Rise: Luthecker, #2

by Keith Domingue

  “There they are,” Chris said as he eyed the terminal.

  Yaw and Chris watched as the tired and worn out looking Nikki and Alex worked past the crowds of the arrival area, spotted the SUV, and made their way toward the vehicle, wheeling their suitcases behind them. In moments, the two were in the car, and Yaw was pulling the Explorer from the curb.

  “How are you, my man?” Yaw asked, looking at Alex through the rear-view mirror.

  “I’m doing okay. How is everyone?” Alex replied.

  “Good. We’re all good.” Yaw merged into traffic.

  “Are you sure? Is there anything…out of the ordinary happening?”

  Yaw caught Nikki’s eye in the rear-view mirror, looking for an explanation before he replied to Alex’s inquiry.

  “I’m the one who asked the question,” Alex said.

  Yaw angled the rear-view mirror so he could see Alex. Yaw saw fatigue in his friend’s eyes and something he’d never seen in Alex before: fear. It caused him immediate concern.

  “Everything is fine, nothing strange going on. Are you okay?

  “I’m fine.”

  Yaw saw Alex’s hand tremble, ever so slightly. He watched as Alex fought to control it. Then Nikki took Alex’s hand in hers.

  “I think you need to get some rest, my brother,” Yaw said. “The big man will want to talk to you in the morning. But don’t worry; we got everything under control.”

  Nikki poured the last of the water from her water bottle over her head to cool off before she picked up her pace. It was just past noon and the sun was blazing, the temperature over ninety degrees Fahrenheit. She was near the end of her run along the bike path on the beach in Santa Monica, and she wanted to finish strong.

  Exhausted and hungry when Yaw and Chris had dropped them off from the airport, Nikki and Alex picked up a distinctively American delicacy that they had missed while in Tibet—burgers and fries from the local restaurant called Islands. Then she and Alex had returned to Nikki’s apartment. They ate with hardly a word between them, and it wasn’t long after the meal that they were overtaken by fatigue, barely capable of keeping their eyes open. Happy to be in her own bed, Nikki crashed and slept for nearly ten hours without waking, the length of undisturbed sleep a rare occurrence for her. She had woken up just past 11am the next day feeling stiff, her body craving exercise, craving an outlet that was all her own to curb her anxiety, which meant a good, hard run along the beach. When she left the apartment, the same one located two blocks from the beach that she and her brother had shared before his move to Hawaii, Alex had still been asleep. She hoped he would be awake when she returned and that they could talk. She wanted to discuss the email she received while they were in Tibet. She also wanted to discuss what had happened between Alex and Kunchin, the Buddhist monk. What had happened to leave Alex so disturbed? But she knew with this, she had to be patient. She hoped he would be in a good mood.

  Because Nikki was attractive, many men had pursued her in her life, and she had learned early on how to recognize and navigate the wants and desires of nearly every male personality type quickly, without having to become victimized by them. And despite Alex’s uniqueness, there were factors to his personality that, in Nikki’s experience, had their own recognizable patterns.

  Nikki saw Alex as a loner, gifted and strong on his own but fragile and inexperienced when it came to trusting others. Ironically enough, she realized that it was his ability to know others so completely—in mere minutes—that he chose to not let others know him. Alex knew whether or not he could trust someone before they had a chance to earn it. For him, the process was reversed from the normal order; the closer he let someone get to him, the less accurately he could predict that person’s patterns of life, ultimately resulting in less control for Alex—in himself and the situation. Because of this, his capacity to solve personal problems were singular in nature. He would handle his problems on his own, and instinctively shut down anyone who tried to convince him otherwise. It boiled down to control, and the distinctly male trait to have it over everything. She didn’t view this negatively in Alex, in part because of the unique circumstances that led him to be this way, but also because she understood that this way was the only way he knew, the only coping mechanism he had for the world. However, she was also aware that in order for the two of them to survive, as either a couple or as close friends, he would have to open up to her more, and she would have to help him do that. And considering his complexity as a person, it would be no easy task. Alex, the man who could change someone’s life forever in an instant, would himself have to change.

  Nikki checked her Nike Imara Keeva women’s sports watch as she slowed to a stop, her car visible in the distance, parked along Ocean Avenue. She smiled when she looked at the numbers and saw that she had beaten her personal record for her six-mile beach run by just over three seconds.

  Nikki entered her and Alex’s apartment on 3rd Street and tossed her keys on the kitchen table before grabbing a bottle of water off of the counter.

  “Alex…?”

  She saw a flash of movement through the sliding glass door that led to the backyard of their apartment. She moved from the kitchen to the living room in order to get a full view.

  She smiled as she watched Alex work out with his Kali sticks, spinning them with expert precision in a traditional kata, a choreographed set of moves as sophisticated and elegant as any dance, but far more deadly in application. Alex was shirtless, dressed only in sweat pants, and despite their time off in Tibet, the well-defined muscularity of his physique—crafted from countless hours of training with Winn, Yaw, and Chris—was still quite visible. He caught her looking, and she was surprised to find herself blushing. He smiled at her, stopping his workout as she opened the sliding glass door and stepped into the backyard to join him.

  “How was your run?”

  “Set a new personal record,” Nikki answered as she offered him her water bottle.

  “Good for you. I slept like a rock,” he replied, after he finished off the bottle.

  “Me too. It’s good to be home.”

  There was a moment of silence before Alex spoke. He could see that something was on Nikki’s mind. “So what are you thinking?”

  “That we need to talk.”

  Alex threw the empty water bottle inside a near-by trashcan.

  “What happened in Tibet? Between you and Kunchin?” Nikki asked.

  Alex thought about the question before answering. “He was wrong.”

  “About?”

  “About me. Do you think I run? From people? From myself?”

  Nikki stepped close to Alex. She viewed his question as a need for reassurance, and she was going to give it, in hopes that he would open up to her.

  “No. I don’t think you run from anything. Is that what Kunchin said to you? That you run from things?”

  “That I run from myself.”

  “What I think is that what you see is more than you’d like to at times, and that can make you distant. Cut off from everyone. And I just wish you’d open up to me. I wish you’d trust me.”

  Alex wrapped his arms around her. “I do. But you also have to trust me.”

  Nikki knew there was more, but that Alex, whether he was aware of it or not, had decided to use the concept of trust as a wall, as a way to isolate himself once again. She felt that the only way past it was to discuss the email she received while in Tibet.

  “I do. And there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I know.”

  Nikki looked at Alex. “I didn’t want to mention this then because it looked like you were dealing with enough already. I was waiting for the right time.”

  “You don’t have to explain; just tell me.”

  “I got a very strange email from someone.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know who they are. But they knew you; and they claimed that they could help you. They sent a photo. I think it’s of your birth parents.”

 
“Show it to me.”

  “It’s on my laptop,” she said as she led Alex back into the apartment, took her laptop from the kitchen counter, and opened it up on the kitchen table. She logged on, pulled up the email, and clicked on the photo. She turned the laptop toward Alex.

  “Is it them? Are these your birth parents?”

  Alex examined the photo. A single photograph was not habitual movements, nor was it behavior, nor sounds, nor what one would normally consider a series of patterns; but a single photograph could still tell a story. This was not the first photo Alex had seen of his mother and father. Like any child curious of their origins, he sought out those who brought him into this world, and although he recognized the physical manifestations of his lineage—his father’s jaw line that was his own, his mother’s eyes that were also his—

  these two people were strangers to him. And even though he did not know them, did not hold them close to his heart, he still felt connected to them. And yet, he could not read much about who they were. They were still part of him, or, more accurately, he was part of them, and because of that proximity, he was unable to “read” anything about them. At least that was his theory. And since they were both deceased, a theory was all that could ever have.

  But perhaps the individual who sent this could tell me more, Alex thought.

  “Yes. It’s them,” he finally answered. Alex instinctively brushed his fingers over the photo. “We need to meet with whoever sent this.”

  “Alex, this could be a set up. It could be the Coalition, or…worse.”

  Alex turned from the photo and looked at Nikki.

  “I had PHOEBE trace the IP address. It’s here in Los Angeles,” Nikki stated.

  “Great. That makes it easy.”

  “Not really. The message originated from the downtown public library. Alex, whoever sent this, used a very sophisticated encryption program. It bounced around the world over half a million times before PHOEBE could find it.”

  “But they knew you would find it.”

  “That’s what scares me. Not to mention that they found my email address to begin with.”

  “But if they can answer questions about me, about who I am, and why I am—”

  “Alex, you can’t be this impulsive. It’s dangerous. We don’t know who these people are.”

  “Nikki…”

  “We should tell the others.”

  “No. I’ll go alone.”

  Nikki threw up her hands in frustration. “You can’t keep doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Thinking you have to do this all on your own. You’re not by yourself anymore.”

  She reached out to him, but he turned away and stared out the window to the backyard. She waited several seconds before saying anything more. “Did you ever meet them? Your birth parents?” Nikki finally asked, hoping the redirect would reel him back into a conversation.

  “No,” he answered, still looking out the window. After a few seconds, he turned to face Nikki. “Leo and Janet Mayer. A schoolteacher and a nurse. She was only twenty, he was barely twenty-two. They were killed in a car accident. I was only three years old.”

  “Where did the name “Luthecker” come from?

  “Me. When I emancipated myself at sixteen, I had my name changed.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted a new beginning.”

  Nikki stepped closer to Alex. “What about Aunts or Uncles? Or Grandparents?”

  “Grandparents were deceased before I was born. My mother was an only child. My father had an older brother, but he wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you ever ask?”

  “I’d have to dig him up first.”

  “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

  “Don’t be, I’m not. Nikki, if you hang onto the past, it becomes your future. I learned that before I was five years old. What exactly do you think it is that I see in people?”

  “What really happened in Tibet?” Nikki held her breath. She had him talking, and the time was now; she hoped that the change up hadn’t been too abrupt. She reached out and took hold of his hand. She felt it tremor, ever so slightly. “Trust works both ways.”

  “I don’t want…you to have to deal with what I have to deal with.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

  Nikki didn’t reply. She waited.

  “Every time I step into the momentum, every time I share with people what I see in them, it destroys them. Not to mention, the momentum collapses on me. It’s not meant to be, Nikki. There’s a reason why people are not allowed to know what’s around the next corner in their life. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they know?”

  “You “stepped into the momentum” for me. And I wasn’t destroyed. I was saved.”

  “That’s completely different.”

  “No, it’s not.” She squeezed his hand hard and put her other hand on Alex’s cheek. “I know you’re not running from anything or anyone. But thinking you can help the world by choosing to not be part of it is not the answer, Alex. You’re here for a reason.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you didn’t just save my life, you changed it. And you changed it for the better. That’s how I know. You’re a gift, not a curse. Look, I love you, and you love me. For some reason we are connected, and we both know it. But love without trust isn’t really love. I told you, you’re not alone in this and I mean it. Now talk to me.”

  Alex took a step back and searched Nikki’s eyes, not for a sense of destiny this time but for anything that could hurt him. He found nothing. He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “Kunchin said I was going to lose someone I loved. And this time I wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

  Nikki stepped away from Alex. She understood the implication.

  “He’s wrong, Nikki. I promise you, he’s dead wrong.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

  An irritated Nikki went to the front door and looked through the peephole. It was Master Winn. She put on a smile before she opened the door.“Hi, Winn, it’s good to see you.” Nikki gave the old man a hug. She noted that he was dressed in workout gear and had his Kali sticks strapped across his back.

  Winn smiled and nodded at Nikki before he looked over at Alex.

  “It’s time to train,” was all Winn said, before he abruptly about-faced and walked away.

  “There are many boats but only one river,” Winn said, as he looked over his students. “In belief, in action, and in life.”

  Yaw, Chris, Nikki, Alex, and newer student Joey Nguyen listened to the martial arts master’s words but couldn’t help being distracted by the surroundings of their new training hall. They all stood on the crumbling concrete station platform of Metro 417, the long abandoned subway terminal building that still existed below Hill Street. Each one of them searched the station with their flashlights; the light beams illuminating old chairs, desks, fading signage, and debris.

  Built in 1925, the “Hollywood Subway” as it was known in its time, moved over sixty thousand passengers through its terminals every day at its peak in 1944. Closed in 1960, the enormous subterranean chamber was long forgotten by the public, and a luxury apartment complex now stood over the terminal. The decaying multi-pillared station, with disintegrating walls and a ceiling height of over twenty feet, had been condemned years ago, and therefore was off limits to the public. The only access to the center terminal now was through a small hole in the wall of the current subway station located at Pershing Square, less than a block away. It only took a short walk through an abandoned rail tunnel to reach the station, and for Winn, the decaying turnstiles, faded signage, and the ghost-like feel of countless souls literally passing through this place gave the proper backdrop for what he felt his students needed next in their lessons.

  “Eyes front,” Winn commanded, breaking his student’s fasci
nation with their surroundings.

  All eyes moved back to Winn as he stood in the center of a twenty-five-foot circle of candles, the concrete floor inside the circle having been carefully brushed clean of dust and debris. The candles, twenty-five of them evenly disbursed around the circle, were large and thick, each four inches in diameter and standing a foot tall. Winn quietly walked the perimeter of the circle, lighting each candle as he went.

  “Turn your flashlights off,” he commanded.

  One by one, the students clicked off their flashlights, until the only illumination left in the abandoned terminal was the flickering light of the candles.

  “Any weapon is simply an extension of your technique; an extension of your movements; an extension of you. Therefore, anything can be a weapon.”

  Alex, Nikki, Yaw, Chris, and Joey watched as Winn pulled a long rope from a small equipment bag located just outside the circle of candles. He coiled the rope around his forearm and two egg shaped balls of metal, roughly half a kilogram each, were attached to each end.

  “This is called a meteor hammer and rope.”

  A Chinese weapon dating back to 400 B.C., the meteor hammer and rope consisted of a four-meter length of rope, with the two metal end weights called hammers. The name meteor was added to signify the great speed and force that could be generated when the simple combination of rope and rock were spun by the hands of a skilled expert. A difficult weapon to learn, the meteor hammer and rope was an armament of stealth, usually used at a distance or to keep distance from the opponent. The weapon made use of energy from the user’s neck, torso, shoulders, and elbows to generate its lethal speed and momentum. In combat, the hammers, when swung with expert precision, were known, not only to crack the skulls of their unfortunate victims, but, if fitted with a blade instead of a stone, were capable of slicing a victim’s head clean from their shoulders.

  “Understand; you, are the calm at the center of the storm. And it is that calm that allows you to control the fury of two opposing and lethal objects.” Winn looked at Alex a moment before engaging the rest of the group. “Now watch. Carefully. And remember: everything you see is an extension of what you already know.”