After a few moments she took on a more serious look as they locked eyes. “Tak, you are a truly wonderful and amazing man. Now don’t let this go to your head, but I’ve never met someone as honest, caring, loving and wise for their age as you are. The world can be going to hell around you and you’re like a rock in the middle of it. I’ve always admired you, and I believe what you told me about your heritage and your gift… of course I do. How could I not after seeing it for myself? I can see that you carry a big burden. Your secret is safe with me… you know that. You can always trust and count on me Tak. We've been friends for a long time and I am happy that our relationship is finally going... deeper. I don't want to change that.” Tak was relieved, “Thank you Amy. I’ve loved you for a long time.” She threw a big hug around him and he squeezed her back. He knew the future was uncertain, but at least he would share it with this wonderful woman.
After several moments he pulled back from the hug as if realizing something, “While were talking about all this, there’s something I’d like to show you.” He got up from the jackknife couch and folded it back up into its normal position. It sat on top of a two foot tall black raised platform that just looked like the bottom of the couch. He reached under the front of the cushions and unhooked a latch on the platform. He then lifted the couch up, leaning it backwards. A storage space inside the platform was revealed. It was almost six feet long, three feet wide and two feet deep. Up against the front left corner sat an M-249 SAW machine gun on its bipod with a full box of 200 rounds of linked 5.56 ball ammo attached to it. Stacked next to it was another full plastic box of linked ammo. Two more ammo cans sat next them marked “45 AMMO” and “9MM AMMO”. Sitting next to them was another large ammo can full of grenades. Tak’s friend Major Medina back at the Marion National Guard armory had “loaned” the machine gun, ammo and grenades to him; although he had no desire to ever getting them back. A green duffel bag full of over a dozen pistols and ammo they’d taken from the bikers sat on the right side of the concealed space. Amy had helped them load everything into that storage area, but hadn’t noticed Tak put the next item in. He reached in and grabbed a sword from the front of the area. It looked like a katana, but was a bit shorter at only three feet long from end to end. He slowly pulled it out of its well-worn ebony scabbard. The two foot long blade looked like a dark smoky, almost black shard of glass. Its core faintly glowed as the light in the RV reflected from deep inside of it. A golden inlay of Kanji characters circled the black handguard between the blade and the foot long handle. Tak held it reverently as he spoke, “When my ancestor Yukitaka received his gift, a small meteorite fell nearby where they were holding the ceremony in Kamakura. In it they discovered a material like no other from this world. Shogun Yoritomo commissioned the greatest blacksmith in Japan to make this sword with the material that came from that meteorite. My ancestors believed that this blade was given to us by God. This sword is like no other in existence. I know it looks like it would break, but it seems to be truly unbreakable. It’s been almost 900 years and the blade doesn’t even have a scratch on it. It’s seen hundreds of battles. I can’t sharpen it because nothing can cause pieces of the edge to come off, but it doesn’t need sharpened anyway. It’s hard to describe how sharp it is, you’d have to see it to believe it. I can drop it on a thick tree branch from a foot or so and it will fall right through it. It will often break all but the finest swords in training; and on those it chips them badly. It’s a dangerous weapon for me to even practice with. I wondered why my father had me train so extensively all my life with a sword the same size as this one until I first found out about it when I was 16. All of its parts besides the blade have been replaced several times over the years, as they wear down and break. Its scabbard must be custom made because it cuts through normal ones. This one pinches the sides of the blade in a way that prevents its edge from touching the inside of the scabbard. This sword is obviously very special to me. I show it to you simply so you’ll know that part of the story of my gifts.”
Chapter 9: the test
T adashi scolded himself as he spun and began to quickly walk across the courtyard to end his training session early and go to his room. It was not a good day. His father's voice came across a loudspeaker, "You aren't done training yet boy. I've prepared a special challenge for you today. Now prepare yourself… if you continue to act like an undisciplined child you won’t see the sunset." Tadashi stopped in the center of the courtyard. His father loved to push him when he was at his tiredest... when he'd just used his gift and would need rest before using it again. Suddenly a wooden door flew open from a room at the far northwestern corner of the complex. Tadashi knew that room held a secure passageway to the underground levels of the castle. He watched as a thick metal gate slid open from deeper within the room and five men walked out along the northern edge of the courtyard. They were a murderer’s row of Yakuza gang members, clad in only orange prison pants that had been cut into shorts. They ranged in age from 20 to 40 and were in good shape, obviously having had prepared their bodies for prison fights through regular exercise and training. Exotic multi-colored tattoos of dragons, geisha girls, Japanese warriors and kanji characters covered them from head to toe. As soon as Tadashi saw them, he sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. He immediately understood the deadly test that was about to begin. He could focus when his life depended on it, which it did now. He knew he’d need to recharge his mind to use his ability again soon. He’d competed against groups of two and three criminals who were fighting for their lives before, but never five. After they emerged over twice as many castle servants came out behind them, each carrying short barreled rifles as they escorted the prisoners in a row along the northern wall.
An announcement came over the speakers in Japanese as a projector displayed a video image of the castle’s master, Hayato Takamura, on a nearby wall. "Men, you may pick any weapon from the rack behind you. You are to attack and kill the man in the center of the courtyard. Whoever kills him will receive a new identity, your freedom and 10 million Yen cash. The rest of you will be executed. This is a legitimate offer and we will honor it; you have my word as the owner of this castle, Hayato Takamura." In the projected image several servants help up new passports and ID's with new identities for each of the men. A bag stuffed with cash was also shown to verify the truth in the announcement.
The men looked at each other, Tadashi and the weapons rack. They had been sufficiently motivated, and none of them were strangers to killing. They burst into action, rushing the rack in a frenzy. Five weapons were displayed. In the nearest row there was a four-foot long katana sword, a three-foot long wakizashi sword, and an aluminum softball bat. Next to that row were two projectile weapons; a wooden bow with one arrow and a 38 special revolver with 1 bullet.
Tadashi had been meditating since he had sat down. As he sat cross-legged he practiced the same mental exercise that his ancestors had for centuries. He shifted his mental focus from one finger to the next on his right hand, only moving on to the next digit once it began to physically tingle. While knowing that there were several men nearby who were about to try and kill him was a strong mental distraction, he allowed the thought of them to pass on by and out of his consciousness, like dust blowing away in the wind. The only thing that existed was this moment; there was no past or future. He felt a line of energy connecting the center of his forehead down through his right arm to his pointer finger. A living, tangible, internal cord of power grew out of the well of his mind that connected to the finger he was focusing on. His breathing and heartbeat slowed almost to the levels they would have been if he were sleeping. He grew very relaxed. The powerful meditation exercise recharged his mind and allowed him to access his gift much faster than if he weren’t to do it. It was similar to a sprinter stopping to lift his arms above his head and breathe in deeply, filling his lungs with life giving air before sprinting again. It was in these moments of meditation that he saw the truth of his anger and rage issues, which he choose
to ignore at other times.
When he heard some of the men charging him from the edge of the courtyard some 20 paces away he opened his eyes and observed his surroundings. He was confident in his abilities, but not so much in the ability to dodge an arrow or a bullet without using his gift. Two of the criminals were still back by the rack while three of them had grabbed weapons and were charging in his direction as they yelled. One man by the rack had grabbed the bow and was already drawing an arrow back to prepare to fire it. The closest three were less than 10 feet from him and approaching fast; two with the swords and the other with the bat. Just then the archer released the arrow; an easy shot from only 20 meters away. Tadashi focused on the arrow and the pupils of his eyes opened up wide, merging with his irises in large black glass-like rings. The world around him almost stopped as his senses greatly intensified. The three charging men practically froze in place, now barely moving forward with their mouths locked open in long, drawn out war cries. Due to his heightened sense of smell their body odors hit him; it seemed as if they hadn’t showered in weeks. Noises all around him flooded his hearing, and he could instantly pinpoint the source of each sound without having to consciously consider the information. He saw and heard the arrow approaching, cutting through the air. It seemed to move a bit faster than the other things he sensed as it shot towards his heart at what seemed to be about five meters per second. An object moving at that speed is pretty easy to catch; it’s moving at the speed you’d gently toss a ball to a toddler. Tadashi waited motionless as the arrow sped towards him. He began to formulate a plan based off of the moment to moment actions that were unfurling before him. His mind processed millions of tiny bits of information per second, and he took it all in without a conscious thought. As the arrow got closer he noticed another man back by the weapons rack had grabbed the pistol and was loading a round into it. He knew that when that man fired he would have to tap into his gift again, so he wanted to use it in as short of increments as possible so he’d be able to dodge that bullet later. If he hadn’t recently maintained his ability longer than he ever had in his life he’d have been able to dodge them both with no problem, but now with his mind recently exhausted he wasn’t sure that he could. He could only hope that he’d had enough meditation time to allow him to tap into his gift again in the coming fight.
The arrow was traveling through the gap between the man with the katana to his left and the man with the bat directly in front of him. The man to his front left was stabbing forward while the man to his right was swinging a big overhead strike directly down towards the top of his head. The man with the wakizashi was in the middle of the first two, but a few feet behind them and therefore not an immediate threat.
Once the arrow’s tip was a few inches in front of his chest he easily reached across and grabbed the center of its shaft with his right hand. He continued the motion to his left in a tight counter-clockwise spin and rose as his knees uncoiled him like a striking cobra. As he rose he seemed to practically levitate off of the ground, springing right into his attack. He spun all the way around and shot forward to his right at a 45 degree angle towards the slow motion bat-wielding attacker’s left side and he jammed the razor lined tip of the arrow through the center of his Adam’s apple. It continued through and out the back of his neck as the man continued forward, now starting to fall. Just then Tadashi’s mind snapped back against his will, returning the speed of things around him to normal. Maintaining it for only that brief moment had been a struggle. His mind was tired and needed rest, which would come no time soon.
The thug with the katana had thought he was about to achieve an easy kill, until the target before him had simply disappeared. Expecting to impale his weapon into a chest that should have been right in front of him, he fell forward off balance, roughly face planting himself on the stone surface of the courtyard floor.
Tadashi continued on and lept in towards the man with the shorter sword who was starting a stab towards where Tadashi had been a moment ago. His left hand shot out and grabbed the handle of the sword in the man’s right hand, which stopped him from bringing that hand and weapon any closer to Tadashi. He simultaneously shot his right arm up, over and around the thug’s right arm, wrapped it under the man’s elbow as he secured a tight grip on top of his own left wrist with his right hand. Tadashi now had his back turned to the man and began hyperextending that right arm a painful straight arm lock. The man yelped and came up on the tips of his toes but could not wiggle his arm free or even drop the sword since Tadashi held its handle securely. Tadashi could have snapped his arm right then, but instead he continued his momentum to push and turn the man, guiding the extended blade in between the left side ribs of the katana wielding Yakuza next to him; which was on the far left side of what had been the uneven line of three attackers. That man gasped in surprise as the sword drove through his flesh, and then Tadashi finished the armlock, pushing the handle of the sword against the man’s hand while forcing the arm backwards against his own right forearm and radius bone that was placed just below that elbow. His radius bone became the fulcrum over which he hyperextended the arm, bending it back painfully as the ligaments on each side of the elbow ripped and popped away from the joint. The Yakuza’s legs went limp as he screamed in excruciating pain while wetting himself. Tadashi let him fall but held on to the sword and quickly pulled it out of the chest of the man it stuck in.
Tadashi had caught an arrow, killed two men and left a third rolling on the ground in pain in the first three second of the fight. The bowman dropped the bow immediately after he saw that he’d missed and charged as the thug with the pistol began to take aim. Tadashi quickly shuffled to his left so that the former bowman would be in the line of fire between him and the man with the pistol. He was keenly aware that the man with the pistol had loaded it and was starting to circle around to his right, trying to get an unobstructed angle to fire at him. Upon seeing the man with the katana fall and drop his sword, the bowman ran directly to it and picked it up. Tadashi had to rush to his left instead of charging the former bowman since the pistol wielder smartly circled to Tadashi’s right as fast as he could.
Once he was safely covered from pistol fire by the bowman-turned-katana-wielder’s body, Tadashi charged him. The man swung in a strong right handed chop that was angling in towards the left side of Tadashi’s neck. Tadashi, truly a master swordsman, raised his own sword in an apparent block. However once their blades connected Tadashi instantly gave way and circled his around his enemy’s blade, leading the way with the handle-end of his own sword as his feet also circled around in a blur. The apparently defensive move was actually a smoothly executed counter that swung the tip of Tadashi’s sword around to hit the right side of the man’s neck. The moment his sword impacted he slid his sword back, severing the man’s right jugular vein as it went. Crimson sprayed from the new slit in the man’s neck, covering Tadashi’s neck and chest.
During the entire fight Tadashi never stopped considering each of his enemies or focused on just one. Like a chess master he was always thinking several moves ahead and considering every possible attack, defense, counter and re-counter from several opponents at the same time. His most recent victim dropped the katana and grabbed his neck as the fountain of blood shot from it, futilely trying to stop the flow. Tadashi continued to circle to his left as the man with the pistol still raced around to his right, desperately trying to get a clear angle to shoot him. Before the man with the opened neck could fall, Tadashi reversed the direction of his blade after his left to right hit and swung back with a powerful horizontal cut that had all of his strength behind it. The well-made Damascus steel wakizashi sword was razor sharp. Its steel had been folded upon itself thousands of times in its forging by The Order’s blacksmiths. The powerful cut decapitated the man, taking four fingers from his right hand with the head. At the same instant that Tadashi swung through his target, the man with the gun was finally getting a straight line shot at him from less than five paces away. He sensed
that the gunman would fire any instant now, so he called upon his inner gift… but his call was not answered. His mind was simply too exhausted. Still, Tadashi did not hesitate. He dive rolled forward to the right side of the falling body and directly towards the gunman, grabbing the falling head in mid-air by its ponytail. As he came out of his roll he hurled the head straight at the gunman’s chest. The gunman, his finger already on the trigger and pulling backwards, jerked it in his reaction to the head flying at him as he threw up his arms to instinctively block as the head crashed into him. The pistol went off and Tadashi heard the round whiz by; just inches past his right ear.
Tadashi closed his eyes and relished the moment... even though two men still lived, he knew victory was imminent. A breeze had started blowing on this hot and beautiful day and he enjoyed the feel of it on his face. He loved the killing he was doing… he felt truly alive in this moment. The fact that these men were lifelong criminals was merely a convenient excuse to kill. In truth it gave him a rush like nothing else ever did in his otherwise regulated, controlled and disciplined life. He didn’t really care who his victims were. The man who had wielded the pistol looked at him, standing there holding the wakizashi and enjoying the moment. He couldn't run over to the other sword or bat lying on the ground without getting close enough to Tadashi to be cut down, and he knew it.
ROAD TRIP THROUGH THE APOCALYPSE Page 5