Heyer raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not sure if a display of pointless maneuvers will intimidate a Ferox,” he said. “Strike me. Do not hesitate should you succeed. Follow through with any combinations you initiate. The enemy will not stop to applaud you at each success. Nor will I.”
Jonathan stood, unsure of himself after Heyer’s instruction. The way the alien spoke indicated to him that he was familiar with the weapon. He would not likely be engaging a clumsy opponent.
He began to circle the alien. Heyer matched his movements. Finally he let loose with a series of strikes. Most swiped air, some the alien was forced to block with his forearm. Occasionally it appeared he purposely let a blow land on his back to gain better footing. The maneuvering ceased when Heyer’s hand found Jonathan’s throat.
Jonathan stopped and made eye contact with the alien, afraid of the strength he knew the hand on his neck was capable of, acutely aware of how the moment reflected their first encounter.
If Heyer made the connection, he didn’t let on.
“Do not stop because your defense failed, Jonathan,” said Heyer. “React like you would to a Ferox with a claw on your throat.”
Jonathan felt his jaw clenching as aggression rose up inside, pulled forth by Heyer’s challenge. He sensed the rage there, more and more often, observing him as he trained, growing stronger as it watched him become a weapon. He still felt a distrust of it, a fear of letting it take control, and yet, as he looked into the alien’s eyes, its presence dulled his fear, overshadowed it with a resolve, a focus, a predatory gaze.
Fight-This-Guy-Hard.
He brought the staff up into Heyer’s wrist, simultaneously kicking the man in the chest, propelling them apart. He landed in a ready stance and refused to let the alien have a moment to think, moving back in with a new combination.
He held back nothing now that the rules seemed clear. They sparred like this for over an hour. Heyer, obviously the better fighter, never let Jonathan land a real strike. That was fine by Jonathan, although frustrating. He wanted to know that when he succeeded, he’d done so because he had outwitted his opponent, not because the man had let him get a shot in to boost his ego. The alien wasn’t a paid instructor giving him praise; he understood the necessity of the training.
Heyer never broke a sweat. Meanwhile, Jonathan’s clothes clung to him. He never hit back, only tapped Jonathan when he’d left himself open. They both knew they couldn’t risk an accidental injury. Jonathan getting hurt before being activated would be too devastating to their efforts. Jonathan wished it would be possible to train like this every night. He already felt deadlier than ever, even if he’d never succeeded in landing a single strike. The sparring revealed countless flaws in his technique, things his imagination couldn’t have predicted. It was the best experience he could have to prepare for the Ferox.
When Heyer noticed Jonathan was visibly exhausted, he put his hand up as to indicate that they were done. Jonathan accepted the offer and resisted the urge to drop down on a knee and divulge the true level of his fatigue.
“Jonathan, that you have achieved this level of skill in such a short time shows a true understanding of what you face.”
Jonathan shook his head, gasping for air.
“Heyer, I didn’t land a single strike,” he said.
“I am no Ferox,” he said. “I’ve trained in your species’ various martial arts longer than you have been alive. I never had any real expectation that you would hit me, but a Ferox does not fight like a man. Their sense of strategy is different. They rely on their formidable strength and speed, their senses and instincts, their armor. They do not train like you. I watched you adapt as we sparred. You learned quickly, corrected your flaws almost immediately. I believe you will outwit them.”
Jonathan nodded. At least this compliment came from someone who actually knew what he faced.
“I need to leave,” Heyer said checking his watch again. “I will come by again soon.”
“Wait,” Jonathan said, his sudden concern obvious. “Is there a way I can reach you? A cell phone number, an address, something?” Jonathan asked.
Heyer put his coat on and slipped back into his shoes.
“I will consider this Jonathan. Right now I do not have a good means for you to contact me. I know how it sounds, but you have to understand that typical human communication methods are easily traced,” Heyer said.
Jonathan found the statement as odd as when the alien had compared himself to a child. When did a being, who could teleport around the globe, start worrying about being traced by someone? It hadn’t even occurred to Jonathan that Heyer might have such a concern. He didn’t have long to consider it before the alien spoke again.
“Before I go, I am curious. You do not intend to take one of these small sticks into combat with the Ferox?” He pointed to the staff in Jonathan’s hand.
Jonathan shook his head and walked back to the cabinet, pulling out the demolition bar. “It’s not ideal, as I can’t train with it in my current state. It’s too heavy, but once the device activates, it should be manageable.”
Heyer inspected the bar and looked unsure.
“It’s the highest quality steel I could find,” Jonathan said defensively. “I had to special order it.”
Heyer looked at the bar again and then back to Jonathan.
“Is that so?” he said, putting his fedora on and handing the bar back to Jonathan. “Perhaps then there is a way I can assist you without going beyond earthly means.”
Then he was gone, just as before in the park, leaving Jonathan alone in his garage, holding a heavy metal bar out to no one.
“Bye,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SATURDAY | AUGUST 13, 2005 | 9:15 PM
PAIGE walked across the hall to Jonathan’s bedroom. She did this less and less now. Conversations between them tended to leave her feeling like she’d done something wrong. It hadn’t been easy on her. It wasn’t that they had ever been overly conversational, even before Jonathan had been attacked. Still, they had spent so much time together, most of it in quiet company as they studied. She missed his presence. She missed their routine. She didn’t like that they were becoming strangers.
She knew she was over-thinking things, but it was confusing to miss a friend who wasn’t really gone, who lived right down the hall.
I will not guilt him, she promised herself.
She hadn’t planned to request Jonathan join them at all. Leah and Collin had convinced her that she should ask. They’d said that Jonathan would make an exception for her birthday. If he’d forgotten, Paige thought it was understandable, given how little they spoke anymore. She was going to ask him to come, but she wasn’t going to be hurt when he said no.
When she reached his door, it wasn’t shut like it normally was. It was open wide enough that she could see him standing in front of the mirror. He was clean shaven, he’d combed his hair, and he was buttoning a shirt. Her eyes drifted over to the edge of his bed, where a purple envelope sat.
He remembered, she thought as she turned away from the door.
“You got her a card?” Collin asked Jonathan incredulously.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Jonathan said, pretending to be defensive.
“You made me ride the bus all the way home, after doing you a favor no less, so you could stop at a drug store and pick up a card?” Collin wasn’t really mad, but he wasn’t going to let it slide by unnoticed either.
Jonathan nodded.
“Jonathan. That card had better be amazing. I swear, if it doesn’t bring tears to her eyes with its thoughtfulness…” Collin trailed off as he hadn’t thought of a good punishment to follow that sentence with.
The men sat around the table Collin had reserved at Paige’s favorite pub. They each had a beer in front of them. All but Jonathan had an empty shot glass as well. In the middle of the table were a few, as yet, unopened birthday presents. There were two empty seats with half empty moji
tos on the table. Paige and Leah danced together a ways off. The bar didn’t have a dance floor, yet no one was complaining.
“How is it that the two hottest girls in this bar are here with us?” Hayden said to Collin.
“Let’s not over-think it,” Collin replied without taking his eyes off the girls.
Hayden glanced at the girls. “Why do girls dance at bars when there isn’t a dance floor?”
“Let’s not over-think it,” Collin reiterated.
Grant was quiet. He seemed to be watching Paige, yet more than once Jonathan caught the man’s eyes leering over to Leah. He tried not to notice, but it seemed intentional, like Grant was trying to antagonize him without letting him be certain if it was on purpose. He feared he was being paranoid, but he felt a twinge of jealousy each time he saw it. It was disturbing to think Grant timed those looks, that he intended for Jonathan to catch them.
From what Jonathan had gathered, no one understood why Paige still bothered with Grant. She no longer spoke excitedly about him as she had originally. When she had come down the stairs that evening and seen everyone in the living room waiting to take her out for her birthday, she’d been ecstatic, yet it seemed like she was more excited about the going out than the ‘going out’ with Grant.
Collin had said, before Grant arrived, that he thought she was going to blow the guy off. Apparently, Grant had done, or said, something to change her mind. That, or Collin was just seeing what he wanted to see. It was curious though, what had Grant done to get on her bad side?
“You’re in a good mood this evening. Finally seen the wisdom in giving in to peer pressure?” Hayden asked.
“Perhaps you forgot what happened last time I went out with you guys,” Jonathan replied.
He tried not to imply it the same way he had with Paige. Still, it caused a moment of uneasiness until they saw he was earnestly joking and relaxed, happy that he’d made a remark so flippant about the incident.
“Fair enough,” Hayden replied, smiling. “Still, though, what gives?”
Jonathan thought about it for a moment.
“Let’s just say I had some wins today.”
“I wouldn’t call that motorcycle a win,” Collin said, “but if it makes you happy then—”
“You look like you’ve put on some weight,” Grant interjected.
He hadn’t been participating in the conversation, and now he seemed impatient with it.
The three looked up at him, and Jonathan nodded.
“Happy to be of assistance,” Grant said.
He can’t be serious.
Jonathan smiled and nodded anyway. When Grant looked back to ogle Paige and Leah again, Collin gave Jonathan a questioning look.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Jonathan said, shaking his head.
When Paige and Leah returned, Hayden and Collin teasingly booed that they hadn’t continued dancing. Paige blushed; Leah seemed more incline to give a bow.
“So when are we going to open these?” Collin asked Paige, nodding at the gifts on the table.
She smiled and reached for one of the boxes with brightly colored wrapping paper. Grant’s pocket started vibrating as she opened it. He pulled out his phone and checked who was calling.
“Sorry,” he said to everyone, excusing himself. “I need to take this. Don’t wait for me.”
He leaned down and kissed Paige on the forehead as he left. Jonathan thought Paige looked perturbed that he’d chosen the phone over her. His eyes followed the man as he left to take the call outside. He looked back at the table and realized he didn’t see anything from Grant in the pile.
He didn’t get her a gift.
As the thought occurred to him, he found himself looking out the bar’s street window at Grant, infuriated with the meathead, but when Jonathan’s eyes found him, he was surprised by what he saw. Whatever call Grant was getting, he was upset about what he was hearing, he appeared to be on the brink of yelling at the caller. He thought he saw spit flying from the man’s lips as he growled into the phone.
“He already gave her a present,” Leah whispered to Jonathan.
She’d leaned in close to him, so only he could hear. He turned to her, realizing the disdain he felt for Grant must have been showing on his face; either that or Leah had read his mind.
“Oh,” Jonathan said, letting his face relax.
She leaned in a little closer, and whispered again. He felt the special brand of nervous excitement she gave him as she drew nearer; he could feel her breath on his skin.
“Her ears,” she said, flicking her eyes toward Paige.
Jonathan looked over at Paige and understood. She was wearing what looked like expensive earrings. He hadn’t thought Grant would be spending that kind of money; especially since Paige mentioned Grant wasn’t currently working.
“Between you and me,” Leah whispered conspiratorially, “those bought him a guilt week.”
“Not sure what you mean,” Jonathan said.
“I mean, she was going to break it off. But then he gave her those,” Leah said.
“She tell you that?” he asked.
“Nope,” Leah said, “but she wasn’t bringing him tonight originally.”
So, Collin had been right after all, Jonathan thought.
“Don’t worry,” Leah said, “she won’t keep them. She just lost her nerve when he sprung them on her.”
Jonathan nodded.
“Any idea how he got on her bad side,” Jonathan asked.
Leah shrugged slightly.
“Doesn’t trust him, it’s things like this, where he has to leave the room to answer his phone,” she said. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Hey,” Collin said toward the two of them. “You aren’t whispering loud enough for the rest of us to hear.”
They both returned a sarcastic smile to his calling them out.
“This one is from Jonathan,” Paige said, picking up the purple envelope.
Jonathan smiled as he waited for her to open the card. When she finished reading, she looked like she might smile herself into tears.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” she said, putting the card in to her purse before anyone asked if they could see it.
Grant returned from his phone call. He didn’t appear angry, at least not as angry as he had when Jonathan had spied him through the window. He looked like he’d gotten news so bad he couldn’t process it. The whole table still picked up on his change in mood. When he sat, he immediately took a long drink from his beer, finishing it.
Paige reached over, putting a hand on his knee. Grant snapped out of his thoughts at her touch.
“Sorry, I just,” Grant paused. “I just got turned down for a job I’d interviewed for. No big deal, just thought it was a good fit.”
“Sorry man,” Hayden said, genuinely sympathetic. The rest of the table nodded in agreement.
Grant, wanting attention off of him, tried to smile.
“Hey, it’s your birthday.” He reached for a present on the table and handed it to her. “Let’s forget about it.”
Paige took the present from Grant’s hands. It was the last one on the table.
“This one is from Collin,” Paige said, starting to peel off the wrapping. Collin shrugged as though it were nothing special. Jonathan could tell he was really brimming with eagerness as Paige removed the paper.
Once she’d opened, he couldn’t see what she was holding. For a moment, she looked down into the wrapping paper and appeared uncertain. Then a spark came to her eyes, and the fingers of her free hand came to her mouth.
“Collin! Is this what I think it is?” she said.
“Pretty sure it is,” he said.
She finally pulled the item from the box so everyone could see. It was a hardback book, but he could see by the way she held it that she prized it.
“It’s a first edition,” Paige said.
Jonathan recognized the title. It was a copy of Ishmael. He hadn’t read it himself, but he’d seen Pa
ige reading it a number of times and knew it had a reputation amongst environmental studies majors.
“Open the cover,” Collin said.
She reached down with her spare hand and carefully lifted the lid of the book and gasped again.
“No way! It’s signed!” she said. “How did you even know?”
“I’m not blind,” he said. “I’ve seen three copies of that book in the house since you moved in, not to mention you reading it a dozen times.”
Jonathan snuck a look at Grant’s face as he took in Paige’s reaction to the gift. It was only for a moment; Grant looked at no one. His eyes appeared to be looking through the table, his mouth pinched, his nostrils flared. When he looked up and caught Jonathan watching him, he quickly let the expression go slack and replaced it with an emotionless façade.
Apparently, Paige hadn’t been this excited about the earrings.
As the night moved on, conversations ebbed and flowed. Eventually, Jonathan found himself alone at the table. He was on guard duty, watching the group’s various coats, purses, and presents.
Outside of watching movies with Collin and Hayden, it was the longest time he’d spent with his friends since he’d killed Sickens the Fever. Collin and Hayden had fallen into their familiar rhythms. From what he had overheard, they were much further along producing their rebooted Bible comic book than he’d realized. They spoke excitedly about story arches, the presentation of certain panels, the layout of the first title page, Internet publishing.
The more he heard them talk, the more he thought back to how Paige had looked at him in the garage a few nights earlier, how he’d forgotten about her birthday until Collin reminded him, how her relationship with Grant had reached its near end without him knowing, how she and Leah were suddenly friends.
Then there was Leah herself, right next door, building massive metal sculptures with an arc welder. All within a stone’s throw of his bedroom and he’d been too closed off to notice. They might as well have all been living in a timeline that couldn’t exist for him, much like his fight with the Ferox didn’t exist for them.
Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero Page 26