The Deathless Trilogy

1.12. Combat Training

"Take off your shoes," Nathan instructs me once he's cracked his knuckles. I look at Phoebe in desperation, but now she's busy doing something on an electronic pad. I'm guessing it's work related based on the furrowed brows, exhaustive sighs, and furious typing.

My eyes are probably screaming in fear, because Nathan half smiles and says, "Just... take off your shoes." He bends down and lifts a box of cushioned gear. "And put these on."

I do as he says for my own protection, and once my knees, elbows, chest, and head are protected, I step onto the mat across from Nathan. He motions for me to step closer, and when I do, he says, "Okay. Now attack me."

I look at Phoebe again, but she's still focused on her electronic pad. "What do you mean? Like... tackle you or...?"

"Try to kick me."

I bite my lip and muster my courage. I try to kick him, but he quickly pushes my leg away. I stumble a bit, my ankle still sore, and try again. "C'mon, Red. Even Kunkle could do better than that and he's pathetic."

Phoebe doesn't intervene, so I kick harder. I told him not to call me Red, and no one calls Declan pathetic.

"That's a little better, but I still don't know why we had to find you. You're nothing special. You're just another survivor who got lucky. You can't help us, and you're not worth our time."

I stop trying to kick him for a moment to catch my breath, since his words, like echoes of old familiar thoughts, have knocked the wind out of me.

I regain my strength and feel my cheeks tingle with anger, just like they did last night, so I crouch down and charge. I ram my shoulder into his stomach, and even though I feel his strong arms trying to push my body off of his, I've already knocked him off his balance. While he stumbles to catch himself, I straighten up, grab his shoulders, and knee him in his crotch. He coughs and falls to the ground.

I want to say something clever and powerful like I did last night, but all I can think to say is, "Don't call me Red."

Phoebe sits up in her chair and finally rests the electronic pad on her lap. I watch her face, waiting for the red marks of anger to fill her cheeks, but she just shifts her focus between me and Nathan. He rolls onto his side, still coughing, and lifts himself from the mat. "I know," he says weakly. "I wanted to make you mad. You were holding back, because you still felt bad about last night."

"I don't feel bad about last night," I lie.

He coughs a bit more, clears his throat, and says, "Yes you do. I know you do, because Dr. Patel told me that your mom started taking her medication today. So you know by now that I helped create the medicine that is saving her life. So you have to feel bad."

"You don't know anything about me, so stop pretending like you do."

Phoebe sits back in her chair and gives me the look. The look Mom gives me after I've spoken out of turn. The look Dad used to give me when I'd argue with him about hunting, the only thing we ever really argued about.

I take a few deep breaths to swallow my pride. "I'm not sorry for what I said. You were being a jerk, and you deserved it. But I am sorry for how I spoke to you last night."

"You're right. I was wrong. I'm sorry." It looks like that physically hurt him to say, but he smiles now that he has. "Dr. Patel made me say that."

I let myself smile and kick him in the shin. He laughs, rubbing his leg, and for a moment, I feel guilty for playing around. His smile is too genuine, and I've become too unfocused. I straighten up and say, "We should get back to training."