man squirmed in futile resistance as Tak counted down in his mind…5, 4, 3, 2… the man stopped moving and went limp. He had gone completely unconscious. Tak released the hold and took his handcuffs out and cuffed the man’s hands behind his back. After he had Ghost handcuffed and was sitting on his back, he grabbed his radio and keyed the mike. “Graves to Braxton, you had traffic for me, over?” Amy replied frantically, “Tak, there’s reports coming in on several radio channels… ohh my God Tak.” Tak furrowed his brow, “Calm down Amy. What is going on, over?” His radio squawked again, “Some kind of explosion at the police department. It sounds bad.”

  CHAPTER 16: LITTLE EARL

  5 minutes earlier/ 11:35AM the day of the crash

  Little Earl eyeballed the police station nervously from across the street. He wore a large, heavy green military ALICE pack that he struggled to walk with. He pulled his bandanna down off of his face since he didn’t want to arouse any suspicion. He crossed the street without checking traffic and almost got run over as a truck slammed on its brakes, horn blaring. He slapped the hood with both hands, gave the elderly driver the double flying birds and said "Watch where you're going you idiot!" Then he scurried on across the street and into the station as the driver shook his head and drove off. He noticed how hectic the police station was and murmured to himself "everything's going to be ok Earl... you can do this. Don’t wimp out now." Officers and civilians were rushing in and out of the big old brick building. He looked down the street at the historic clock tower in the center of the town square; he tried to figure out what time the clock face read, but he couldn’t decipher the complicated code of a clock face since it wasn’t in digital format. All he knew what that it was time for him to earn his colors.

  He nervously stepped into the police department, unnoticed amidst the several people coming and going as they dealt with their various emergencies. A heavyset, mid 40’s black woman was at the front of a line of a dozen people at the front desk. She was irate and yelling at the officer there, “I don’t care about your damn rules, let my boy go; we have to get out of town now! He was the victim here! That other boy hit him first!” As the officer argued with her, Earl kept his head down and walked past the rear of the line to a small waiting area where at least ten people were seated in four rows of white, hard, plastic chairs attached to the floor. Securely drilled into a wall in front of them was a line of metal loops with a solid wooden bench beneath them. Handcuffed to one of the loops was a dark haired Caucasian woman with a face worn by a hard life. Earl recognized her as Angelina, a member of the Sons of Freedom. She was in her mid-20’s but could have passed for 40 due to her long history of meth use. She was wearing tight jeans with the knees torn out, a low cut, tight black t-shirt with angel wings on the back, and had a camo bandana tied around her right wrist. He’d seen her at the meetings but didn’t know her well since she had ignored him, like most women did. Her bottom lip was bleeding and she had scrapes on her head; obviously she’d be in some sort of scuffle recently. She noticed Earl and knew of his mission this day. Her eyes grew huge and she seemed shocked to see him. Earl didn't like seeing her in here; he knew that she knew of his mission and could mess it up. He tried to ignore her and he sat in the back row of seats, trying to casually remove his backpack and sit it on the floor underneath his chair. Angelina aimed a loud whisper in his direction, revealing her rotting teeth, "Earl, get me the hell out of here before you do anything!" The people within earshot of her gave first her and then Earl curious looks. He tried to ignore her as he zipped the backpack open just enough for him to reach in it and push the power button on a cell phone, turning it on, which armed the device contained in the pack. Wires were hooked up from the phone to several pounds of C-4 explosive material. Gunner had instructed his bomb man to make sure that there was more C-4 than was needed to decimate the entire building, and he would remotely detonate it by calling the phone attached to it and entering a four digit code.

  A door that lead deeper into the building suddenly opened next to Angelina as an officer walked out of it, escorting a small white handcuffed man. As Earl zipped up the bag, Angelina said to him frantically, "Dammit Earl, get me the hell out of here before you blow that damn thing up!" Everyone around her looked from her to Earl to his bag in shock, processing the information they just heard. Earl grabbed his personal cell phone and hit a speed dial button to report back to Gunner, as he had been instructed to do when the bomb was armed. Gunner picked up, "Are you in place?" The officer who just stepped into the room, a middle aged white man with a grey flat top haircut, looked to Earl and put his hand on the butt of his pistol as he said in a commanding voice, "What is she talking about? Let me see your bag Sir!" Earl stood up and began quickly walking towards the door, leaving his bag where it was as he ignored the o
fficer. He spoke into his phone, "Boss, the bag is in place but… uhhh…." The officer drew his gun, aimed in at Earl and yelled "Sir, do not move! What's in your bag?! A half dozen people within earshot, having put the pieces together, jumped up and bolted for the door. Those that were waiting in line at the front desk and heard Angelina did the same. One of them yelled "BOMB!" Gunner could hear it all through the phone. As the crowd ran towards the door between Earl and the officer, Earl decided to take action. Shielded by the crowd, he dropped the phone, drew his knife from its sheath and ran around behind the tail end of them as the officer lowered his pistol so that he wouldn’t aim at any of the people running by. Earl darted around the last man rushing forward where he slammed his knife into the officer's throat just above his body armor. At the same instant the officer was raising his weapon and fired into Earl's stomach at point blank range. The blast was deafening in the enclosed building. The officer fell back, dropped his weapon and clutched the knife sticking pommel-deep into his throat as he gurgled and choked on the blood pouring out of the new hole. Angelina screamed and frantically tried to jerk her arm out of the cuff that held her to the wall, as Earl yelped in pain. He turned on the ground and began crawling back towards the cell phone he'd dropped, leaving a trail of blood on the floor behind him. Other officer's started running into the room as Earl picked up his phone and strained out a few words to his god-figure. "He got me Gunner, the pig got me. But I got him too, I shore did. I'm not gonna make it boss... go ahead and blow it." Gunner spoke to Earl one last time, "It's ok Earl... job well done. You've earned your camo colors." Then he heard silence for a few moments on the other end as Gunner used a throw away phone to call the phone that was attached the bomb. Angelina yelled again in a panic, hoping her leader would hear her through the phone and save her; "Get me the hell out of here Gunner, I'm cuffed to the wall!” Within 10 seconds from the time the shot was fired a half dozen cops were in the room with weapons drawn, rushing to handcuff Earl and checking on their injured officer as they accessed the situation. More were on the way, running in from the parking lot and from deeper inside the building. Earl smiled, knowing that he was finally an important part of something bigger than him and he had earned his colors. He was a Son of Freedom. That was his final thought as the bomb detonated in an enormous explosion that destroyed half a city block and left a three foot deep crater in the ground where the police department had been.