Age of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 1) (10 page)

The early morning light woke Natalee up, as it had done the day before. It was sort of like camping, you woke up early because there was nothing to do with no light. She rolled over and remembered why she was waking up early, that lack of technology. Her cell phone not working was a pain. She couldn’t text her friends, call her friends, or email her friends. She was supposed to meet up with that boy, Glen, today. That wasn’t going to happen now, she didn’t even know how to get a hold of him. This sucked.

After another breakfast of peanut butter and bread, she just lay on Maxine’s bed, bored out of her skull. Her cousin had wandered on to the porch to hang out with her “pack”. It was so weird, she seemed to be able to talk to them or something. Something had happened in the woods with that lady Kim, she was almost naked when Pastor Rich had brought her in. I guess it was okay to add her, because now Natalee’s grandmother had someone to dote over and could quit asking her questions about her friends, boys in her life and her menstrual cycle. What was it about grandmothers that they were always so creepy without even knowing it?

It was still pouring outside; the steady deluge of rain was yet another thing she wasn’t prepared for. Natalee hadn’t seen rain like this in Colorado ever. It was sort of like the rain that fell in Florida when they were on vacation, sheets of water just drowning everything, but that lasted less than ten minutes and this had been almost forty-eight hours. She rifled through the kid books that Max had, animal this and animal that. She heard footsteps coming down the hall, the lumbering could only be her uncle. She knew no one else who stomped like that.

“Nat?” came Uncle Ted’s voice, then he poked his head in the room, “Hey, Nat. Come work out with me, there is no one to work out with.”

She rolled her eyes, “Uncle Ted, no. I don’t want to work out.”

Her uncle looked at her with a knowing look, “Too busy?”

She thought for a second, “It’s my period.” Natalee laid her hand across her stomach. Her uncle smiled and threw a gi (karate uniform) at her.

“Nice try, darlin’,” he said, “Now suit up and meet me in the garage. Five minutes, and I expect you there, or you will be doing push-ups all afternoon.”

Stomping around the room after Uncle Ted had closed the door might make her feel better for a moment, but she knew him. She knew there was no dissuading him once he set his mind on something. Without a chance of resisting, she went ahead and put her gi on, tying the brown belt around her waist. It had been over a year since her Dad had made her workout in Kenpo, but it felt good to put the belt on. That belt was a symbol of her hard work for many years. Her dad and uncle, both being advanced Black Belt holders, had forced her and her brother into training since they were old enough to walk. But, she would be willing to swear that it was harder for the Ward children to advance than it had been for any other child ever. She had trained for eight years, and watched younger kids get Black Belts. Only her father could say she was ready to earn it. Her brother, Kyle, had never given up training and had earned his first degree Black Belt two years ago. She thought maybe he had advanced one more time, but wasn’t certain. She didn’t do this stuff anymore, she had a life.

Natalee walked out into the living room, where her Mom was a little too excited to see her in the gi. Her aunt Kayla ran up and gave her a hug.

“Ah, sweetie, it is so good to see you in the gi again.” Kayla blurted out.

Maxine smiled broadly and called out from the porch, “Ooh, can I come watch?”

Nat just deadpanned at her mother and walked toward the garage. On the floor of the garage, Ted had laid out the padded flooring that one usually sees in a dojo. There, in the middle of the garage, her uncle sat kneeling, his eyes closed. “Come over beside me. You know what to do, let’s warm up.”

At her uncle’s cadence, they did all kinds of stretching. She knew that getting warmed up was the best way to prevent an injury, so she was more than happy to do it. She certainly didn’t want to gimp around the house for a week or two because she was unprepared for the workout.

“Today,” Ted began, “Let’s go through some meditative katas and a couple of sets, then we can spar. Let’s see if you can kick Uncle Ted’s ass!”

Natalee couldn’t help but smile. Beneath all of her disapproval of anything uncool, Nat loved her uncle dearly, and she knew he loved her too. They began the katas. She really had to concentrate on each move, the pattern of her feet, and the movement of each limb. In a remarkably short period of time, she was crisp. She was hitting and sticking her moves in the pattern with a speed and comfort she wasn’t sure she had ever felt.

“Nice, Nat. I think someone has been training in secret.” Ted smiled through his moves, but as Nat looked in the wall-sized mirror he had up on one side of the garage, she swore she was doing the moves as well as her uncle. It was kind of fun to watch, and the katas really centered and settled her. She felt in full control of herself. It was kind of awesome. “Follow my moves.” Ted said and began doing complicated kata moves, but as she watched, Nat found herself following along without a problem. Ted led them through about six different katas, and four sets, before turning to face her.

“I am really impressed, young lady! Your dad may need you to do a demo for him, so he can get some more students.” Ted’s pride showed all over his face. “You ready to mix it up?”

‘Mix it up’ was a euphemism for sparring. She nodded and they went over to a box on the floor and pulled out some sparring gloves and foot covers. Ted really didn’t need those, his control was amazing, just like her Dad’s. They wore them because that was protocol, and probably so Nat wouldn’t kick or punch her uncle too hard.

Taking opposite sides of the mat, they met in the middle and touched gloves, a universal sign of good sportsmanship before a fight. Then her uncle gave a jab here and a jab there. Natalee looked at him and stopped moving.

“Why are you taking it easy on me?” she asked.

“Oho!” he said in response, “Okay, it is on then.”

Her uncle closed the gap with amazing speed, but Nat just sidestepped and countered with a punch at his side. Ted pulled up and looked at her, “Nice, girl, nice.”

Once again, they were moving around. Ted seemed to be not even trying and it was pissing her off. His moves were telegraphed, slow and too predictable. It felt a little insulting, so she went on the offensive. She moved quickly and accurately. The look of surprise and shock that showed in her uncle’s eyes was a fine reward. She was keeping up with him, even beating him at times. They continued for more than an hour.

Calculating his plan with a precision that only those trained by conflict can manage, Eric walked to the front of his dojo. In the pouring rain, his men were now going door to door on the street. If people answered, they were questioned and assessed. If no one answered, his men busted in a window or the door and made sure the shops were empty. He had sent them out just after lunch, twenty-five of the twenty-seven. He kept two with him for other duties. He stared into the large wall-covering mirrors at the front of the room, looking at his own face.

What did I see? Was any of that real?

In his desire to collect his thoughts, he had gone into the dark last night to do a meditative kata. In that blackness, all alone, he had felt a power in each punch, in each kick, that was growing. Eventually, it presented a perceptible light around his fists and hands. He had power, what he knew as chi energy, which he had only read about and frankly, had always doubted truly existed. He knew it more from movies and books, but it was fiction. He was a man of the world, every time he heard about such a thing and checked it out, there was no truth to it. Waking early, he had made his men workout, and then had done a breaking demo.

Eric hated breaking demos. The science of it was there, he had broken many one-inch pine boards over the years, they broke on the grain. If one followed through, the force of the strike broke it. He hated doing the demonstrations, because people loved them and it wasn’t what it looked like. It wasn’t some form of extra-body energy; it was just physics. Mass times velocity equals power. But this morning, when he did the breaking ceremony, he almost broke the arm of the guy holding the boards. He made each of the men hit him as hard as they could. He felt nothing. It was chi energy; he was sure of it. Now, he would harness and display the chi, he was going to use it to show people he was in charge.

Two of his men brought in five people from down the street. “They want to stay” the older of the men stated. Eric walked up and looked into the eyes of each. They were villagers. They wouldn’t be called that here, but in the sand, the mewling civilians were called villagers. There was an old man, three women and a young boy.

“Why do you want to stay?” Eric asked.

One of the women spoke up, “I don’t know what is happening, but we need to be protected. I have been in cities with looting and such. It is going to happen here if the power doesn’t come back on soon. Only the rain is keeping them out. You have numbers, that means safety. I am begging you, please let us stay with you. We can cook, we can clean up, we can stand watch for looters.”

Eric thought a moment and then began a speech he knew he would have many times today. “Okay, here is the deal. We don’t think the power is coming back anytime soon. If you stay, you do exactly what I tell you to do at all times. No exceptions. Once you are in, the penalty will be stiff if you put us in danger. Not obeying my orders puts us at risk. I will need each of you to commit personally to this, even you, son.” He looked down at the boy.

The boy nodded. “I need to hear you say you will follow orders.” Eric said.

“I will follow orders.” The boy said, then the four others followed suit. Eric sent each of them into stores on the street to bring back any food or anything valuable, so they could “keep it safe”. He walked up the stairs of the building he was in, a three story building built in around 1910. On the top floor, they had one of the soldiers, who had decided not to play along, one of his former students, who had done the same, a shop owner and a cop. All of them did not want to get with the program. All of them had their own ideas. They were a danger to his team.

Eric walked over to the windows. In the dark, he had not realized the advantage these higher buildings gave him. The rain was still pouring down, but in mid-day, he could see most of the block they were on. After a short thought on this, he realized that he couldn’t even see the street yesterday. Was it possible that the rain was letting up? He watched his men go from storefront to storefront, but there were multiple floors in some of these buildings. He needed watchers at the highest points near each corner. He walked to the back of the building and opened the door to the fire escape. Someone could get up this, or someone could get out of it. There was an alley there. He realized that he didn’t need to secure the opposite side of the street as much as he needed to secure the block he was on. Glancing down at a small restaurant on the corner on the other side of the alley, he thought there might be food there.

Food. Resources would be very limited. They needed to ration, and they needed to systematically loot any resource or item of value first from the block they were on and then moving out. He needed to control his surroundings. Also, they had twelve rifles with affixed bayonets, which were good weapons, but they would need more if push came to shove. As he walked back in and locked the door, one of the tied up and gagged individuals was trying to communicate with him. It was Marcus, the student who didn’t want to join, but didn’t want to leave. Eric walked over and pulled the gag down.

“Sensei,” he said, “I am sorry. There is more going on here than I thought. I am hungry, I am aching form these binds, and I am ready to comply. I want to be part of the group.”

Eric smiled a broad smile, but he wasn’t fooled for a minute. He helped the man to his feet and untied his hands. He led him down the stairs. In the dojo, most of his men had returned.

“Men,” Eric began, “Marcus has changed his mind. He would like to be part of the group now.” No one said anything, they just looked at him. Eric saw the tension in Marcus’ shoulders. He had wondered how he was going to show power to secure his command and Marcus had given him the chance. Marcus was a Black Belt and a gifted fighter. Eric knew what the man would do, even before he knew, if that was possible.

The man took a long stride out and turned to strike Eric, swinging low for the stomach. Eric let out a low Kiai, bracing his stomach against the punch. The man hit, but Eric only felt enough to laugh. Then Eric performed a three-inch punch. Holding his fist out, Eric settled into a stance and the chi from his fist hit Marcus in the mid-section and the 225-pound man flew in the air about eight feet and landed on his back. He rolled over and went to rise, but Eric was already on him. Using the chi, he kicked the man in the side, raising him about three feet off the floor and then quickly sidekicked him while he was in mid-air, launching the man through the window and into the street. Eric walked out into the rain.

Marcus lay on his back, coughing up blood. He was covered with small cuts from the glass of the window and was most likely not going to survive the hits. This was not enough of a show to ensure obedience from the others. Eric lifted his leg straight up high over his head and came down with a crushing axe kick, his heel smashing into Marcus’ sternum. It wasn’t just that Eric felt the shattering of bones, which he did. It was the sound of pulverized bone and flesh which preceded the massive amount of blood that flew out of the man’s mouth and nose. Eric had crushed his chest, crushed his heart. Marcus lay dead in the street.

“Gather him up, take him over to the park and leave him near the fountain.” Eric said and two men rushed forward to do as told. “He does not deserve the honor of burial. That is only for ours. He can be eaten by the birds.”

Eric turned and walked back into the dojo, fully aware of every eye in the vicinity watching him go.
That will be enough fear. They will not get out of line again.
A smug smile crossed his lips.