by A.L. Bridges
****
[May 4th]
Tia bursts into my room, her face expressionless as she jumps onto my bed and straddles me. She pulls a knife from behind her back and raises it above her head. Wow, that was fast! The gods sure do catch on quick! The knife starts to plunge down toward my chest, but Tia stops it with an inch to spare.
“Why aren’t you defending yourself?” Tia asks, perplexed.
“Well it’s not like you have a choice, right? Since I’m going to die no matter what, I’d rather not hurt you in the process,” I tell her. Tia hangs her head in response, hiding her face with her hair. I feel two drops of water hit my chest and my mind goes blank.
Was Tia actually crying? Tia, the one that was able to emotionlessly punch a small child in the face and then comfort the same child without changing her expression? Tia, the one who practically tokened the phrase schadenfreude with the amount of sadistic pleasure she gets at seeing other people’s misfortune, especially mine?
“You idiot… You heard us last night didn’t you?” Tia asks, her voice barely above a whisper as a few more tears fall onto my chest. “I’m not going to kill you… I can’t.”
Cheza suddenly runs into my room and screams, “TIA NO!” while diving at Tia.
My perception speeds up and Cheza slows to a crawl as Tia goes from straddling me to flipping backwards off the foot of my bed. Everything goes back to real-time and Cheza flies on top of me, kneeing my testicles in the process. My eyes squeeze shut while I yelp at a pitch that only dogs could respond to as Cheza bounces to the other side of my bed.
“Cole, are you alright?” Cheza asks. I roll away from her and onto the floor while grabbing my crotch.
“Cole?” Cheza asks again as I crawl to my trashcan and puke into it.
“Yeah, I’m just peachy Cheza,” I finally say after opening my eyes and sitting up. Tia’s knife flies past my arm, cutting it before sticking into the wall.
“TIA!” Cheza screams before moving between Tia and me.
“Good, Cole,” Tia says while pointing to my arm, which hadn’t bled at all. “I’ve been trying to surprise you to see if you were doing that subconsciously now, but Cheza hasn’t been letting me near you. I suppose throwing a knife at you works just as well.”
“It’s alright, Cheza. I trust Tia so don’t worry. I’m going to take a shower. Meet you in the armory?” I ask Tia, who nods in response.
I shower quickly and then meet Tia. Since we can’t work on Drive control now that Tia doesn’t have a way to snap me out of it when things get dangerous for her, we work on controlling my blood to speed me up instead. Tia and I duel with her using some type of short sword while I use my Sic blade (silicon carbide is abbreviated SiC). Tia keeps the cuts to a minimum this time to avoid my Drive, and slows down to account for my skill level. I find that, when out of my Drive, I can only reinforce all my muscles, which doesn’t improve my strength, agility, or speed by all that much. However, I’m able to narrow it down to upper or lower body and then right or left side as we spar. Tia tells me that I will get more precise with practice.
We discover something interesting when Tia starts thinking about how the Aztecs’ ultimate warrior had to cut open his body to utilize his special skill because his body wouldn’t instantly seal any self-inflicted wounds. During our break, Tia takes my Sic blade and tries to cut my arm. When the blade makes contact with my skin, it melts into a gelatinous substance and slithers down my arm like a snake before reforming as the Sic blade in my hand. Tia tells me to try cutting my hand open with it, but nothing happens. Tia goes into the armory, comes back out, and tosses me a spring-loaded switchblade until we find something else that’ll work. I flip it out and cut my hand with it to make sure that I can. My hand bleeds, but I find that I can still will the bleeding to stop.
That night, I remember my dream from last night so I research silicon carbide using my laptop that sits on the desk below the window at the back of my room. I’m able to find the armor that Mr. Barker had mentioned two years ago. Dragon Skin, created by Pinnacle Armor, utilizes .25” thick, 2” discs, just as I remember in my dream. There’s even an x-ray of the armor showing how the plates overlap. I continue reading and find that the armor had stood up to a .308 sniper rifle bullet, thirty rounds from an MP5 submachine gun from five feet away, various assault rifle fire, and even the point-blank detonation of a frag grenade in testing. The vest was destroyed after the grenade, but it still didn’t let anything through. I take out my switch blade, slit my wrist, and try to create five of the discs. It takes a great deal of concentration at first, but by the fifth one, my blood seems to have figured out what I want and forms to the shape rather easily.
…
[May 5th]
The next day, I tell Tia about the armor and inform her that I want to test the five discs that I already made.
“Sure! We needed to start you on small firearms training soon anyway!” Tia replies.
We proceed down into the armory and around the Plexiglas window on the back wall, entering the gun range. Tia hops over the cement wall/ shooting bench that divides the firing platform from the range, sets up the five discs on a metal stand thirty feet away, and then hops back over.
“Wait here,” Tia says and goes into the armory. She comes back out with the Smith & Wesson M&P 9mm that I used the other day, and another handgun.
“This is a Glock G34 9mm pistol. It holds seventeen rounds and fires with a velocity of around 1200 ft/s,” Tia informs me as she hands me the G34 and gestures for me to shoot the discs. I take the gun in both hands and fire three rounds at one of the discs, missing with all three. I speed up my perceptions and try again, firing the remaining fourteen rounds without a single hit.
“Damn, you suck!” Tia exclaims.
“I’m confused… it was so easy two days ago,” I reply.
“Here, try again,” Tia tells me while handing me the M&P.
I instinctively reach for it with my left hand despite being right handed. Something clicks into place in my mind. I turn and fire five rounds, one at each disc, and all of them hit.
“Now I’m really confused,” I tell her.
“The Adroit Drive embeds the user with extensive knowledge of any weapon that they pick up. The only downfall is that it will only count for that weapon specifically. That’s why you’re an expert shot with the M&P and a novice with the G34 despite them being the same caliber of gun. In other words, we need to work on your marksmanship… but first, let’s check those discs,” Tia explains.
Tia hops over the shooting bench and checks the discs before running into the armory and coming back with an arm load of guns. She goes quickly through them: M16, AK-47, MP5, and M24 sniper rifle.
“Cole, go grab the disc that is farthest to the right,” Tia tells me and I comply, hopping over the shooting bench and jogging to the metal stand.
“Now lick the back of it, stick it to your palm, hold out your hand, and hold still. Don’t forget the last part!” Tia shouts.
I do as she says, knowing that she has a good reason for it. Tia uses the Heckler & Kosch MP5A2 and shoots me in the hand. The disc stops the bullet and I can barely feel it.
“So what was that for?” I ask.
“What?” Tia responds.
“What were you trying to discover?” I reiterate.
“Oh… nothing. I just felt like shooting you in return for the three you hit me with the other day,” Tia answers and I stare back incredulously.
“Come on! Don’t look at me like that! I knew the disc would stop the bullet… probably. I mean, I did pick the gun with the lowest stopping power!” Tia exclaims.
“Well, at least it wasn’t for nothing,” I say while walking towards her. “I couldn’t even feel that bullet hit.”
“Let me see,” Tia says.
I’m holding my hand out about three feet away from her when she snaps the MP5 up and fires.
“What the hell, Tia!?” I yell. That one I did feel, but it was mo
re surprise than pain.
“I see. You know how we found that your Sic blade couldn’t cut you? Well, the discs work in the same fashion. The edges, and presumably the back, of the disc turned into a gel-like substance at the moment of impact to cushion the blow. It should technically work with melee weapons too… Cole, show me that dragon armor you were talking about,” Tia says. I’m glad she has godly vision because I wasn’t able to notice any of that.
I take her up to my room and show her the page on my laptop. After looking at it for a moment, Tia calls out to Sara to come to my room. Sara sits down and looks at the page, the x-ray scan of the Dragon Skin armor, and then at the five discs.
“I think I can stitch this into a jacket. Stitching it into some jeans would be good too, just in case. With the amount of fighting that may be coming up, having some clothing that will stand up to small arms fire could prove invaluable,” Sara tells me.
“Could you stitch it into the leather jacket?” Cheza asks from behind me, poking her head around my bedroom door.
“The jacket that you gave me for my birthday? No, Cheza it will get ruined!” I say while turning to face her.
“Please Cole? It makes me feel better knowing that something I gave to you will protect you… it’ll make me feel like I’m helping,” Cheza asks with tears brimming up in her eyes while she walks in my room. How do I say no to that? Sara looks at me, smiles, and continues as if I’d said yes.
“Alright I’m going to need around three hundred for the jacket, assuming that you want the biceps and forearms covered. The elbows have to be open of course; otherwise, you will be useless in a fight. I’ll need roughly as many for the pants as the jacket, and about twenty of those to be twice the thickness for the crotch area… I assume you want to protect that. Ideally, you would want to halve the thickness of the discs to allow for maximum maneuverability. This will actually be a good test to see how much blood is used when you create the silicon carbide,” Sara informs me and then rereads the page.
“I should theoretically be able to make pure silicon carbide by removing the iron, which would make it stronger, but the process would probably be much slower and I doubt that I can do it with my current level of control. The only reason I can make it now is that my Drive showed me how and when it got passed through my mind, I was able to apply chemistry to what was happening,” I inform her.
“HE REQUIRES MORE TRAINING!” Tia shouts and starts to drag me off but then stops, whips out a combat knife from somewhere behind her back, and hands it out for me to slice my left wrist open.
“Oh, but first pop out twenty of those discs and this time put a sewing needle sized hole on the edge. Sara, take these and sew them to the inside of one of Cole’s white t-shirts. I have a theory that we need to test,” Tia announces as I hand her knife back.
“Aw, is this theory going to involve me getting shot again?” I ask as I start sliding the discs out of my wrist. Cheza looks at me with concern.
“Yes, but I won’t be shooting you just for fun this time. I actually have a theory!” Tia exclaims and Cheza stares at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. Cheza grabs onto me as I slide the last disc out and squeezes, like crazy hard for a girl who only weighs one hundred pounds.
“Try to have that done within the hour please, Sara,” Tia requests.
Tia takes one look at Cheza, who is still crushing me, and shrugs. She grabs my right arm and sweeps out both Cheza’s legs and mine. Tia starts dragging me out of the room by my arm as Cheza straddles me with both her hands on my chest.
“This is part of your training Cole! Reinforce your back muscles!” Tia calls back.
Tia drags us all the way to the basement stairs and I think that she is finally going to stop.
“Now reinforce your back, neck, and ass muscles! And keep your chin to your chest!” Tia calls out.
Cheza still looks a little bewildered, but otherwise seems to be enjoying herself. That’s great! Yeah, just ride your brother like a sled down a flight of stairs!
It dawns on me that Cheza will hit her knees and shins on every step. Tia is already in the process of throwing me down the stairs so there is no time for Cheza to get off. I speed up and do the only thing I can think of:
‘I’ll try to get her repositioned so that her knees are on my stomach! Yeah that will work! How am I going to do that? Oh, I know! I’ll thrust my pelvis up into the air while I push her forward with my thighs!’
It only occurred to me after the fact—after I hear Cheza simultaneously yelp and moan—that what I was essentially doing was dry humping my little sister so forcefully that she flies onto my chest, as she rides me down a flight of stairs. Oh no… Tia is so going to give me hell for this. I know my expectations are about to be met when I hear her laughing her ass off at the top of the stairs.
“Hey Chezarei! Did you break anything!?” Tia shouts down.
I’m pretty sure she isn’t talking about bones. Cheza has collapsed on my chest, panting with a flushed face, which is probably just from the adrenaline of going down the stairs and embarrassment at what Tia said… yeah, I’m sure that’s it.
“Cole! I think you might have ruined her for marriage! You’d better take responsibility!” Tia yells and then doubles over because she’s laughing so hard. Cheza stands up unsteadily.
“Alright Cheza, how about you go upstairs while Tia and I train. When Sara is finished, you can bring down the shirt and supervise the part where Tia shoots me. Sound good?” I ask Cheza. She thinks about it for a moment and then nods, but her face tells me that she doesn’t like it.
I spend the next twenty minutes sparring with Tia while working on refining the reinforcements of my muscles. Cheza comes down with a white t-shirt and hands it to me. We walk into the armory and I go about ten feet out into the gun range. Tia tells me to take my shirt off and put the new one on.
“Alright, let’s start with this,” Tia says snapping the MP5 into position.
I enhance my perceptions as much as I can while she unloads twenty rounds into my chest where the 7.5” x 6” plate is. I’m able to count out every bullet that is fired, since it sounds like the gun is firing three rounds every second with my senses heightened.
“How was it, Cole?” Tia asks.
“Fine, but I think the shirt is toast. By the way, what’s the fire rate on an MP5?” I ask while looking down at my shirt that is strewn with holes.
“Ah! My theory was correct! And about fourteen rounds per second,” Tia informs me. Meaning that the rate at which I perceive things is nearly five times faster than normal. Now, if only I could get my body’s speed to do the same.
“What theory?” I inquire.
“Look closely at your shirt, Cole. The plates should have fallen when the stitching got shot open,” Tia says. I look and find that she is right. The discs were sewn into the shirt, but they don’t connect to each other so individual ones should have dropped as the threads that were holding them were destroyed.
“Cole, try bending, twisting, and then roll forward,” Tia requests. I do all of those and the discs just stay where they are. I can barely even tell that they’re there.
“That’s what I thought. The discs became like a second skin when they came into contact with you. Now one last thing…” Tia trails off.
Tia grabs the M24 sniper rifle off of the table, aims carefully, and fires, all at a speed that was too fast for Cheza to comprehend. The .308 caliber bullet hits me in the chest and knocks me on my ass. It seems like the discs connected together, forming a plate to compensate for the extra force, but a 7.5”x6” plate wasn’t quite enough against the rifle bullet.
“TIA!” Cheza screams.
“I’m alright, Cheza. It seems like the discs disperse force between them when faced with a higher caliber bullet,” I say, the last part directed at Tia as I rise to my feet.
“Oh really… stay right there,” Tia says and runs to the armory. I see her grab a step ladder and reach for a gun that I can only identify as an
anti-material rifle (thanks video games!).
“NOOOOOOOPE!” I shout to Tia and she starts laughing.
“Let’s pick up the training tomorrow. It’s getting late and Cheza, you have school tomorrow,” Tia says. Cheza glares at her with a ‘But Mooooom!’ look.
“There are only two weeks left!” Tia responds. All three of us walk up the basement steps and find Sara waiting for us in the living room.
“So, how was it?” Sara asks Tia. Sara’s jaw drops when she finally sees me and then her head cocks to one side. “How are those staying on?”
“That’s what we found out. Once the discs touch his skin, they stick to it like glue,” Tia replies and Sara thinks about it for a moment.
“I think I can work with this. Cole, make more discs while I make dinner,” Sara says.
I head for my room while Sara heads toward the kitchen. I sit down at my desk, push my laptop out of the way, slice open my left wrist, and get to work. I’ve made about fifty discs when something in my head just clicks into place and information is whispered in my mind:
(You have 5.8 Liters of blood in your body at capacity. You currently have 5.3 Liters. You can reach 2.8 Liters before you start to experience symptoms of anemia. At 1.8 Liters, your body shuts down. 1.3 Liters: Death. You replenish the red blood cells in 0.5 Liters of blood in five minutes, but that doubles for every 0.5 Liters lost. Meaning that if you stop once you experience symptoms of anemia, it will take five hours and fifteen minutes to regenerate. If your body shuts down, it will take just over twenty-one hours to regenerate the blood if your unconscious body is provided with fluids. Your blood doesn’t regenerate at all if you’re consciously using it in any way. Sealing and healing your wounds does not count, but reinforcing your muscles and creating objects does. Each disc uses up .01 Liters and the Sic Blade used up .25 Liters)
I stand up, walk to my doorway, and call out, “HEY SARA?”
(5.4 Liters) my inner voice tells me.
“Dinner will be done in about ten minutes!” Sara shouts from the kitchen.
“DO WE HAVE THE STUFF FOR YOU TO SET UP A SALINE DRIP?” I yell.
“Yeah, we do… wait, why?” Sara asks.
Limits were made to be tested. I don’t have much time so I quickly slice open the length of my left forearm while enhancing my senses and speeding up my upper body. I start quickly creating things out of my blood. I make a hundred discs (4.4 Liters). I make a second short Sic blade (4.15 Liters). I pull out another Sic blade, but this one is three feet long and one inch wide (3.65 Liters). I’ve always wanted a seven foot katana like Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII, so I try to make this next. It is a bit of a challenge because the most I can get is three feet before I run out of arm space. I point the blade forward and my blood just trails along with it, streaming to the end of the blade to build more length until it reaches six feet and then it slows down, adding detail to the cross guard and hilt for the final foot. I guess my blood works through mental imagery.
(2.4 Liters) my inner voice says as my face hits the floor.
What the hell? I should still have over half a liter until this part!
(Rapid blood draws will result in shock and premature incapacitation)
So now it tells me. That’s like when a GPS tells you to turn left as you are passing through a light. Now that I’m thinking about it, the voice sounds like a GPS. Well, if this bitch ever says ‘Recalculating,’ she’s going out the window. Actually, the voice sounds more like the voice navigation in a certain popular smartphone… I’ll call her Airi.
“COLE! WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THIS!?” Cheza screams. She must have come to investigate my shouting. Damn, I got all this done quickly!
“SWEET! IT’S SEPHIROTH’S KATANA!” Sara shouts, totally geeking out. “CAN YOU DO CLOUD’S BUSTER SWORD TOO!?”
I hear Tia sigh at Sara’s response and say, “I’ll go grab the crash kit,” as I lose consciousness.
…