The Fall: Victim Zero (25 page)

“
I can--” A fit of coughing overtook him. “I can fight just fine.”

Kate bent down to look him in the eyes. “No, you can't. I've heard you explain how you fight zombies, and it's a good start. You look for weaknesses to exploit, and you use the strengths you have. But it isn't enough in the long run. Screwing around is going to get you killed. Relying on your armor is going to get you killed. Counting on being big and strong is going,” she said, punctuating each word with a light punch to his shoulder, “To. Get. You. Killed.”

She stood, stepping back from him gracefully. “You've got potential. You're smart enough to know how effective you've been so far at defending yourself. But it's also made you dangerously overconfident. The way you move when you fight reminds me of some beginner students I've seen who thought six weeks of training made them invincible.”

Kell finally made it to his feet. “Okay, I believe you. I really do.”

Kate smiled at him, and there was nothing pleasant in it. “Your head does, sure. But we need to drill the lesson home so your heart
knows
it. By the end of today's lesson I want you to believe there is absolutely no chance of you winning a fight against me, even though I'm half your size and weight.”

Kell groaned. “What the hell did you do before?” he asked, trying to buy a little recovery time.

She began to circle him slowly, forcing him to move in kind. “Oh, let's see...my dad was a Marine, and he wanted his little girl to be able to take care of herself. So when I was ten, he started showing me everything twenty years in the Corps taught him about fighting. Everything from disarming a man with a rifle to dirty tricks.

“
In high school I began practicing Krav Maga with a friend of Dad's who moved here from Israel. From there I dabbled in Judo and Jujutsu, did some weapons training to build my wrist strength and control, and generally spent all my free time learning everything I could about fighting, self-defense, and body control.”

She moved in suddenly, and Kell stumbled backward to avoid being dropped like a lead weight for a fourth time.

“That's good,” she said. “Maybe because my dad and I spent so much time sparring together, it just kind of became my thing. I did other stuff. You know, dated people and eventually got married. Had a book club. But I always loved the martial arts, especially the practical aspects. My husband encouraged me to make a business out of it long before he and I got married.”

There was pain in her eyes as she remembered him, the loss written across her face. “Long story short, I ended up with several large contracts, training law enforcement, some military, that kind of thing.”

“Holy shit,” Kell said. “You taught soldiers how to kill?”

She grinned that evil grin. “No, I taught them how to live. Just like I'm going to do with you.”

Kate stopped, arms at her sides and appearing totally relaxed. “Now I want you to kick the shit out of me if you can, K. And I'll teach you why you can't.”

Kell pushed down the groan that so desperately wanted to escape, and with some reluctance tried to beat up a little girl.

Twenty minutes later he sat against a wall in the corner of the main building used as a training area, tilting his head back and holding a hand to his face, hoping his nose wasn't broken.

Kate was on the other side of the mat talking with Johnson, who had been sitting with a number of his fellow guards watching as Kell was soundly destroyed by a woman who had many features in common with a feather. As soon as the lesson was over, Johnson approached and asked if they could join in next time. Kell fervently hoped so; practicing against Kate was like trying to fight a whirlwind made of knives. Knives that droned on with a constant stream of snarky comments while they cut him.

One of the guards ambled over to Kell, offering him a hand up. Grateful, Kell took it and stood.

“
She's something else,” the man said.

Kell snorted, which sent a sharp wave of pain through his face. “No kidding, man. I feel like I've been through a wheat thresher.”

The other man winked at him. “Yeah, but I'll bet you get the other side of the coin when you get home, huh?”

For a moment Kell didn't understand, then ice filled his veins. “It's not like that. Not at all. We're roommates. Friends.”

“Oh, come on. You live with her and Laura, and you're telling me you never hit that? I--”

Then Kell was on him, pinning the man to the ground and slamming his fists into the guard wildly. Where his careful self-control usually rested there was only the bright red fire of uncontrolled rage; Kell ignored the shouts that followed, the pleas for him to stop from the bloody mess beneath him.

“You motherfucker! You sick piece of shit! You know what they went through!”

Kell's screams were cut off as someone wrapped a forearm around his throat. It was just enough to stop him from taking a breath, but it didn't register to him as the warning it was. He struggled to land more blows, then felt his arms being grabbed by more people. Adrenaline and wrath pushed him onward, dragging the weight of bodies trying to hold him back as he bent toward his victim.

“Sorry about this,” a voice said in his ear.

Then everything went dark.

A short while later he was sitting with Kate in the big man's office. Jack was an older man, and the room he worked out of had been a maintenance office at one time. Kell stared at the floor in misery.

“
I would like to know what happened, please,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

Kell tried to speak, but couldn't form words. He shook his head.

“Kate, would you care to explain?” Jack asked.

She looked at Kell, then the man who led the entire Complex. “From what I heard, the guard he attacked was insinuating that K was having, or should be having, an intimate relationship with me or Laura. Possibly both.”

“And is he?” Jack asked in that same quiet tone. Kell looked up at that, the fire inside him roaring back to life, but Jack's expression stopped him. There was no avarice in it, no judgment, but simply a desire to have all the information possible.

Kate shook her head. “No, sir. K lives with us. He's our friend, but he has gone out of his way to treat us as people first. I don't think he's even capable of seeing us romantically. Whether that's a result of how we met--” she gave Jack a significant look “--or because he lost his own wife, I don't know. I tend to think it's a little of both.”

Jack studied them both for a long while. “I'm sure you understand I can't let something like this slide, yes? The guard you attacked will answer to me about what he said when I ask him his half of the story. I don't take kindly to men who ignore the trials others have lived through. But your reaction is not acceptable, son. Not at all.”

Kell swallowed the blood in his mouth, flowing through his sinuses from his nose. “I know, sir. God, I feel awful. I was tired and--” he almost said
hung over
but remembered at the last moment that his booze were contraband “--in pain from the lesson, and I'd been feeling sick this morning to start out with. I lost control. I can't explain how much that bothers me.”

“
It bothers me, too, son. I understand the reaction, but we can't have people breaking jaws and beating men half to death over things like this. You're going to be punished. You know that.”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Kate,” Jack said. “Is this the first time you've heard something like this?”

She sighed. “No, sir. Laura and I have both heard people gossip.”

Kell was horrified. “Jesus, why didn't you tell me? They shouldn't--”

“
What?” Kate said. “I should tell you so you can do something like this? Come on, I thought we were past you trying to fight my fights for me. What people say isn't worth the time it takes to shrug.”

Kell shook his head violently. “After what you've been through, people shouldn't say things like that. It's wrong.”

Kate laughed bitterly. “After what I've been through, do you think words compare at all? Do you think they have any power to hurt me?”

He had no answer to that.

“I need to think about this, K. I'm going to have you put in a secure room until I've come to a decision.” Jack ran a finger along his jaw absently. “You admit your fault, which is to the good. Will you also accept whatever punishment comes?”

“
I will on two conditions,” Kell said. Kate tried to interrupt him, but he shook his head. “The first is that I go talk to the guard. You can put me in cuffs, have an escort if you want. I need to apologize. The second is yes, I'll submit to being punished, but you have to let the guy I attacked decide what it will be.”

Jack frowned. “He may be very angry, you know.”

“I know. I have it coming.”

The older man took a deep breath and shrugged. “Not how I usually do things, but so long as he doesn't go overboard with it, I'll allow it. And somehow I don't think you'll need a guard. Kate will take you to him, then to your cell.”

In the end the apology had to wait; Brad, the man Kell attacked, was sedated when he reached the small medical center. Kate walked with him to his cell, which turned out to be the same room he'd left behind after moving in with the ladies.

Hurt and exhausted, the memory of his attack kept him awake all night. Over and over again it replayed behind his eyes. The anger was there, fresh and strong as ever, each time. Only now disgust was riding shotgun, with a healthy dose of self-loathing.

Kell was still awake at seven the next morning when a guard unlocked his door and led him to where Brad lay. The man's face was bruised black in some places, but there was precious little real estate that had escaped damage. His nose was clearly broken, as was his jaw. Kell's hands, damaged in the attack but ignored, throbbed at the sight.

Brad looked up at him through swollen eyes. There was no fear there; Kell suspected the pain medicine played a part.

“
I won't bother you long,” Kell said. “I want to apologize. I know that's not enough. What you said...it was the kind of thing a lot of guys would say. It was tasteless and maybe even cruel. It hit me hard, because I saw what Laura and Kate went through. I should have yelled at you, or made you feel like shit.”

Kell waved a hand at Brad's face. “I shouldn't have done this. What you said was wrong, but what I did was a hundred times worse. I'm so sorry. I really am. I'll take whatever is coming.”

He turned and left the room, wondering if Jack had a chance to tell his victim the punishment was up to him. Kell realized he didn't care; the apology was genuine, but whether Brad thought it was didn't matter.

It only took three hours for word to come down. The punishment sought was two days confinement, a week hard labor, and an apology. He was relieved but surprised, expecting worse.

Life fell into a predictable rhythm in the weeks and months following his altercation with Brad. Kell spent three to five days out on runs and two days home with Laura and Kate. Johnson and the other guards invited him to join their training sessions with Kate, assuring him Brad the guard was aware of how people viewed his comments. Kell declined, opting instead for the more brutal private lessons with Kate.

There was no question he needed to keep a low profile; too many people knew his name and a few of them had reason to hate him. Phillip was the worst of those, a sword dangling over his head that could drop at any time. Rumor was Brad held no hard feelings, but Kell had a hard time buying it, as did Kate and Laura. A man doesn't take the kind of beating Kell dished out without anger and resentment at the least.

He stayed gone as much as possible. October turned to November, then January, and the routine solidified into reflex. Kell spent time out in the world, sometimes practicing the things Kate taught him, and then he came home. Every week was a little celebration.

Just past the middle of January, Laura approached Kell about an assignment. He was lounging in the expansion he'd spent his free time working on, an eight-by-eight tunnel of wood fifteen feet long situated behind the bus. It was his space, though of course the ladies were welcome at any time. Kate had suggested it after the thousandth time Kell complained about his legs hanging off the couch. It was the only place in their home big enough for him, though he slept on the floor.

She knocked on the edge of the hole that connected the bus and his bachelor pad—which was a nicer way of thinking of it than 'giant wooden box'—and waited for him to invite her in before twitching the curtain aside.

The pallet beneath him was a thick mat of blankets, more heaped on top, but Kell sat shirtless, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts as he tinkered with a small iron puzzle box he'd brought in on his last run.

“
Good god, it's two thirds the way through January, dude. How can you stand to sit there without a shirt on?”

Intent on his puzzle, Kell grunted. “I spend most of my time outside nowadays. There's a fire going. I'm plenty warm.” He tossed the puzzle box on the pallet and gestured at the large wicker chair across from his bed. “Want to sit and tell me what's up?”