Training Days

by Joan De La Haye

  Not that I’d ever set foot inside any sort of gym. Gyms are not my thing. No offence to the gym bunnies out there, I don’t particularly enjoy getting sweaty in public.

  Sunil sauntered towards me. He moved like a panther, graceful and deadly.

  And then the fucker gut punched me.

  Who the fuck does that?

  Seriously! Who?

  “What the fuck was that for?” I asked through gritted teeth while I tried to breathe again.

  “You must be prepared to be attacked at any moment. You must learn to have your guard up at all times,” he said, smiling down at me.

  The bastard actually smiled.

  “So... You’re going to attack me at weird times like in the old Pink Panther movies?” I asked as I tried to stand up properly.

  His reply was a blank stare.

  “Have you ever seen those movies?” I asked.

  He sighed and side swiped my legs out from under me. My head hit marble with a resounding crack that reverberated around my skull, causing pinpricks of light to shatter my vision.

  “They were ridiculous movies. Do not insult my training techniques with that crap,” he said as he walked away.

  While I lay on the cold floor I remembered that I was no longer that scared woman from little more than a week ago. I was now a badass killing machine. I wasn’t Sunil’s punching bag. He was mine.

  As I lay on the floor I started to wonder what exactly my body could do. What was I capable of? How hard could I push myself? I’d never been particularly athletic, but the possibilities were intriguing.

  So I tried something.

  You know that backflip move you see those super fit and agile martial arts actors do in the movies? You know the one I’m talking about, right? The one where they go from lying on the floor looking near comatose and they kind of flip back up without having to do the old granny move of using their hands or groaning. They miraculously end up back on their feet with this smug ‘I’m back’ look on their faces.

  Yeah. That move.

  I fucking nailed it.

  As I snuck up behind Sunil with my newly acquired abilities I wished there was some music playing. Some Flogging Molly or Dropkick Murphys. Something befitting the epic beat down I was about to dish out.

  I jumped up.

  My right hand scrunched up in a tight fist, ready to punch the back of his neck.

  His foot came out of nowhere and connected with my stomach.

  I went flying across the room.

  “Elena was right,” Sunil said with a smirk as he strolled towards me. “You really are like a baby Elephant.”

  “Fuck you,” I groaned from my crumpled up position on the floor.

  “Simply because the Doctor made improvements does not mean you’re ready to fight. But if you get off your pert arse and do as I say, you’ll be ready a lot sooner than if you keep playing at whatever that was supposed to be.” He stuck his hand out to help me up.

  I was sorely tempted to break his fingers, partly just to see if I could and partly because I wanted to make him squeal. But instead I smacked his hand away and stood up on my own.

  Didn’t need his fucking help.

  “We’ll start by testing your endurance,” Sunil said, turning his back on me, begging for another attack. I swallowed the desire to kick his pert arse.

  As I watched him walk over to the state of the art treadmill, on the other side of the room, I couldn’t help noticing how pert his arse was. I have to admit, I was tempted to pinch it.

  “As most of the events are similar to the one that you have recently experienced, our focus for the moment will be on testing your stamina and optimising your running style,” Sunil said looking down at the treadmill’s console and hitting buttons on it with his pointer finger.

  “Did Elena also go through this sort of thing?” I asked as I joined him.

  “What do you mean by this sort of thing?” Sunil asked as he stopped touching the screen and looked at me.

  “You know, all of this,” I said as I gestured around the room.

  “I would imagine that she went through an extensive training programme,” he said, once again engrossed with whatever he was doing with the console. Probably devising some form of fresh hell for me.

  “Yes, but did she also undergo the same sort of treatment and enhancements?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s possible. Each of the Patrons has their own doctors who develop and work on their Runners. Anything is possible.” He nodded to himself. “The Patrons and doctors get quite competitive, and so do the Runners.”

  He stepped away from the treadmill and gestured for me to climb on.

  The bastard didn’t even give me time to put both feet on before starting the fucking thing. I only just managed to grab hold of the handrails and get both feet on and moving. I narrowly avoided doing a faceplant on the running belt. I was suddenly very grateful for my improved reflexes.

  “You need to stop thinking that your body is the way it used to be,” Sunil said as he crossed his arms and examined me while I ran. “Let go of all those previous issues with your body. Your body is a sharp instrument and will be able to do almost anything you need it to, but you need to stop getting in your own way.”

  “I’m not getting in my own way,” I said as my legs sprinted.

  I couldn’t help but stare at them in shock. I’d never seen legs move that quickly, not even Elena’s on the island as she ran away from me, leaving me to die. The thought of her betrayal seemed to propel my legs even faster. What really shocked me, though, was that I wasn’t even breathing hard. My lungs felt as though I was taking a stroll around the block, not running faster than a car. For the first time in my life I laughed while I ran.

  It was fucking amazing.

  4

  I’m not sure how long I was on that treadmill. I think it was probably most of the day, because by the time Sunil let me get off the instrument of torture, my legs were killing me. I could feel thousands of tiny fire ants biting into every fatty cell of my thighs. So I guess I was still human and couldn’t run forever without feeling it.

  If I’d been back home, where the sun shines, I would have been able to tell the time of day by the passage of the sun across the sky, but in this cold, damp country, where the sun doesn’t seem to shine at all, I had no clue whether it was day or night. Bright, electric, lights shone all day. The lack of natural light was starting to get to me as was not having my phone, or access to Facebook. Not that I had a lot of friends on Facebook who would notice I was gone, but still. I liked lurking and seeing what everybody else was up to.

  I’m a Facebook stalker. Sue me.

  I also missed the sound of music. The castle was silent. Since my arrival I hadn’t heard anything other than my own breathing. The few conversations I’d had with Von Zimmer and the Doctor and Sunil’s terse replies to my questions and barking orders at me, didn’t really count. I wanted to hear some Gin Wigmore, Elle King, or some Dropkick Murphys, or some ACDC. I wanted to hear anything but this dead silence.

  But instead of music I got Sunil stomping over from his spot in the corner of the room where he’d been doing his own training, which looked like a hectic form of yoga. Fuck alone knows how that man managed to get himself into any of those positions. At least I’d had something to watch while I made like a hamster. It alleviated some of the boredom.

  He tapped the console in front of me and the running belt stopped under my still running feet. I went down hard. My knees felt most of the impact and the treadmill shuddered underneath me. Sunil grunted and walked across the room once more while I got back onto my feet and off the equipment. My legs felt strange being back on solid ground.

  Before I had a chance to recover, Sunil threw a very large looking stick at me which I surprisingly managed to catch. Not very gracefully, but I still caught it. A few days ago it would probably have hit me square in the face and probably broken my nose. I’ve never been particularly co-ordinated, so being able to
catch anything was quite a feat.

  I was still marvelling at my newfound hand-eye co-ordination when that fucking bastard smacked me in the gut with an oversized bamboo cane.

  How fucking rude is that?

  Another blow hit the top of my head. It wasn’t even a light tap. It was a full on pounding smack that made stars dance around my eyes. My jaw connected with my chest and my knees slammed into the marble floor sending sharp spikes of pain along my femur.

  In spite of the ringing in my ears, I heard the door open and the slap-slap of shoes on marble. And in spite of my blurred vision I also spotted highly polished and expensive looking shoes standing next to Sunil’s bare feet. I hadn’t actually noticed before then that Sunil wasn’t wearing any shoes, which—considering how cold the floor was—was a bit weird. I mean, didn’t he feel the cold? What was wrong with him?

  My eyes travelled up from the highly polished shoes to the pinstriped suit pants, to the grim face of Von Zimmer who in turn was looking down at me. He did not look happy.

  Once my vision cleared, I stood on wobbly legs. I thought about throwing up all over those shoes, but then realised I hadn’t eaten. I also realised I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten and my stomach decided to grumble rather audibly.

  “Since you’re here,” I said. “I have some grievances.”

  “Oh,” Von Simmer said with a raised eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “Firstly, I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day.” I held up my fingers and counted down my complaints. “Secondly, what is it with you and tracksuits? Can’t I have other clothes? What about some of those funky tights? You know the ones that look like a Harley Quinn outfit or something cute like that? Or jeans? Jeans would be nice. You know for when I’m not running on a treadmill or having my head bashed in.”

  Von Zimmer nodded.

  “And thirdly, what’s with the silence? How about some music? Or is that asking too much?”

  “Your needs will be seen to as soon as possible,” Von Zimmer said with a dismissive hand gesture, and then turned to Sunil.

  “We must talk.” Von Zimmer tilted his head towards the other end of the torture chamber. Sunil nodded and followed him away from me. “There’s been a dispute,” Von Zimmer said in a hushed tone.

  I pretended not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  “That was quick,” Sunil said.

  “Yes, but it was not unexpected. We knew that once Victoria lost The Race there would be a period of turmoil.”

  “How bad is it?” Sunil asked.

  “It could be worse, but this is only the beginning, and since The Race was only recently completed the dispute will be settled by armed combat in a location of the injured party’s choice.”

  “She’s not ready.” Sunil said glancing at me.

  “The dispute is thankfully not with us.” Von Zimmer said. “We have only been invited to attend. We leave first thing in the morning.”

  5

  Sunil, the sadistic bastard, clobbered me with the fighting stick for a long time after Von Zimmer left to do whatever billionaires and evil masterminds do. There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t have a bruise or a welt or wasn’t bleeding when he dismissed me. Don’t even get me started on how hungry I was.

  In pain, and with a grumbling stomach, I wandered the cavernous halls of the castle, trying to find my way to my room. Every passage look exactly like the last. It was only once I came to a narrow, spiral, stone staircase that I was ready to admit I was well and truly lost. It was time to go looking for another human being who could tell me where I was supposed to go. Only problem was: I hadn’t seen anyone else since I left Sunil and I sure as shit wasn’t going to go looking for him so he could take me back to my room.

  I took the stairs down, probably not the smartest move, but when have I ever made a smart call?

  With each step down the temperature dropped a few degrees. That should also have made me turn back, but no, I kept on descending deeper into a freezer. I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps hell had indeed frozen over.

  Thankfully the stairs, like the rest of the castle, were well lit. The problem was that there was no chance to exit the staircase. They kept going down and down and down. If my thighs hadn’t already been killing me before, they definitely were now. There was nowhere to go but down. I thought about turning back and making that trek all the way back up, but I’d already gone so far and I couldn’t be arsed to turn around. What can I say? I’m a lazy bitch. So I decided to keep going and hoped the stairs would eventually come to an end and there would be a door leading somewhere. Maybe, if I was lucky, there would be a lift to take me back, or another person who could direct me to my room where there’d hopefully some food and warmth. Warmth would be nice.

  My face was starting to turn numb and my teeth were chattering. I hugged myself tighter and tried to rub some circulation into my arms as I carried on down, down, down...

  Since I’d arrived in Von Zimmer’s castle all passage of time seemed blur. I had no idea how long I’d been there; I didn’t know what day of the week it was, or whether it was day or night. I also had no clue how long I’d been in that downward spiral, but when I finally hit the bottom step and saw a wooden door, it felt as though I’d been trapped in the frozen tundra for a century. Snot ran down my trembling upper lip. I could no longer feel my face or my fingertips.

  With numb fingers, I reached for the brass door handle. Giving a silent prayer that it wasn’t locked. I pulled down and pushed it open. The squeak from unoiled hinges reverberated all the way up the spiral staircase and down another bright corridor.

  I wondered how much Von Zimmer’s electricity account was every month.

  Peering around the door, I looked to see if there was another living soul. No such luck. Maybe they’d all gone to sleep and I was the only one stupid enough to be traipsing around where I had no business being. There was nothing I could do except go forward.

  “Hello,” I shouted as I walked on. “Is anybody there?”

  I felt a bit like Adele singing Hello.

  Nothing. Not a sound except for the annoying echo of my own words, my breathing, and the patter of my feet on the cold floor. I kept putting one frozen foot in front of the other.

  What else could I do?

  I considered turning back, but fuck that shit. Climbing up those stairs would be worse than going on.

  Fuck no!

  The passages down in the basement were different to the ones in the upper levels. They seemed labyrinthine, and instead of marble floors it was all concrete. It wasn’t just a straight shot to the end. I couldn’t even see the end of it. After what seemed like hours of walking down the corridor I heard someone else’s heavy tread echo towards me. I stopped, waited, and listened to them approach.

  A guy wearing a green Parker jacket with a German flag on the arm marched around the bend towards me. He looked shocked and I was ecstatic. I was saved. The barrel of his machine gun pointing at me dampened my spirits a bit though.

  “Halt! Hände hoch,” he shouted. “Was machst du hier?”

  “I don’t suppose you speak English?” I said putting my shivering hands up, because it seemed like the thing to do under the circumstances.

  “Du darfst nicht hier sein,” he said as he walked towards me, the barrel pointed at my chest and his finger on the trigger.

  “Dude,” I said. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. English, please.”

  “Komm mit mir,” he said and gestured with his head and rifle in a way that I think meant that I had to go with him.

  He marched me down the passage in the direction he’d come from. He kept ramming the muzzle of his rifle into my back to make me move faster. I had to resist the urge to bitch slap him, mostly because I wasn’t sure if I could move quicker than a bullet and I wasn’t in the mood to get shot. I also wasn’t sure if Doctor Mannheim would be able to fix me again.

  We walked along the corridor, round a couple twists and turns, before we
reached a metal door. It scrapped concrete as he opened it. The noise echoed through the tunnel, making my eardrums wince.

  The room he pushed me into was, thankfully, warm. But the change in temperature made my skin hurt and my snot dribble even more. It didn’t matter how much I sniffed, I still got a taste of salty snot, and sounded like a cocaine addict with a bad habit. At least the uncontrollable shivering stopped.

  Doctor Mannheim stood in the middle of the room, which wasn’t unlike the one he’d had me in, except this one didn’t have the weird water tank or any of the equipment he’d used to fix my arm or turn me into an advanced freak. This room looked more like a morgue than a lab.

  The reason it looked more like a mortuary was the body, well...what looked like a body, on a metal slab in front of Doctor Mannheim. As I was pushed closer into the room by the German goon with the gun I got a far closer look at the body than I wanted to. The bloody mess looked familiar.

  “Ah! Hallo Fräulein,” Mannheim said looking up from the mangled corpse. “What can I do for you?” He thrust his hands into the chest cavity. The squishing sounds made my stomach turn, as did the smell of rotting flesh. “What is the matter?” he asked while his hands rummaged inside the cavity and peered up at me with concern.

  I simply shook my head. I couldn’t get a word out.

  They may have tinkered with my body, but clearly hadn’t done anything to fix my gag reflex. I wasn’t able to look at that bloody mess without turning a lovely shade of green. Killing to survive was something I could handle, but what Mannheim was doing to that body was a whole other story.