I Am Phantom

by Sean Fletcher

Matt snatched another tool off the table. “Atmospheric water condenser based on deriving molecular particles from areas of low relative humidity.”

  What the what now?

  “You want to create water from thin air?” Melanie said in disbelief. “Guys, you have to have something to show for at the end of the year or you’ll be kicked out of the program. The guidelines clearly state the project must have practical, pioneering attributes to the scientific community. This is ambitious, granted, but not plausible. If you can’t think of anything, I can find a professor to pair you up with—”

  “This is pioneering!” Cody said indignantly. “We’re just not entirely sure if it works yet. Matt started it and I’m helping him.”

  “Not much, I might add,” Matt grumbled. Cody glared at him but Matt didn’t notice. “The water particle generator will be ready by the end of the year,” Matt said. “We just need some more parts and time.” He bent something and tightened something else. “Think of the applications! No more fire trucks and fire hydrants, water in areas where no water previously existed, humanitarian efforts around the world—the list is endless.”

  Melanie sighed in defeat and turned to Cody. “I brought my notebook with some things I was tinkering with if you need ideas. I’d be willing to let you work on it if you add my name to the final report.” She pulled out a notebook and flipped it open a few pages. Cody hovered near her.

  “You’d let me do that?”

  “This isn’t anything major, but still, don’t tell anyone. It’s just to get your ideas flowing.”

  Cody stopped at one page and pointed. “Why didn’t you do this? It looks really good.”

  Melanie quickly flipped to the next page. She blushed slightly. “It’s nothing, but thanks.”

  Cody flipped another page. “What about this?”

  “That’s—”

  “No, hold on.” He stopped her from turning the page again. “It’s on the right track, just needs a little work.”

  “I want it to support a thousand pounds and be pocket sized.”

  “On a wire that thin?”

  “For developmental and construction purposes. It has to be really durable too. Abrasion resistant. No material I’ve used has held up yet.” Cody lightly pulled the notebook from her and pored over it.

  “It wouldn’t be so much the material as the weaving. That’d be in the production phase.”

  “You could do it?”

  “Definitely.”

  Matt suddenly got up from stooping over the machine. “I’m going to turn it on.”

  He stepped back as did Cody and Melanie, both looking very unsure.

  Matt pressed a button. At first nothing happened and then the thing shuddered, sparked and fell over. Matt frowned. “More time. I need more time.”

  Chapter Four

  Queensbury

  After we grabbed some dinner, Cody, Matt and I walked the short distance to the gym, five or six blocks from the outskirts of campus.

  I don’t know what I was expecting when I went into the city. Seeing tons of police on my first visit hadn’t made the best first impression. Matt was obviously nervous since his head was on a constant swivel as we finally found the gym stuffed between a couple shops on Park St.

  It smelled bad. A large mat had been laid out in the back between hanging punching bags, and some other people dressed in workout clothes stood around the edges talking. The sound of clattering weights came from the workout equipment to our right.

  A man with a buzz cut and tattoos up and down his arm approached us from behind the front desk. “You guys look new. You here for the karate class?”

  Cody thumbed at me. “He is. We’re just here to pump some iron.”

  The man suddenly looked worried as he assessed both of them, like he couldn’t believe they had even managed to open the door to get inside.

  “That’s all good. Welcome, then. I’m Darian, the assistant manager and head karate instructor.” He produced three forms and some pens. “You guys get a free month trial period since you’re students. You ever done karate before?” Darian asked, as I started filling out the form.

  “I’ve taken Kung-Fu,” I said. “Does that count?”

  “Absolutely. Kung-Fu’s a little less common than, say, Shotokan or American Tai Kwan Do. This class doesn’t focus on one type. Most people are just here for the sparring.”

  Perfect.

  We finished the forms and handed them back.

  “We’ll hit the weights,” Cody said, dragging Matt over to the bench press.

  “Take it easy to start there, champs,” Darian yelled after them. “Come on, Drake, we’re getting started.”

  All of the guys were older than me. Most had tattoos like Darian. I was surprised to see a girl my age. She was laughing at something one of the other guys had said, making her black hair bob up and down. She was toned, for a girl, I mean, and her eyes were both kind and courageous. She had to be if she was here among all these men.

  “Hey hey! Fresh meat, Darian?” One of the guys yelled when I came over.

  Everybody, including the girl, looked at me. I felt like I was being sized up. The girl’s gaze lingered then she returned to talking.

  “Let’s get started,” Darian said. “This week is Brazilian jiu jitsu first before sparring.” He split us into groups and walked between each, correcting them and showing a better technique. He made his rounds over to me. He stood there for a minute, watching me go through the moves.

  You’re pretty good,” he noted. “Actually,” he dropped into his own pose of the one I was doing, “that’s perfect. You pick up quick. Hey! Newbie here’s outdoing you all. Let’s pick it up!” The others grumbled and the girl shot me a nasty look.

  After an hour spent punching defenseless bags, and learning jiu jitsu holds, grips and throws, Darian clapped his hands.

  “That’s enough. Thomas, what’s wrong with your neck?”

  Thomas gestured towards me. “Newbie squirt pinned me when we were practicing triangle holds.”

  Darian burst out laughing. “We’ll all get to spar him eventually, then. Get your gear and be back in five. Drake,” he pulled me over as everyone went to their duffel bags lying on the side of the ring. “you can borrow my gear until you get your own.”

  “We’re just sparring, right?”

  Darian nodded. “Yep. Casual sparring. But we always wear gear. Some of the guys get a little intense but it’s all for fun. Any style allowed. Just get a good hit in and don’t hurt anyone.”

  His knee, hand and elbow pads were a little too loose and smelled funky, but I put them on and stood awkwardly outside the mat. I caught Cody giving me a ‘what the heck are you doing’ look while Matt struggled to lift the bench press bar behind him. A couple of the other gym patrons had stopped their workouts to come watch.

  Darian started breaking us up in to pairs. He paused when he came to me.

  “Drake, you and Liz are both pretty new, so you can spar each other. Use that corner over there.”

  The girl with the black hair and the courageous eyes, Liz, met me there. “Liz, huh?” I said. She finished tightening the strap of her glove. “Elizabeth. You a freshman at Queensbury?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  The glove finally on, she pounded it into her other fist a few times. “Yep.” I took a place in front of her.

  “Elizabeth what?”

  She smirked and bowed. “Beat me and I’ll tell you.”

  We began.

  I went with Kung Fu, which was obviously most familiar. I crouched low, my legs spread wide and my arms strong and poised like a cobra waiting to strike. Some of the spectators whistled and laughed. Liz cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. She planted her foot back. One of her big toes was missing.

  She had backed away, fists up in a style almost mirroring boxing. She jabbed. It was focused and unwavering, but nowhere near my speed. I swatted it away. As I did I felt the urge to perform a jiu jitsu hold I had just learned. The tran
sition seemed easy, like I was meant to use them together. Just like kung fu, I had instantly mastered another fighting technique and started integrating it into my own style.

  Liz punched a few more times, each aiming for a different part on my body. Testing me. I let her. I could have won in a snap, but I enjoyed fighting, enjoyed fighting her. It was the experience more than the victory that was worth it.

  We circled each other. Liz had dropped her pose and instead seemed to be searching my defense for a weak spot, like a tiger pacing her cage, looking for an opening.

  “Wrap it up, people,” Darian called. “Come on.”

  Liz jumped at me then. I sensed, rather than saw, her muscles tense the moment before she moved. I planted my body and shifted back.

  Like she had telegraphed, her punch came at my chest. I sidestepped. The urge to follow through with the move came again and I didn’t suppress it this time. I gripped her arm, thrust my body as leverage under hers and, using her own momentum, tossed her like a sack of rice.

  Liz thudded to the ground. A sympathetic ‘Ooooooo’ went through the bystanders. Liz pounded the mat and looked up at me.

  “I see you have no problems with hitting a girl.”

  “None whatsoever.” I helped her up. “Your name, please.” Liz brushed herself off. “Elizabeth Coltrac. And you?”

  “Drake Sinclair.”

  “Fine, Drake. I won’t take it easy on you next time.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Same time next week,” Darian told me once the class was over. “You pick those moves up naturally.”

  “Thanks again.” I shook his hand and joined Cody and Matt on the sidewalk. I had tried to find Liz afterwards but she must have left already. I felt only a little disappointment. Really.

  “You looked like you were having fun,” Cody said as we started walking back towards campus.

  “It was fun,” I agreed. “More than I thought it would be.”

  “The fighting or the girl?” I shot him a dirty look as an answer. Cody held up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Just asking. So you’ll go back?”

  “Yes. For both,” I added.

  “No,” Matt said. I noticed him massaging his chest. “Never again.” Cody rolled his eyes.

  “I only dropped the bar on you once, Matt. I’m sorry.”

  We turned the corner. It had grown dark while we were inside. The buildings around us hampered the last of the sunlight, making it seem darker than it should have.

  “We’re lost,” Matt said. I looked up from the sidewalk. Nothing around us looked familiar.

  “Backtrack,” I said. “We only took a couple turns on our way here.”

  “Four turns, Drake buddy,” Cody said.

  “Three,” Matt said. We headed back towards the last road. As I looked around, my mind played through free-running routes and courses I could create out of the infrastructure. Fire escapes were jungle gyms; rooftops were high wires, light posts were gymnastics bars. The danger of it all never crossed my mind as my imaginary self deftly leapt and flipped ahead of us.

  “Drake. Earth to Drake. I asked you a question,” Cody said.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “He wanted to know your thoughts on the level of chemistry between him and Melan—”

  “Stop!” Cody said, his face growing red. He shuffled his feet a bit. “Geez, Matt. But… yeah, I—I was kind of wondering, you know…you have any idea…if Melanie may like me?”

  I snorted but put up my hands before Cody could get the wrong idea. “No, it’s not you. You’re asking the wrong person, Cody. Have I noticed anything? I have no idea what I’m looking for.”

  In truth, I had noticed them spending a lot of time together, even when not in the Lab, and especially considering the year had just started. And Melanie seemed to laugh more when Cody was around. Was that a sign? It was possible something was there. Or maybe I was reading it all wrong. Also possible.

  “I just thought…I don’t know,” Cody said. What do you think, Matt?”

  “Me? You want my opinion?” He looked totally put off, like we had just asked him to jump through a flaming hoop on a snowmobile. I’m still learning metaphors.

  “You’re a guy,” Cody said. “And you’re our friend. What do you think?”

  Matt shrugged his slender shoulders. His hand started massaging his bruised chest again.

  “I think she likes you.”

  Cody’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”

  “She puts up with you. Nobody would put up with you unless they liked you.”

  I laughed. Then I stopped. Somebody had screamed. Cody and Matt both looked just behind us.

  “You heard it too?” I said.

  “Yeah,” Cody said. “Was that someone—?”

  Another scream, followed by breaking glass.

  “Come on,” I said. I hoofed it back one road and took a turn down a narrow street. We definitely hadn’t come this way, but whatever was going on hadn’t sounded good.

  Cody and Matt huffed behind me. “Drake, I think we should—whew—call the—police.” This time the person sounded in agony.

  “You do that, I’m going to go see what it is.” The road came to a T. There was nothing to my right, but to my left…

  “Back up!” I hissed.

  Cody nearly dropped his phone as I pushed them back. “Hello? Yeah, we have—what do we have, Drake?”

  Four men in hoodies stood in the middle of the street, all circled around a broken form. A sobbing woman huddled against a car just behind them. One of the men kicked the guy on the ground.

  “Stop it!” The woman sobbed.

  “Give us the keys, man,” one of the hoodies said, ignoring her. Give us the keys and we’ll stop hurting you. You want us to hurt your girlfriend too?”

  “Come on, man,” another said. “Maybe he don’t have them. I don’t want to kill anybody, get it?”

  “Shut up,” the broadest of the four said. He bent down and rolled the man over so that he faced us. His face was a bloody mass. His fingers were broken. “Listen, pal. There ain’t anybody here to help. All we want is your car. Give me the keys or we may have to strip search your girlfriend to find them. You want us to do that?”

  “Car jacking,” I said. “And one guy in really bad shape.” Cody relayed the information and a minute later hung up.

  “They’re on their way,” he said.

  “They won’t be in time,” I said. “You guys stay out of sight.”

  “We can—Drake!” They couldn’t do anything, but I could. I wouldn’t stand by and watch this man bleed out on the pavement.

  I approached the men from behind, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

  “Hey!” I said, holding up my hands. They turned. The broad one stood up. I tried to read their posture. A couple looked ready to fight, tire irons clenched in their fists. The other two just looked annoyed. The broad one gestured with his iron.

  “Get the hell outta here, man. You don’t want any of this.”

  “I don’t want trouble. Just stop hurting him.”

  “You have a car we can borrow instead?”

  These guys must have really been in need of some transportation. “I don’t, but I know it’s not worth killing someone over.”

  “Man, you don’t know jack.”

  “But I do know Jill,” I said, trying to calm him down. The man looked confused. “Jack and Jill, you know…the nursery rhyme…” I added weakly. Screw it. “Just leave him alone.”

  I heard pounding feet as Cody and—wow—even Matt ran up behind me.

  “More?” Another guy said. “Let’s get out of here, before they call the cops.”

  The broad shouldered guy swore. “You couldn’t stay out of it, could you?” He leapt at me, iron raised above his head way too slow. I blocked his arm and twisted the tire iron from his grip. He tried to punch my stomach but I shoved him away.

  I spun out of instinct more than anything else and heard t
he sound of the iron pass right by me. He was in perfect position for me to—

  I grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him closer to me. He let out a startled, “Wha—” before I gripped his wrist, popped my elbow into his throat and tossed him over my shoulder.

  The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. Not an hour after coming from a class about fighting, street fighting, no less, and I was street fighting. If that didn’t prove fate had a sense of humor I didn’t know what did.

  I had forgotten the other three guys. I turned in time for one of them to punch me in the chin. Hard. I stumbled out of range and rubbed it. I had faced more than one opponent in scenarios at the monastery. But those had been primarily for technique, not for actual combat. I would need to readjust my strategy. I couldn’t be content with finishing a pretty set of moves if it only took one guy down and left me exposed. I would need to adjust, use the training I had just learned. Trial by fire.

  Two guys charged me. I picked one and tackled him. We hit the ground hard and I drove the back of my head into his face with a CRACK and kicked out with both legs at the other guy. They connected and he fell back and gave me enough time to get up.

  I checked where Cody and Matt were. Matt had picked up a fallen tire iron and held it hesitantly in his hands. Cody—

  The other thug punched Cody in the face so hard I heard it from where I was standing. He toppled over, blood streaming from his nose and chin. The thug went to follow with his tire iron.

  I moved, filled with a rage the likes of which I had never felt. For that instant all my learning with the monks about patience vaporized, replaced by an intense hunger to hurt those who had hurt my friends very, very badly.

  I saw every movement, frame by frame, every detail as though time slowed for me alone. The man’s curled lip, spittle flying from his mouth, the streetlight glinting off his tire iron, how many steps it would take to execute a kick to his stomach.

  I flowed like I had the hundreds of times in the monastery courtyard. Under the other guy’s arm, cupping his wrist in my hand and hurling him like he weighed nothing into the other man.

  With the man who had punched Cody, everything just kind of happened. I blinked and the guy was a bloody, groaning mess on the pavement, his arm bent the wrong way.