One night, I got back from my run to find Zenigra waiting for me by the door. He was dressed as if he were heading out into the cold night.
"Where ya going, chum?"
"Around back the hut fer a bit. Yer comin’ with me."
I shrugged and stepped back out the door, curious. We walked around to the back of the hut and I found that Zenigra had already been out here. Six of the electric tiki torches that had been set up in the cafeteria during Thanksgiving were lit and formed a circle about five meters wide in the dirt.
"What’s this?" I asked.
By way of an answer, Zenigra stepped into the circle and beckoned for me to join him. I walked slowly into the center of the circle, looking around. My booted feet crunched against the hard soil of the ground. The air was chilly, but my body was still radiating heat from my run and I couldn't feel the cold yet.
"Uh." I managed to say before one of Zenigra's large hands was in motion. It was difficult but I was able to track the hand’s movement even in the dim light cast by the tiki torches. It took me a second to realize that the fingers on the hand were curled into a fist and that it was heading right at me. If I'd known what to expect, I might have had time to get out of the way. Zenigra was big and powerful, but he wasn't all that fast from what I’d seen. My confusion barely had time to register and the feeling of betrayal had only just taken root when his fist hit me in the chest.
All the air escaped from my lungs with a guttural sound more suited to a caveman than to a teenage boy. I was knocked back several paces and I could tell immediately, given the fact that I was still on my feet, that he had only hit me with a fraction of his true strength. I clutched at my chest, inhaling sharply in an attempt to get my breath back.
"What the hell?" I gasped after a moment. I was confused. This was so utterly out of character for Zenigra. Thoughts raced through my mind. Had I done something wrong? Had Piner finally gone to Lucas and told him he'd seen me eavesdropping so many months ago? Had I missed Zenigra's birthday?
"It's time you learned to defend yourself."
I furrowed my brow in confusion, "What? What are you talking about?"
"Just what I said. You gotta learn how to hold your own in a fight."
"Zenny, I won't never be able to hold my own in a fight against you. You're freaking huge." I had managed to get most of my breath back now. Anger was starting to build up inside me. What the hell was his problem anyway? Luring me out here and then attacking me for no reason.
"Not with that attitude. You're smaller yeah, but you're quick. Nothing someone my size fears more than not being able ta get his hands around the chummer he's fighting cause the baka keeps slipping through his fingers."
"What's this all about mano, really?"
"It's about you being able to defend yourself if ya need to. I ain't always gonna be around to do it for ya, ya scan?"
"Yeah, but come on. I'm not a fighter.”
"Not yet. But gimme a couple weeks and you'll be able to hold your own."
The idea of learning how to fight from someone with as much real-life experience as Zenigra scared me. I had always wanted to take karate lessons while I was growing up. My parents had never been able to afford it.
This was something different though. A whole world away from the cozy Dojo with the good-natured aging Sensei, I had imagined as a child. What if I got in a lucky shot and he got pissed off and snapped my neck like a toothpick? On second thought though, any lucky shot I got in probably wouldn't feel like much more than a warm breeze to a chummer like him.
"I guess," I replied, reluctantly.
"That's the spirit. You ever been in a real fight before?”
"A couple times yeah, never won one though," I said, my face reddening as I thought of how Piner threw me across the table.
"Good. That'll give you some motivation. There’s some stuff I can teach you and some stuff you'll just have to learn on your own. But I'll do my best to get your mind right for whatever might come your way."
"Is there something I should know? I mean, did something happen to make you think teaching me to fight was a priority or something?"
Zenigra looked uncomfortable for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to reconsider it. After a while, he motioned me forward.
I took a few cautious steps toward him, wary of another attack.
"First thing is how you standing. Spread your legs, feet about shoulder width apart. You're a lefty, yeah?"
I nodded.
"Then put your left foot forward a bit and the right one back."
I did as he instructed.
"Aces. That's a good starting stance fer ya. You should be able to take a pretty strong punch or kick in that position without getting knocked down. Ya always wanna stay off the ground if ya can help it. Unless you're on top of the other guy, getting 'em to give up the ghost."
I nodded again, trying to absorb his words.
"Now, bend ya knees. This gonna let you absorb more of any force someone directs at ya. If someone's hitting on you try to roll away from the blows."
I continued to listen to Zenigra for another fifteen minutes or so as he went over the basics of fighting with me. Then, he had me throw a few punches at him. He hadn't liked what he saw there and had shown me the proper way to punch. Apparently, I'd been going about it all wrong.
The anger I'd felt at having been attacked without provocation melted away as we continued. We spent two hours behind the hut that night and every night until the middle of February.
I got better as time went on. Zenigra was supremely impressed by my agility. Within a week, I was dodging a lot of his punches. Within two weeks, I was able to dance around him without much fear of getting hit at all. I still wasn't landing many blows, but Zenigra was careful to compliment me on all of the ones I did land. He seemed to be enjoying himself a lot.
At the end of the first week, Zenigra had erected a punching bag behind the hut. I spent a lot of time hitting the bag before and after our sparring sessions.
***
On Valentine’s Day, the one year anniversary of my leaving Miami, I broke the punching bag completely. I had hit it so hard that the synth-leather material had torn and the sand inside it had come flowing out. I thought Zenigra would be angry, it was his money that bought the bag in the first place. Instead, he'd only been impressed.
"I remember when I broke my first one of those," he said wistfully.
"Sorry again, mano."
"Nah, ain't nothing to be sorry about. Just means I did a good job teaching you."
I grinned up at him. We were both standing in the dirt behind his hut, regarding the bag. Without warning, he threw a punch and caught me in the shoulder. I had been practicing the art of always standing in a ready position with my feet spread to my shoulders and my left foot forward whenever I wasn't doing something. That was the only thing that kept my feet under me.
"Maybe not that good, eh?Told ya to always be on the ready."
"It's hard, man. You're my friend, I don't expect you to attack me at any moment."
"Yeh, well, you should. The only person you can trust in this world is you. You'd do well to remember that."
I nodded my assent but mentally shrugged off his words. Zenigra was my friend. My best friend. He was the guy who'd gotten me into the plantation. He was the guy who'd spent his own money to buy me a Progia so I could call my family. He was the guy who'd taught me how to fight in the first place. The thought of him trying to do me real harm just didn't flash with me.
"Aight let's go back inside. News will be on in a bit and don't you gotta be calling that lady of yours?"
I’d been keeping Zenigra updated about the “conversations” I was having with Sasha.
We went back inside, kicked off our boots, and hung our heavy clothes on the rack by the door. Zenigra went off into the living room to watch some TV and I went into his room to fake call Sasha. I decided I wasn’t in the mood to fake a conversation after all and went back ou
t to the living room. The Miami news wasn't on yet, so Zenigra was watching a nature program on one of the wildlife channels.
"That was fast," he commented as I sat down.
"She didn't answer. She'll call back in a bit."
We watched the program in silence for half an hour before I got up and went back into Zenigra's room. I hadn't been paying much attention to the show, while my mind slowly made up some of the details I would tell Zenigra to keep him thinking I was talking to Sasha.
I was having trouble keeping my mind from envisioning all the potential things that she could be doing. She knew it was Valentine’s and I wondered if that meant she was thinking about me or if she was out with another guy. My mind started off down a path I’d kept explicitly blocked for the better part of a year.
I was having trouble controlling my breathing. My mind was racing. The graphic violence that flashed through my mind as I considered what I would do to anyone that hurt Sasha left me with a feral grin on my face.
I walked back into the bedroom and punched Sasha’s number into my phone for the first time, and hit send.
“Hello?” Her voice was quizzical, I assumed from not recognizing the phone number.
“It’s me.”
She started to say something that sounded like my name so I cut her off, knowing that it was well within the power of Skywatch to tap Sasha’s phone.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” I could almost hear her grip her phone tighter. Before I could continue there was a voice in the background I couldn’t quite hear.
“I’m fine, just give me a minute okay?” she said, but not into the receiver. Then what sounded like her moving away from whoever had addressed her.
“Are you alright?” This time to me.
“I’m not coming back. You know that right?”
“I know. My parents told me everything they knew.” She didn’t sound surprised or upset. A part of me began hurting.
“I miss you so much.”
“I--I miss you too. I wish...” Her voice trailed off and it seemed like she was battling with herself, trying to decide if she should say more.
“Yeah, me too.” Tears were starting to brim at the corners of my eyes. There was a long pause, both of us just sitting there, listening to each other breathing. I was about to ask her to tell me what had been going on in her life with the hope it would fill a hole inside me that I had been ignoring since leaving Miami when she spoke first.
“What happened to your parents, it was terrible, there wasn’t even an investigation. You--it--you can’t call me again. I have to protect my parents. Please, I can’t lose them. The people that came after you, it’s just, please don’t call again.”
And she hung up.
Chapter 16
I walked out of the bedroom and headed for the door. As I was putting on my boots, Zenigra, who had apparently been on his way to the kitchen, stopped and gave me a quizzical look.
"Everything alright?"
I shook my head and sighed, "We broke up."
At least I wouldn’t have to lie to Zenigra anymore.
Zenigra took a step forward. I had one foot off the ground and was tugging my boot on when his hand fell on my shoulder. I almost lost my balance but managed to prop myself up against the wall with my shoulder.
"Ah, shit. I'm sorry, Sev. You going for a run then?"
I finished tugging on my boot and nodded, "Yeah."
"You need anything you lemme know, aight?" He let his hand drop from my shoulder and turned around, heading into the kitchen.
"Thanks, I will," I called as I opened the door to the hut and stepped through it.
*
The night was cold. I hadn't worn a jacket on purpose. The stinging bite of the wind seemed to pick me up and carry me along as I ran. It could have been minutes that I sprinted full out around the outskirts of the plantation. It could have been hours. I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could because I knew if I slowed down even a fraction, the pain of what had happened tonight would catch up. I wasn't ready to let that happen yet.
I could hear it, trailing behind me, wheezing, hoping to catch me, but I was too fast. Whatever the nanos had done to me was allowing me to push my body harder than I ever could have imagined. Sweat was finally starting to break out across my forehead and it felt good. The cold beads rolled down my brow and I didn't bother to wipe them away. My body was beginning to tire, I knew I wouldn't be able to outrun the pain much longer.
Then a realization hit me. What the hell was I running from anyway? Pain? Damn. I've been through pain before. Physical and mental. After everything that had happened since I'd left home, I was still standing. Zenigra wouldn't be running away like this. He'd stand there and face it. I thought of my father, so proud of the man I was growing into. What would he think if he knew I wasn't even man enough to face down a girl breaking up with me?
The wheezing sound at my back was getting louder. I planted my feet in the hard earth and slid to a stop. I turned and on instinct put up my guard, ready to let the pain of what had happened to me tonight wash over me in a tidal wave of grief. Let it come. Let it try. I'd still be standing here when it's done its worst.
It was almost pitch black, but out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a form moving toward me in the darkness. Again I heard the wheezing, getting closer. There was someone running toward me. Zenigra was the only one who knew I was out running, but the shape heading toward me was much too small to have been him. Anyway, Zenigra would have called out to me. Asked me to stop or slow down. This person had just been running behind me. From the angle that they were coming toward me, it looked like they had been cutting across the plantation in hopes of heading me off.
It was very dark out, and I doubted that whoever it was that was following me had realized I had stopped. Even then, from the angle at which they were coming, it looked like they were heading for a spot in front of me, where I probably would have been if I'd kept running.
My mind flashed back to one of the training sessions that I'd had with Zenigra.
"Never let your opponent choose the battleground." Well, that wouldn't be a problem. Whoever was tailing me was going to overshoot me by a good hundred meters or so. Could this be the kid who had attacked me my first days in the plantation? Was he hoping to catch me alone again and finish what he had started?
"Get the jump on them if you can." No problem.
I crouched down in the darkness and watched the form move across the plantation, my extra sensitive eyes, keen as a cat’s, giving me the advantage. Slowly, I began to creep forward. As the figure drew closer to the point at which their path intersected with the edge of the plantation, I drew closer as well. Finally, the figure stopped. I could hear them panting for breath.
"Catch them at a disadvantage." Check.
I was only a few meters away from the figure. They were bent over, their back to me, hands on their knees.
The figure lifted its head, "Fast,” he heaved, “little bastard."
It was Piner's voice I realized with a start. Piner, the tormentor. Piner, the baka. Piner, the man who had made my stay on this plantation almost unbearable Suddenly I found myself sprinting towards him, all thought of stealth abandoned.
"Don't hesitate," Zenigra had said.
He heard me coming and straightened up, began to turn. I closed the distance remaining between us in an instant and then I was on him. Using the momentum from my short dash I slammed my shoulder into his chest just as he finished his turn. He staggered back a few paces and I followed, dancing from side to side in the almost darkness.
After his initial shock at my collision with him, he got his hands up, protecting his face. I snuck in under his guard and landed two blows to his stomach in quick succession, doubling him over momentarily. I moved in to launch another attack, this time aimed for his head, but Piner lurched forward putting his shoulder into my midriff and sending me falling back to the ground with him on top of me. I scram
bled to get out from underneath him, but he was strong. He pinned my back to the ground with a knee to my stomach and leaned forward to pin my hands to the ground on either side of my head. I had put on a lot of muscle, but he leveraged his body weight to keep my hands and body still.
"Stay off the ground if you can help it," Zenigra's words echoed in my head. Maybe next time. If there was a next time.
I fought against the weight of Piner's body for another few moments, trying to hold down the panic that was rising up inside me. I had been sure I'd be able to take Piner. I had the advantage. I had attacked him on my terms. I had gotten the jump on him. He had been at a disadvantage, being out of breath. Another of Zenigra's rules of war came back to me then.
"Don't get cocky." I laughed out loud.
"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself," Piner said.
"Go to hell."
"Now, now. Don't get pissy. You attacked me, remember?"
"Yeah," I said, "You were trying to head me off, get the jump on me. I'm just defending myself, baka." I put emphasis on the last word, so even if he didn't know what it meant, he'd catch the gist.
"Get the jump on you?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice, "I saw you out here for a run and I decided it was as good a time as any to get a word in with you. I didn't come out here to fight."
"Liar," I said, derision dripping from my voice. I squared my shoulders and fought not to grit my teeth to tightly.
"Yeah, except you aren't lying in a pool of your own blood right now, are you? We're just talking." His words came out smooth, his tone was matter of fact. It lacked the usual bravado and distaste he affected when normally speaking to me.
"You wanna talk, get the hell off'a me then." I hadn't expected him to actually release me, so when he let go of my hands and removed his knee from my stomach I just lay there looking up at him, waiting for him to start kicking me in the ribs.
"You going to get up so we can talk or you just going to lie there?"
I stood up and brushed myself off, careful to keep one eye on Piner the whole time, just in case he decided to try something after all. He stood there watching me, grinning to himself.
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