Opening the envelope and sliding out the letter that was printed on matching rich, creamy paper, Jackson was shocked to see that combat training was still included heavily in the schedule and not only included, but that their training had actually doubled. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been much of a shock. Of course they would want more warriors out there as soon as possible, but who were they keeping out of the field to train them?
There was no point in trying to think too hard about it tonight, Jackson laid back on his bed again. They were sure to find out what was going on tomorrow.
Turning out the lights, Jackson lay in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. Sleep just wouldn’t come to him. All he could do was lie there and wait.
Chapter Eight.
The very next evening, Jackson awoke early again and headed out to the showers, disappointed that this time he was to find there were already others there who had beaten him to it. Obviously he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep and had the idea of getting an early start. It was upsetting, though. He already looked forward to his own time and space, but a spoil to his routine was something he was just going to have to get used to.
Oh well, never mind. Only about another eighteen hours to go before he could get some peace and quiet.
At least the uneasy feeling was easier to deal with now that he knew the cause. He wasn’t going crazy, which was something he was thankful for.
Keeping to himself, Jackson took a quick shower and shave and was ready to make his way to breakfast before training when his path was blocked. Glancing up to see who was in his way, he saw Denver standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a moronic grin on his face.
“Do you need a tissue?” Laughter bubbled in his voice and Jackson could feel his hackles start to rise.
Holding his ground, Jackson glared back. “Move out of the way, Denver.”
“Aww, what’s the matter, big man? What you going to do if I don’t?” Denver paused for dramatic effect, “Cry?”
Oh, crap. So, that’s what this was all about. Jackson’s reaction to the death of their leader. Denver was even more stupid than he looked if he was willing to make a big deal out of this. It wasn’t like he felt this way on purpose. If he’d have had a choice, he wouldn’t have felt anything but rage. Bad move on Denver’s part. Real bad.
“I. Said. Move.”
Denver puffed up his chest a little more and turned to grin at Lewis who was standing by his shoulder, trying his hardest to imitate Denver’s stance. He failed miserably, the poor boy. Lewis was one of the unfortunate few who didn’t naturally possess the physique of a warrior. He was a skinny little runt who didn’t look like he could fight his way out of a wet paper bag. The poor kid looked more like fourteen than eighteen. Turning back to Jackson, the grin on Denver’s face sort of froze in place and he seemed to deflate a little.
Jackson turned his head slightly to check out his peripheral vision. Something had to be up. There had to be a reason for the subtle change in the douche bags face. And surprise, surprise, what did he see? A group of about fifteen trainee warriors of all ages, all standing behind him, and Jackson recognised them all as some who had been affected in the same way that he had been over Bartholomew’s death.
“You want to make something of it?” a gruff voice just behind Jackson’s left shoulder barked at Denver, who now looked like he wished that he could crawl back under his slimy little rock.
“You start on one, you start on us all.” another voice added.
Denver looked like he had lost his voice, and most of his confidence along with it. And poor little Lewis looked ready to piss his pants.
A large trainee warrior, who looked like he was possibly in his last year of training stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jackson. “I really think that this is the time that you should walk away, am I right?”
Jackson couldn’t open his mouth. He was in total shock that Denver had pulled this stunt in the first place, and even more so that he had the backing of all of these warriors that he had never even spoken to before. He could happily fight his own battles, but this was what the life of a warrior was like, having each other’s back.
Denver turned to check on Lewis and found the space next to him empty - Lewis had already hot footed it out of there. The look on his face when he finally realised that he was on his own was a pure classic.
Turning back to the warriors and looking a bit like a rabbit caught in the headlights, Denver muttered something inaudible and turned tail and trotted out of there as fast as he could.
Jackson was totally lost for words. Looking around at each and every one of them in turn, each nodded or bumped fists or clapped him on the shoulder, showing him that he wasn’t alone in this feeling. That he wasn’t alone here in this school. They didn’t judge him for feelings that were out of his control.
This was what he had been looking forward to about becoming a warrior. The extended family. It was only his third day here and yet he already had all these people that he could turn to. It was something more than friendship. Something much more deeply ingrained into each warrior. The bond between warriors was indescribable. They would fight to the death for one another, take a bullet, jump into the line of fire for one another. Even Denver would be protected like he was family, no matter how much of a dick he was. He was one of them, after all.
“Hey, man.” Jase jabbed him in the ribs and Dylan pushed his way through the trainees who were still milling about and Jackson was pleased to see that he still had his friends by his side also. It would really be a lonely place here without friends to rely on, as Denver was sure to find out, sooner or later. Friendship had its own place. Different to a warrior bond, of course, but just as important.
“What you gonna do, Jax? You gonna stand there blubbering all day? Come on, let’s go. Trey’s waiting for us downstairs.” Dylan chuckled at him. Jackson and the rest of them knew that there was no malice in him and the comment slid by as harmlessly it had been said and they turned to head out for a bite to eat before they hit the combat rooms.
Jackson wasn’t too surprised to see a non-warrior Professor waiting for them as he entered the class and he took his seat at the back of the room with the rest of his crew. They all waited in patient silence until Professor Fieldman cleared her throat and took centre stage of the class.
“Well, boys, I’m sure you can all appreciate that this is a unique situation for all of us and that we will all have to work together to make our way through it. All of the warriors are in strategy meetings at the moment, so I will be overseeing your class for the time being.”
There was a small snigger from the front of the class and anyone would have bet money on it that it had come from Denver, but Professor Fieldman simply glared at him very briefly before continuing, “So, today, we have some trainees who are in their final year coming here to assist us.
“They will be coming in to run through some of the finer points of your basic training with you. Please, co-operate to your fullest ability as this is not only about you and the start of your training, but their graduation date had also been brought forward. This exercise will count towards part of their practical training. All classes have now been accelerated.
“We need our warriors.” she said, calmly but with emotion clouding her eyes.
And, on cue, in walked about a dozen trainees, all of them in their final year and built like stone walls, and all of them had been in the bathroom earlier this morning, standing solidly behind Jackson.
Each and every one of them made a point to either wave or nod at Jackson and to turn and glare menacingly at Denver.
Well, this should be fun!
Walking around the room to each of the new trainee’s, Professor Fieldman handed out a brand new information pamphlet, explaining in more detail the changes to the combat training routine for the time being as deemed appropriate by the council. As she walked from student to student, she informed them all that their parents ha
d been informed of the changes and that they should all read it in its entirety in their own time. Informing the families of the warrior’s plans was a mere formality. They were adults and in control of their own lives. And, they wouldn’t have a say in this, anyway. Graduation times would be reduced, training would be increased, new exercises introduced by the council as they saw fit and schedules would be changed. That was that. No arguments would be offered.
“Right, boys. It’s time for you to pair up and show us what you’re made of.” Professor Fieldman stepped back to let the older trainees get to work.
Jackson collapsed into bed in total exhaustion. That had been the most physically exhausting day that he had ever had in his entire life. They had combat training for a full ten hours and every single muscle in his body screamed at the exertion. He wasn’t even sure that he could make it down to dinner. He didn’t have any more get up and go in him. It had long since gotten up and gone hours ago.
Every part of his body ached with an intensity that he had never felt before, but it was satisfying. This was what he was here to do and the sooner he was trained up, the sooner he would be out in the world kicking Mortuorum ass.
He was surprised that the extended combat training had really taken it out of him so much. He‘d thought that he would have been fit enough to keep up but those guys sure had shown them all up. Man, it had been a really, really hard day. Their new schedule meant that they had been in combat training with the nearly graduated student’s non-stop. Well, except for a few short intermittent breaks to quickly cram some food down themselves, but that was about it. They were already working them to breaking point.
They’d spent their day getting pummelled and his body was screaming out for a little relaxation. Even though it had all been minimal-contact, he still ached all over. The foam padding only absorbed the initial sting of the hit. Jackson was at his physical peak, so how some of the other guys had survived it was a mystery to him.
All he wanted to do now was to sleep, preferably for an entire week. Within seconds of his head hitting the pillow, he was out like a light.
Chapter Nine.
“OhmygodIreallycan’tbelievethatthisishappeningyou’resoluckyIwishthatitwasmeyou‘regoingtohavesuchagreattimewhattimeishepickingyouupwhereareyougoingwhatareyougoingtowear?”
Lana had gone out of her way to come here to Aisline’s work to gush over her good fortune at landing a date with the one and only Jordan Battilier. Yay, me, Ash thought to herself glumly. At least one of them was excited about her date - Lana hadn’t even come up for air yet, she was that excited. Well, as far as Ash was concerned, she could have him. If only it was that easy to get out of it, then she’d happily trade places.
Honestly, though. Coming in here, to where she worked (albeit part-time, but hey) and basically skipping around the diner, clapping her hands together like a little girl was a tad too much for Aisline to bear. Sometimes, Lana could be so bloody immature and it really grated on her nerves. Right now, it was taking all her self-control and restraint not to smack her one straight in the gob. Sure, she was genuinely excited for her, but she was also too blind to see that Ash really wasn’t into this date, and Lana rubbing it in was only making it worse.
It was still only early evening, with the sun’s lingering rays still reaching their spidery fingers out over the horizon, the day cooling rapidly around them. When she’d made her way in to work for the late shift, she always took the late shift since there wasn’t much choice for her really, there had been a definite chill in the air. You know how it feels when the sky is threatening snow? Yeah, it was like that. Perhaps she’d get snowed in here at the diner and they’d have to cancel their date? She could only wish.
“Why are you not more excited? I can’t believe it. I wish it were me.” Lana clutched her hands at her chest in an overly wistful manner before giggling. The girl could be so dramatic on occasion and Ash wished that she’d hidden in the back. Hey, they were best friends and had been for a really long time, but she really could do without all this giggling annoyance right now.
“Yeah, I kind of wish it was you, too.” she muttered, too quietly for Lana to hear.
Aisline couldn’t honestly believe it either. At first, she had thought that maybe it was some kind of warped joke. All of a sudden, Jordan had started popping in for a coffee on his way into work, or when he was passing by, or just using any excuse that he could think of. Sure, he was one of the sexiest Matris guys that she had ever laid eyes on, but really? Seriously? He hadn’t looked twice at her back when they had gone to school together, so what changed?
He’d dropped by the diner for the sixth night in a row, casually trying to draw her into conversation, before dropping the bombshell of the date invitation. Ash had been so taken aback that she had agreed to go out with him before she even realised what she was doing. After agreeing a day and time, she’d watched his fine ass saunter out of the diner, and the second he’d exited, the doubts had kicked in. He was nice enough to look at, but Jordan had not been at the front of the queue when personalities were being handed out. Looks were all he really had going for him, and for Aisline, that wasn’t enough. He was as dull as dish water. He was the kind of guy who traded only on his looks because he had nothing else to offer, no depth to him at all. No sense of humour.
“Yeah, sure. So lucky.” Ash replied, a little louder as she checked out her reflection in the stainless steel backing that was behind the counter. At least she wouldn’t have to get dressed up or anything like that.
Lana had come into the diner and tried her damnedest to get Aisline to change and make a bit of an effort before Jordan was due to show up, but she wasn’t having any of it. He knew that he was picking her up as soon as he shift finished, and anyway, she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. There was no point in going to any effort when she deeply regretted agreeing to it.
Plus, she wasn’t so much in the mood to dress up or go out at the moment. With the grief that had been rolling through her body for the last few days, she just didn’t have it in her. The death of their leader had hit her family hard. She’d hoped that Jordan would have had the decency to call her and check that she was okay for tonight, then she would have been able to lay it on thick and back out of this nightmare. But, no such luck. He hadn’t even shown his face back in the diner since the night she had agreed to go out with him, and she didn’t have his number, so she was stuck.
And she was surprised that her parents were letting her out at a time like this. Hell, they were positively encouraging her. They were as excited about this as Lana was. Shame Ash wasn’t feeling the same.
Her family and the entire community were in deep mourning after the announcement that their leader had passed away under suspiciously violent circumstances. But, no. Not even that monumental incident could get her out of this evening. She’d tried to lay it on as thick as she could get away with, despite the fact that she had truly felt horrendous, but her mother simply gave her a hug and said that an evening out with such a ‘nice’ boy would take her mind off of the grief.
Terrific.
Rolling her eyes at her reflection, she knew that her mother would throw a complete fit if she saw how she looked. With her wrinkled uniform and hair that looked like it could use a good brush, her mother’s old-school style and grace would have been shocked to the very core. Lana had come around before sunset to straighten and style her hair, but that was all she let her loose on. If Lana had had her way, she’d have been turning up for her shift at the diner in a floor length ball gown. Not a cat in hells chance of that. And anyway, her hair didn’t look too bad. She’d just run her hands through it one too many times.
She had conceded and wore minimal make up, which was quite a move for her. Aisline was naturally pretty and didn’t need cosmetic enhancements, but she’d done the whole mascara and lip gloss thing. But, that was where she drew the line.
With a sigh, she turned to look at Jean, who nodded eagerly. Her heart gave a ner
vous leap. It was time.
Jean was one of the owners of the diner. Things had gotten better in recent years for the Matris race. Now that the human world was developing at a faster rate, everywhere seemed to be opening up twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. That made the lives of the vampires who ventured out into the human world so much easier. At least they had a variety of places that they could go no, rather than just the Matris owned establishments.
This diner was, in fact, a Matris owned business. This little diner had been open since way before Ash had even been born. Her father had been bringing her here for more years than she cared to remember. They served the best strawberry milkshakes on the planet, and they were not a habit that she’d kicked as she’d gotten older. It was part of the reason she had managed to land a part time job here - Jean had known her since she was ‘knee high to a grasshopper’. Although, they did have to limit the amount of free milkshake that she could consume…..
The place was warm and familiar to her, almost like a second home. Hell, Jean and her husband, David, were often a hell of a lot warmer than her own parents. Her mother was strictly old school, keeping to the Matris traditions and shunning the human world. She wouldn’t even admit that she loved TV and Aisline had caught her many times watching her favourite soaps, sitting on the edge of the sofa with a tissue in her hand. Her parents hadn’t even wanted her to work. They believed that a woman’s place was in the home, but Ash had put her foot down. She’d needed a bit of independence while she worked through her studies, and had been here for the last year or so.
Jean and Lana were grinning at each other like demented Cheshire cats. She didn’t need Jean to tell her that it was time. Lana dancing around the diner like a complete idiot kind of gave it away. Aisline was tempted to ask her again if she fancied taking her place on the date, but she couldn’t get Lana to stand still long enough to talk coherently.
The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel Page 6