"Combat has nothing to do with feeling the metal in your grasp. Defense is about protecting yourself, your family, your friends, and loved ones. I could give a flip about feelings. Now, sit tight and pay attention to the key points. Stop dreaming about senseless things that don't matter when someone's trying to kill you."
Taking a deep breath, the determined instructor continued. "But even excellent training won't be worth a nugget of fool's gold if you don't PRACTICE! Without regularly using what you're taught, you'll quickly forget different techniques and lose your speed and accuracy. Repeatedly putting your body and mind through the motions keeps your actions and thoughts tuned."
With his elbows on the table and chin in his palms, Thoruk's eyes glazed. How long is he going to talk? My butt's sore sitting here doing nothing. After his persistent teacher talked for what seemed to be another half hour or more, he snapped out of his daze when Mercivil edged him with her elbow.
Protuk looked at all three and smiled. "I know that each of you is an experienced hunter. What you learn here the next two years will improve your skills. My cousin, Wolfuk, is a renowned tracker. He'll be here for a handful of field lessons to teach you how to track your enemy. Many of the techniques also apply to hunting game."
Thoruk straightened up in his seat. That's great! Maybe I'll get that 12-pointer Father saw in the woods.
After quizzing the trio, Protuk directed them toward several wooden weapons propped against an oak. "Let's go over to that tree."
When they arrived, the instructor grabbed a wooden practice spear and sword. "Okay, I promised to show you a move, if you listened. You've been very patient today." He peered at Thoruk and extended his hand. "Here, thrust this spear at me."
Thoruk cocked his head and gritted his teeth. I'd love to kill the monster inside him, but I can't hurt Father's guardian. He timidly poked the weapon at his trainer.
Protuk seized the shaft just behind the point and whacked Thoruk across his upper arm with the sword. Enlarged, blue veins bulged from the master's neck. "I said THRUST that spear at me! Try to STAB me!"
Mercivil charged out of nowhere and pushed Protuk, then punched him in the side. "You better never do that again!"
He didn't budge from his spot but leaned back. "Aren't you the feisty one? I'm rather surprised you have so much courage for a skinny runt."
Stormulka snickered.
Protuk glared at him. "I admire such spunk!" He turned toward Mercivil. "But don't ever hit or challenge a commander again, understood? An officer trains for years, has lots of experience, and knows what he's doing. Your responsibility is to OBEY orders, not to question or give them. A combat unit can't be questioning commands, or chaos and confusion will follow. Got that?"
She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."
Protuk glanced at his students. "You witnessed courage today, by Mercy. But remember, bravery is only as good as your willingness to use it. Mercy showed what she's made of and that she is prepared to defend her friends. That's special!"
He looked Mercivil in the eye. "Now stand straight and hold your head up."
Smiling, she raised her chin. "YES, SIR!"
He pivoted to Thoruk. "I said THRUST that spear!"
Hot blood coursed through Thoruk's heart as he stepped back then rushed at him, lunging the spear toward his gut. Protuk whirled with his arms outstretched. When he completed the circle, the edge of the sword's blade rested against Thoruk's throat.
Thoruk stood with his eyes and mouth wide open. "How did you do that? You're so big, yet you spun so fast!"
Protuk took the weapon from Thoruk's hand. "Go on, get in line with the others. What did you learn from this — anybody?"
Stormulka spoke first. "Sir."
"What did you learn, Stormulka?"
"Never to make you mad, sir."
Protuk sighed with a tinge of annoyance. "Anybody else?"
"Emotions, sir." Thoruk lowered his eyes. "I let my anger overcome me. I didn't maintain my balance — and I allowed my emotions to defeat me."
"How about your enemy? Did you know your opponent or did you underestimate him?"
Thoruk shrugged his shoulders. "I never imagined you could spin so fast. I need to think and plan better, so I can anticipate your moves and be ready to react to surprises next time."
"Exactly." Protuk winked. "I think you're beginning to get the picture."
Two Years Later: June ~ 2068 ~ 3:00 pm
Near the completion of training, Thoruk awaited his final assessment. I'm sure Protuk will use some special maneuver today; one he hasn't shown us before. I'm ready. He hasn't seen the moves I've been practicing.
Protuk grabbed a sword and extended the handle toward Thoruk. "Here, take this. I'll use a spear."
Squaring off, Thoruk spread his arms and legs to maintain balance in a crouched position as his opponent did the same. Thoruk patiently awaited his master's initial move, keenly alert to Protuk's every twitch. As anticipated, Protuk lunged forward and Thoruk whacked the spear's head to the ground with his sword. The skillful trainer immediately recovered to block Thoruk's swipe of the sword.
After a lengthy round of countering each other's thrusts and swings, Protuk exercised a double counter move. Having never seen the maneuver before, Thoruk's eyes widened before deflecting the spear's point without a scratch to his vest. Confident in his abilities, Thoruk taunted the brawny man. "Is that the best you've got?"
Protuk clenched his teeth, stepped back then charged, thrusting his spear at Thoruk's legs.
Thoruk sprung high in the air, somersaulting just off Protuk's shoulder, landing on his feet behind him with his sword at his teacher's throat. Keeping the blade in place, he leaned around Protuk and whispered in his ear. "What did you learn from this?"
The defeated warrior turned to face him and bowed. "Very nice move — well done." He smiled and grabbed Thoruk's arm. "You're ready to do battle and become a leader, my friend. It would be an honor to fight by your side and defend your back in any battle."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Blood, Blood Everywhere
Wednesday ~ August 14 ~ 8:00 am
Stretching outside the village, Thoruk spotted Fluf and his lovely friend approaching. She's always so perky, even this early in the morning. "Hey."
Mercivil smiled while twisting her disheveled hair in a tight ponytail. "Hi, I'm glad you remembered to show up today. You've been — let's just say — preoccupied."
He frowned. "I know, I've been lousy company lately. I hope you understand."
"I do. There's a lot on your mind. Maybe this jog will help?"
Thoruk grinned. "It will. I really need the exercise. With all that's been going on, I almost forgot that we need to begin chopping wood within a few weeks before the snowstorms arrive. Let's do it together. It will also strengthen our upper bodies before the battle. We can start with your stack first."
Her eyes lit up. "Sounds great! I'll sharpen my axes."
Rubbing his chin, Thoruk raised a brow. "I'll bring my own. Yours are too light for me."
Itching to get going, Fluf lumbered back and forth.
Thoruk finished his routine quickly and glanced at his lightly-muscled partner. "Ready?"
"Yep, let's get going." She ran in place. "Should I keep the pace slow today?"
"Funny, I'm not Storm. Besides, I'm always easing up so you two won't get worn out."
His buddy took off with her trusty guardian following her heels. "We'll see who tuckers out first."
After running hard for a half hour through the winding trails in Wolverine Forest, Thoruk slowed to a jog. "The upcoming battle's still nagging me. I've been thinking about what Intellulka and Protuk taught us."
"Me too; things I haven't thought of in years. You getting tired, Old Man? You've been eating my dust the last quarter mile."
"I was trying not to show you up, but..." He sprinted to the front. "...hurry, catch up!"
Running hard, neither talked much, but Thoruk's mind raced. I've got to a
void the mistakes countries made during WAP. He recalled Intellulka's leadership lecture the day it snowed a foot in Ukkiville when he was a kid. ...initial strike against the Old Western world occurred Easter, 2019 — they hated Christians and Western ways. Old China and Iran used something called nanotechnology — created smaller, portable nukes, and electromagnetic pulse generators. What were they called? His eyes darted. EMPs!
He slowed a bit. Whew — having a hard time breathing — but glad we're running.
His recollections resumed. China and Russia stole account numbers and passwords — hacked utility and defense systems — robbed millions of savings accounts, and shut down electric grids and defense control centers. Terrorists detonated EMPs and nukes — destroyed Western cities and most of the technological advances of the 1900s and early 2000s.
During the 50-minute run, his mind continuously swirled with learnings of that era. Mercivil's voice interrupted. "You're falling behind. Come on, slowpoke! You better not be thinking of the battle!"
Gasping for air, he slowed to a walk. "Hey, let's take a break."
His friend glared at him. "I can tell. You ARE thinking of the battle!"
"Not exactly. The old professor's lessons about the World Annihilation Period keep popping in my head!"
He creased his forehead. "That's one of the reasons I'm stressed. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes the Old United States made prior to the attack. They were too complacent and didn't discern who their real enemies and allies were.
"I can't fathom how the U.S. left their borders unprotected and didn't recognize their enemies were so dangerous and determined to put an end to their way of life."
He leaned closer. "I'm not going to let that happen to us."
She grabbed his hand. "I understand. That's why we're running — to provide relief — to think more clearly. Let's finish jogging before your old muscles stiffen."
He chuckled. "Don't you ever let up?" After heading along the edge of a lush, green pasture for 10 minutes, he stopped and pointed at a lump in the field. "Hold on, what's that?"
"I don't know. I can't tell from here. Maybe a cow; it's brown and white." She held her arm out in the direction of her pet. "Fluf, stay."
Thoruk's eyes widened. "Let's look." He hopped a fence and dashed toward what appeared to be a lifeless body. Sharp grass blades whipped across his legs with each stride.
When Mercivil caught up, she quickly covered her mouth with her hands. "Not again!"
The disgusting stench of torn guts shot though his nostrils, and he jerked his head aside, covering his nose. Blazes, I hate the smell of death! Fresh, glistening blood and flesh was splattered everywhere around the hide, grass, soil, and rocks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Courage in the Face of Fear
Seconds Later ~ 9:15 am
Walking around the repulsive mound of flesh, Thoruk inspected the mutilated mess then peered at Mercivil. "You were right. It WAS a cow.
"A bear did this — a large one. Look at the wide, deep slashes on the neck. See that paw print next to the kill? The predator is huge — strong enough to drag the heavy carcass from where the Jersey must have been slaughtered. Notice the bloody trail?" He tilted his head toward a red, soaked path of matted oats.
Mercivil scanned the area and pointed. "There's a house where the pasture ends. We should tell the owner."
Clearing the fence and returning to the road, they hurried in the direction of the old pine cabin. Partway there, Thoruk lifted his arm. "Shhh, did you see that?" Thirty yards to his right, the dense, chest-high grass moved.
His alert partner whispered. "It must be very big. Look at the swath of crushed weeds."
Thoruk rose to his tiptoes. "I can't see what it is. It may be the same bear, stalking the cattle?" He motioned in the direction of the brown and white Jerseys with bulging milk bags. "They must sense trouble; notice how they're circling each other."
He turned toward Mercivil. "Take Fluf and wait by that gate. I'll warn the owner and grab some weapons."
"Okay, but hurry!"
Hunching over, Thoruk dashed to the rancher's house. After 10 minutes, he and an older man returned, carrying bows, quivers, and spears. The thin, deeply-tanned farmer, who often attended the same church service as Thoruk, opened the gate.
Mercivil stared at Fluf. "Heel, stay tight."
Checking the wind, Thoruk kept low as he and the others took a wide berth among the taller weeds along the fence line. He approached within view but remained hidden from the attacker, now closer to the cows. Shivers, that thing stinks! He tracked the stealthy animal's movement in the grain field. I've never seen a huge bear stalk its intended meal this way — crouched beneath the short oat tops — almost crawling.
When the mysterious creature neared the opening's edge and gingerly stuck its snout from the green mass, Thoruk's heart pounded harder. He squinted and whispered. "That's no bear, it's a panther!"
As the wildcat slowly crept into the opening, he observed the freakish monster's black panther head and the stout, brown body of a grizzly. The fur under the chin and around its paws was still smeared with blood. Thoruk gasped. Another muclone! Makes sense. A normal animal wouldn't leave its first kill to attack something else.
Wanting to maintain silence to get better positioned before arousing the beast's temper, Thoruk turned and motioned to the others. Too late.
The livestock owner sprang to his feet. "What on earth is that? Get out of here!" Fear gave into anger as he hollered. "Stay away from my cows!" He dropped the weapons except for a spear he began waving.
The gruesome carnivore swiveled its head toward the commotion, leapt to its hind legs, and unleashed a deafening roar. Mooing and holding their tails high, the cattle scattered across the pasture. No longer interested in the fleeing Jerseys, the bearcat directed its fierce glare at the farmer.
In a fury, Fluf shot skyward to her hind paws. Her thunderous roar silenced the stunned monster.
Mercivil screamed. "Fluf, lay down!" Her protector paid no heed and remained erect, growling with her long, ivory teeth bared.
The muclone's nape spiked as it steadily advanced, crouching and holding its head low. The fiend snarled with lip curled, drooling while it crept within 50 feet of Fluf.
Adrenaline gushed through Thoruk as he tossed a bow and quiver to Mercivil. He snatched the small battle-ax from his belt and yelled. "Spread out and surround it! Don't worry about Fluf!"
He and the others circled the unearthly brute while it plodded forward, shifting its wary eyes back and forth. Fluf dropped to all fours, swinging her snout side to side as her neck fur bristled.
Thoruk hollered to the farmer who ran to the monster's other flank. "Aim for the heart and let loose on my count of three!" Nearer to Fluf and closer to the beast's front, Mercivil knelt down and drew her bow string to its limit. "I'm going for the chest!"
Thoruk drew his weapon back. "One — two — THREE!" He flung the battle-ax for the jugular.
A bloodcurdling scream blasted from the fiend's jaws. It charged and vaulted into the air. Fluf bolted toward the vicious creature, jumping high. Just as they were about to collide, the muclone went limp, collapsing when it hit the polar bear. The crumpled wretch twitched as blood oozed from its wounds.
Mercivil remained kneeling. Her eyes flooded. "Thank you, Lord!"
Racing to his shaken friend's side, Thoruk hugged her and held her trembling hands. "Are you okay?"
Fluf sniffed the red pool under the carcass and strolled to Mercivil, placing her nose on her master's shoulder.
Torn between frustration and love, the caregiver turned and punched Fluf, then snuggled her tight. "Why didn't you listen? You could have been hurt."
Rolling, the playful protector exposed her belly. Mercivil laughed, cried, and plopped her cheek on her furry guardian's tummy.
The farmer approached. "What is that thing? I'm so thankful you were here. Without you, I had no chance."
Thoruk stood and sh
ook the man's hand. "I'm glad we were all here to stop this one. It's another of Zolokt's muclones. Did you attend my announcement about these creatures in the village the other day?"
"No, I've been tied up at my cabin the past two weeks, mending fences and fixing my barn's roof. I heard the church bells, but I was too busy."
"Well, next time you should go. We don't ring those bells unless it's Sunday or a very serious event. It might save your life. I need to take this freak to Intellulka. Can I borrow a wagon and get help loading it?"
"You betcha, I'll be back in a snap."
Thoruk pivoted toward Mercivil. "Well, I have to admit your plan worked pretty well. I didn't think about battle strategies for a second in the last 20 minutes!" They both chuckled.
Once the farmer returned and the bearcat was placed in the buckboard, Thoruk guided the horses to visit the old professor. Looking at Mercivil, he pointed to the bloody beast. "Let's hope we don't spot anymore of these on the way to the village."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Bonfire
Thursday ~ August 15 ~ 5:30 pm
The highly-anticipated Ukkiville bonfire was about to get underway on a pleasant, summer's eve. Mercivil waved a group of older girls and boys toward her. "Let's put up the tents, tables, and chairs in this area before the smaller children arrive."
She looked at the Lake of Dreams, surrounded by tiny, lavender flowers along the edge. The light breeze swept the colorful shore's fragrance throughout the park. Mmm that smells so good. I sure hope the youngsters have fun tonight. Who knows what our families will face in the next few weeks?
In the distance, Stormulka set up additional tables and chairs with a half dozen kids. Mercivil nodded when he glanced her way. I'm lucky Storm's been so helpful; he hasn't even mentioned any dreams yet.
Hearing a commotion, she turned. Arguing with each other, two teenagers fussed over tablecloths. Mercivil grabbed some torches and held them toward the tussling duo. "Come and help me with these." While giving instructions, she motioned with her hands. "Let's place several by the shoreline and both sides over here to create more light."
The New World: A Step Backward Page 11