Apocalypsis: Book 2 (Warpaint) (18 page)

“Oh, okay.  Dat’s not a problem.  I can do dat.”

I was sad, thinking to myself that he probably
could
do all the things I would use as tests to qualify guys and girls for our team.  Now I was going to have to figure out how to keep both of us alive and unscathed as we entered enemy territory and rescued our prisoners of war.

I was going to be studying George’s journal tonight as long as the firelight would let me.

Chapter Three

I FELL ASLEEP IN BETWEEN Peter and Bodo as usual, but got a much better goodnight kiss from Bodo than I did the last time; and at some point during the night, Bodo came over and joined me on my mattress.

I woke up in his arms and laid there for a few minutes just enjoying the sensation of having someone hold me, making me feel safe and loved.  I wondered if my dad were looking down on me and approving.  I liked to think he was, and it made me smile.

Buster saw my eyes open and the happy look on my face, and wiggled over to lick my chin, taking advantage of the fact that my arms were pinned down by Mr. Bryn.

I pushed Bodo away and got up, wiping the dog drool off my face as I followed Buster out of the hut and headed over to the bathrooms.

I was glad for the few minutes alone before the day started so I could get my head on straight and figure out finally what I wanted to do.  I tried to think of all the situations we’d be getting into and the skills we’d need to execute our plans, designing physical tests around them that would highlight the candidates’ strengths and weaknesses.

Peter was outside the outhouse door when I finished, yawning and looking still half asleep.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked.

“Gotta get you organized,” he said, stepping into the small room and leaving me alone outside.

I gave him some space and waited for him to come out.  He joined me a couple minutes later and we walked back to the hut together.

“I worked it all out.”  Peter paused to yawn again.  “I have fifteen people per session.  Sorry I couldn’t make them smaller.  You only gave me a day and there are lots of people to see.”

“Don’t worry about it.  That’s fine.  How many sessions?”

“You have one hundred and thirteen indians and Bodo.  I assumed you wanted to include him.”

I didn’t argue, even though the truth was I wanted to keep him out of it.

“You said thirty minute sessions and all in one day, so that makes almost eight sessions.  And you need breaks in between and meals, so that’s pretty much you working all day.  I mixed guys and girls together, since I figured you’d want to test them to find the strongest ones, and it didn’t make sense to split the girls off by themselves.  I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.  And I can manage that schedule.  I thought it was going to be worse, actually.  Thanks, Peter.”

“You are very welcome.”  He smiled, proud of himself, I could tell.

“Did you write it down for me somewhere?”

“No.  It’s in my head, though.”

I looked at him askance.  “You have all of them?  In your head?”

“Yeah.”

“Names and everything.”  I said.  No way did I believe that.

“Yes.  Do you doubt me?”

“No.  Yes.  I don’t know.”

He rattled off a list of people I was going to see at 11:30, and I put my hand up to stop him.

“Fine.  I get it.  You memorized the entire schedule.  How did you do that?”

“Discipline.  I’ve forced myself for years to remember all kinds of details.  I can look at a scene and remember almost everything I saw, even months later.”

“Wow.  That’s kinda freaky, actually.”

“It’s a skill, Bryn, not a handicap.”

I was thinking about how it was a skill we could probably really use in our recon mission.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share my thoughts out loud, though, because the idea of having little wimpy Peter out there anywhere near those canners made me feel sick to my stomach.  I decided to wait and see what the day brought before I seriously considered it.

“So what happened with you and Bodo yesterday?  I noticed him demanding kisses and you not arguing about it.  Does that mean he’s Mr. Bryn now?”

“Shut up,” I said, shoving Peter gently.  “Don’t call him that.  If friggin Paci or any of them hear it, I’ll never live it down.”  I sighed.  “But yeah, he’s, like, my boyfriend I guess you could say.”

“That’s nice.”  Peter was smiling, so I knew he wasn’t making fun of me.

“Yeah, it is.  I think my dad would have liked him.”

“So his secrets don’t bother you anymore?”

“No.”

“Did you find out what they are?”

“Yep.”

“Well?  Fess up!  What’d he say?”

“I’ll have to let him tell you.  Or show you.  It’s not my secret to share.”

“Party pooper,” said Peter, pouting.  “That is
so
not fair.”

“No, this one is not your regular secret kind of thing.  It’s something more than that.”

“Oh,” said Peter, more subdued now.  “Do you think he’ll tell me?”

“I know he will.  Just give him some time.”

Peter sighed.  “Okay.  It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Not if I have anything to say about it.

***

I arrived at the session after everyone had already gathered in the clearing set up for our purposes.

Fifteen kids stood in front of me, more guys than girls, all of them wearing indian garb in one form or another.  It made me think that when we did our recon, we’d want to be wearing regular street clothes and not something that identified us as coming from Kahayatle.  We didn’t need to give the canners any more clues than necessary about our origins and home.

“Thanks for coming, everyone.  Please form three horizontal lines in front of me.  Spread out so you don’t hit each other your with kicks.”  I waited for them to comply before continuing.

“The purpose of this exercise is to gauge whether you have the skills and strength to accompany me and the chiefs on a mission into a nearby town to rescue some kids who are being held like Celia was, by canners … cannibal kids.  Obviously if you aren’t interested in going on this mission, you should just step to the side.  We don’t need anyone with us who isn’t dedicated to the task.”

No one said anything or moved out of formation.  They all just watched me, serious looks on their faces.  Only the slight morning breeze caused any movement out in the group, lifting up some of their long dark hair and blowing strands across their faces.

“The eight who are chosen will go through some intense training over the next five days, so you can pretty much plan on not doing any of your regular chores during that time.”

Again, there was no reaction from anyone.  I hoped this meant that the ones left behind wouldn’t mind picking up the slack, even though it really wasn’t my problem.  A part of me didn’t want to be the one causing issues in this community, even if it were for a good cause.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this for any of you.  We are going after people with weapons, who murder and eat kids.  They are animals.  We’d like to do this in a way that’s safe, but to tell you it’s going to be easy and that it’s a no-risk proposition would be a lie.  Some of us could get hurt or killed.”  I surveyed the faces looking at me.  “So, last chance.  If you are not interested - and no one is going to think anything bad of you if you’re not - please step out.”

Again, no one moved.

“Fine.  Let’s get started then.  Forward punches, begin!”  I started doing my own, a combination of three, counting them out, watching as the kids all fell into the rhythm, some of them faster than others.

“Add this kick!” I ordered loudly, demonstrating a sharp kick to a kneecap.  “Punch! Punch! Punch! Kick!  And again! …”

I walked down the rows vertically, watching them work.  I could already see a few of them sweating.  After five full minutes, I already had six who I knew wouldn’t have the stamina to hang with me.

“Stop.  If I walked by you and touched your shoulder at any point in that exercise, please step out.”

The six heavy-breathers left the group, all of them with heads held down.

“You can leave or stay, but you lack the stamina necessary for the team.  I hope I’ll see you in my training sessions later so I can remedy that.”  I didn’t mean to be harsh, but I didn’t have time to baby anybody through this.  It was only my first session and I was already feeling the pressure.  This was going to be harder than I thought, picking the best eight.  Stamina was a good starting point, but there was so much more.

The six I had pulled out stood off to the side, none of them leaving the area.  I ignored them and continued with my evaluation.

“If you’re taller than the person in front of you, tap him on the shoulder and move forward.”

They all hesitated for a second, looking confused.

“Do it!” I said loudly.

Feet shuffled and they moved to follow my instructions.  The taller kids would now be in front.

I was happy to see that they didn’t question me.  It was good in that they knew how to follow orders, but bad in that it didn’t help me eliminate anyone who might cause us trouble on our mission.  George had specifically said in his journal that troops who questioned orders all the time were the source of many casualties.

“Turn to your right!”  I waited for all of them to be facing the same direction before continuing.  “If you’re taller than the person in front of you, tap him on the shoulder and move forward!”

They moved faster this time.  Now all the tallest kids were on my left and close to the front.  Once more and they’d all be right where I wanted them.

“Turn to your left!”  They were all facing me again.  “One more time.  If you’re taller than the person in front of you, tap him on the shoulder and move forward!”

When they were finished, I now had the group in size order, from tallest to smallest, from the front left corner to the back right corner.

“Look around at the people on either side of you and behind you.  These people are closest to you in size. 
You …
” I pointed to the largest one of the group standing in the front, the farthest on my left, “… step out.  The rest of you, match yourselves up with one person of equal size and get ready to spar.  Do it now!”

They were moving faster now, giving each other a quick once-over and then nodding to indicate their partnership.  I had four teams standing together, and one odd guy out, looking confused.  He kept glancing at the teams and then at the group of kids who’d already been asked to leave.

I got his attention and motioned for him to join me.  “You’re with me.  The rest of you, get in one long line, one partner on one side of the clearing, the other partner on the other side.  Like this …”

I walked up to my partner and grabbed him by the upper arms, pushing him back forcefully until he was at the edge of the clearing, his back to the group of rejected kids who had moved away until they were nearly in the trees.  They were watching with rapt attention.

I let him go and backed myself up until I was about twenty feet away, and then looked at the other teams.  “Spread out.  Line up with me and …”  I looked at my partner.  “What’s your name?”

“Rob.”

“Other partners, line up with Rob.”  In less than a minute I had two lines of kids, facing off against their teammate.

“The goal in this exercise is to overwhelm your partner.  I’m not looking for any special moves, just natural talent.  I’m going to demonstrate a possible scenario.  Please do what you need to in order to show me your skills.  I know we don’t want anyone hurt, but if you hold back too much, I won’t be able to accurately judge what you can do.”

A couple of the girls looked at each other warily.  Others seemed totally ready for the challenge.  I could’ve probably just eliminate candidates based on that, but decided to hold off until I actually saw them in action.  George’s journal suggested that people who love fighting too much were almost more trouble than they were worth.  He said that rational, thinking warriors were the most valuable - the ones who didn’t rush to violence, but used it when necessary, and only in the amounts needed to neutralize the threat.

I looked at my partner.  “Rob, I need you to attack me.”

He gave me a half-smile.  “Do you have a cup for me to wear?  I’ve heard about you.”

That earned him a few laughs and smile back from me.  “Sorry, dude.  Do what you can to protect yourself.  Pretend I’m a canner and I’m going to eat you for dinner.”

That wiped the smile off his face.

He dropped into a crouched stance that instantly had my back up.  I could see he had good balance already, the way he held himself before he moved.

I got ready, shifting my weight back and forth between my two feet.  He had me by at least eight inches and sixty pounds, maybe more.

It was difficult for me to figure out what his plan was for attack.  He was the kind of fighter who didn’t broadcast much, which was good for him but not so much for me.

I only had about a second to think before he charged me.

I knew protecting his sensitive parts was his goal, since he’d been stupid enough to tell me, so that meant he was going to be wasting a lot of time focusing on that and not enough on taking me down.

A second before he was in range, I realized his plan.  I was going to be his football tackle dummy, and his nuts weren’t going to be anywhere near where my feet could reach.  His tactical error was in lowering himself down to a point that could easily put him off balance.

He hit me like a ton of bricks, but my plan was to let him.  I used the opportunity of having his upper body bent over to grab him in a headlock and gouge his eyes, using the momentum of his own forward movement to bring him down to ground-level.

I twisted my body around and went down with him, but ended up on top instead of under him like he’d probably planned.  I laid across him perpendicularly, using my superior position to slam him in the face a few times with my upper arm and elbow, before twisting around and hammering a fist down into his crotch.

I pushed him away from me as I sat up, and he curled into himself, grabbing for his aching body parts.  I stood up and brushed myself off, re-tightening my ponytail before speaking again.