Apocalypsis: Book 2 (Warpaint) (4 page)

“What are you waiting for, then?  Bring it.”  I waved him over, and the other guys got out of the way.  

He walked up casually as if he were waiting for some kind of formal start to the fight.

I didn’t see the need, though.  I strode up to him without stopping and put him immediately on the defensive.

But he wasn’t quick enough.  Like every guy who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, he stood there with his legs apart, looking for balance, assuming I wouldn’t go there.  He lifted his hands up in a move I’d seen guys do who’d had some Kung Fu training.

I telegraphed an obvious punch, but pulled it at the last second and brought up my leg, nailing him in the nads.

He bent over in half, which brought his face down to my level, putting him in the perfect position for a couple of palm strikes.  That sent him stumbling off to the side, and he valiantly tried to stay on his feet, but an elbow to the cheek and a hammer strike to his neck ended that plan in a hurry.

He lie face down in the grass, writhing in pain.

I wiped my forehead off with my arm and danced back and forth on my toes, my hands up for some straight punching action in case anyone decided to get stupid.

“Anyone else wanna go?” I asked, looking at the high-fiver guy and his friends.

No one took me up on my offer.

“Yeah.  I didn’t think so.”  I stopped bouncing and dropped my arms.  “You guys ready to train?  Or you still want to goof around and act like you can take me down?”

Paci smiled, speaking for the group, looking as proud as my dad sometimes did when I brought a big guy down in the dojo.  “No, Nokosi.  We’re ready to train.”

“Good,” I said, bringing my hands together in one clap, like my dad always used to do with his groups.  I walked in a big circle, getting my head around my plan, talking to them while I looked at the ground and paced.  I’m sure I looked a little crazy, but that was part of my plan.  They needed to see that I was no lady out here.  I was a machine.  A monster, even.  Nothing was personal.  It was all about defeating the enemy … immobilizing him …
ending
him if necessary.

“Fan out,” I barked.  “Two rows.  Straight punches.  Ready?”  I stopped in front of them, raising my hands up near my face, my elbows bent and in, resting my weight on one foot while the other balanced on its ball.

They rushed to get into position, trying to avoid stepping on their downed friend.  I just ignored him.

“Follow my lead.  One-two!” I shouted, demonstrating two straight punches.  “Use your hips and shoulder.  Drive into it!  Drive!”  Mine were aimed slightly upwards, because everyone I fought was taller than me.  “Not
up
, out straight!” I yelled, correcting their form.  “You’re taller than me.  You’re aiming for faces.  If you’re tall, bring it down a bit.”

I did a few more reps.  “Again!  One-Two!  One-Two!  One-Two!”  Then I walked around watching their form.  Some of them had raw talent, like Paci and Kowi.  I could already see who was going to need extra attention - guys like Yokci.  I stopped occasionally, lining myself up with someone, doing a series of punches so they could watch me, side-by-side.  I could see it already improving their work.

 The injured guy slowly got up and stood off to the side.  I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder.  “You ready to work?”

“In a minute.  Hey.  I’m … uh … sorry.”  He grunted the apology out, probably still feeling the aftershocks of my stinky-shoes-to-the-crotch move.

I didn’t even look at him.  I just let my hand drop and walked away.  He was going to have to work a lot harder than that to earn my forgiveness.

As far as I was concerned, this was no game.  What we were working on here could mean the difference between life and death with these guys someday.  If he wanted to make it about jokes or stupid crap like guys are stronger than girls, he could go live in someone else’s swamp.  We were only going be strong as we could be if we were able to admit where we had weaknesses and did our best to fix them.  It would make it a lot easier for me to train them if I could control them; and the best way to do that was through intimidation.  At least, that was how it was going to work with the guys.  The girls were a different story.

I worked with the first group of guys for ninety minutes.  By the time we were done, I had a nice sweat going and my students were about to collapse.  I finished with pushups and planks, making them hold the pushup position for a full five minutes.  None of them could do it without a break, but I could.  Of all the things I did today with them, this one probably made the biggest impression.  When I stood afterwards, my muscles were totally pumped.  I didn’t even have to move an arm or a leg for their tone to be broadcast to anyone looking my way.  I silently thanked my dad for training me all those years and making me into such a skilled fighter.  Who knew where I’d be right now if I didn’t have this valuable skill to offer these people in exchange for a safe place to live.

When I stood and motioned for them all to join me, they came over, no one saying a word.  They all kept their eyes glued to me, ready to eat up whatever I was going to say.  I had them exactly where I wanted them.

“Listen up, guys.  I don’t have time to mess around anymore.  Today was a freebie. I let you off easy.  You get one day of rest and then another day with me, and so on and so forth until I say you’re ready to do something different.  You’d better come prepared to work.  Anyone who can’t hang with this group, joins the girls.”

The friend of the guy with the injured balls snorted until he caught my eye.  Then he went quiet.

“You think I’m kidding?  Try me.  I have the chief’s support.”  I didn’t even look at Kowi.  I had to show them how sure I was of my position in the tribe.  I prayed he was either nodding or saying nothing.

The guy just bobbed his head up and down, assuring me he was okay with my plan.  I was certain the humiliation any of them would feel about being put with the girls would be enough to get their best efforts out of them.  I had a feeling some of these guys would be practicing that plank exercise in their off-time now, which is exactly what I wanted.

“Why aren’t we training every day?” asked Paci.

I had to smile at his obvious enthusiasm.  He was going to promote quickly.  “Your muscles have been damaged today.  They need time to heal.  It’s better to have two days in between, but we don’t have that kind of time.”

“What’s the big hurry?” asked some guy in the back of the group.

“We’ll discuss that at dinner tonight,” said Kowi, saving me from having to explain anything.

I couldn’t imagine that this kid hadn’t seen or at least heard about Celia, but it was possible they didn’t think her injuries or problems could touch them here.  They were in for a rude awakening, but it wasn’t my problem.  I wasn’t the chief and I didn’t want to be.  All I wanted to do was get some workouts in, eat some decent food, and live as far away from the canners as I could … with my little family consisting of a nutty German, a skinny fairy, and a naked poodle.

***

I had a one-hour break before my first session with a group of girls was supposed to start.  I used that time to lie down in my hut, eat some lunch that had been delivered, and hydrate myself.  Peter chattered away while he re-organized the pantry, not seeming to care whether I was listening or not.

“I’m going to get your schedule in order by tomorrow.  I’m doing it in my head until someone can get me some paper and a pen.  I hope we meet with the Creeks tonight.  Then I can get all their names and stuff.  I assume they’ll always come to you at the same place, rather than have you traipse all over the swamp coming to them.  I mean, that seems like the fair thing to do.  You’re like, the master or whatever you call it, so you shouldn’t be inconvenienced.  But what I need to know is, how many people do you want in each class?  And do you get any days off?  Because its seems like you should.”

I answered him, looking up at the ceiling of the chickee hut, appreciating how the branches and palm fronds were put together so tightly that they kept the rain from getting through, even without roof tiles, shingles, or tar.

“I need two days off a week, but not next to each other.  Try Sunday and Wednesday, maybe.  And no more than ten people in a group unless we get desperate.  It’s better to always have even numbers also.  Oh, and no more than three sessions a day.  And I need at least an hour break between them, too.”  I had no idea how he was going to keep it all straight in his head without writing it down.

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Where’s Bodo?” I asked.

“I have no idea.  He disappeared again.”

“I hate when he does that.  He always gets into trouble.”

“Not always.”

“Okay, not always, but when he
does
get in trouble, it’s not minor trouble.  It’s major.”

“True.”  Peter clanked some cans around on the shelves before saying, “So what’s the deal with you guys, anyway?  Are you like, romantically involved?”

I chuckled.  “Romantically involved?  What the heck does that mean?”  All I could think about was a candlelight dinner at a restaurant - a pretty ridiculous idea considering where I was and what the world was like right now.

“I don’t know,” he said, coming over and sitting next to me, gathering Buster into his lap.  “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

I sighed.  “I have no idea.  It’s confusing.”

“Why?  What’s so confusing?  He likes you.  You like him.  Seems pretty simple.”

I turned my head to look at Peter and Buster, busy playing the
you-can’t-lick-me because-I-move-my-face-away-too-fast
game.

“Well, for one, I can never tell if he’s serious or joking.”

“Uh-huh.  Well, that kiss you got today seemed pretty serious.”  Peter gave me a sassy look, challenging me to deny it.

I smiled, trying hard not to, but failing.  “Yeah, that was kind of serious.  But all the other times he seems like he’s goofing off.   Like today he told me he wants to be Mr. Bryn.”

Peter giggled.  “That’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Shut up,” I said, feeling my face go red.

“Well, even if he does joke around a lot, I know he likes you.  I can tell these things.”

“Oh, so you’re, like, lovelorn-advice-column-guy?”

“No.  I’m more like psychiatrist-with-lovesick-girl-on-the-couch-guy.”

“I’m not lovesick,” I said, firmly believing it.  “I’m just … I don’t know.  Worried or something.”

“Worried about what?”

“Him.  His past.  His intentions.  Our future.  You.  Choose any of the above.”  It was depressing, really, hearing it said aloud.  It should have been so much simpler than this.  The world as we knew it had ended. There was no more high school drama, no more parents hassling us to do our homework or go to bed or stop texting.  But life was even more complicated now, not to mention dangerous.

Peter frowned.  “His past … the future … me?  What are you talking about?”

“Well, first of all, I have no idea where the hell he came from.”

“He already told us that.  Germany.  And West Palm Beach.”

“Yeah, but he’s been alone for, what?  Six months or longer?   I mean, what’s his deal?  Why was he alone that day we met him?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe for the same reason I was.”

“He didn’t lose a sibling to the canners.  He would have told us that.  And a guy like him?  Mr. Happy Guy?  He should have had a flock of people around him, right?  Or am I crazy?”

Peter sighed.  “No.  You’re not crazy.  It
is
kind of weird, but I like him.  I’m sure he has a rational explanation that will make your worry seem silly.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you really think he has a dark past?  That he did something bad?  Because if you try to tell me you think he’s a reformed canner, I’m gonna slap you silly.”

“Bigger men have tried, pipsqueak, and failed.  Miserably.”

“Yeah, well, bigger men might not resort to titty-twisting like I will.”

I barked out a laugh.  “What did you just say?”  I sat up suddenly, still laughing, crossing my hands over my chest protectively.  “You’d give me a purple nurple?”

He shrugged.  “I’ve learned to do whatever it takes to get a bully to leave me alone.”

I help up my hand, hunched over and nodding.  “Respect, my friend.  Respect.”

He gave me a high-five, smiling shyly.

“I think you need to come to my next training session.”

“When is it?”

“Five minutes.  With the girls.”

“Fine.  I’ll go.  I’ve already organized our pantry eight different times.  Either we need more food or I need a bigger job.  Otherwise, I’m going to go nuts in this place in under a week.”

I got up on my feet and held my hands out for him to grab.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure there’s plenty for you to do around here.  We just need to find out what our places are in the tribe.  That’ll all be figured out at dinner, I promise.”

“Good.”  He stood with my help and then wiped his hands off on his jeans.
“Ew.
  Sweaty.”

“Sorry.”  My body was still humming in high gear, and the stifling heat and humidity sure wasn’t helping cool me down.  I glanced over at the swamp, trying to figure out how desperate I’d have to be to swim in it.

“I saw a snake in there today,” said Peter, looking off into the water.  “It was creepy.”

 I guess that answers my question: I’d have to be really, really desperate.

His comment made me think of the gator we saw before.  “Not as creepy as that gator momma that was coming after you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  Except that was more terrifying than creepy.”

“Totally.”

We heard someone approaching and both turned to greet our visitor.

“Are you ready to go?” asked a scowling Coli, appearing out of nowhere, silent until she was practically on top of us.

I rolled my eyes at Peter out of her view before turning back.  “Yeah.  You training with me today?”

“Unfortunately.”

At least she’s honest. 
“Good,” I said as I walked by her.  “I’ve been looking forward to kicking your ass for a while now.”