VOLITION (Perception Trilogy, book 2) (19 page)

She demonstrated the move again, and I copied her.

“Don’t let your arm drop.”

I repeated the motion a couple of times.

“Now, let your punch spring out like it’s a shot of dynamite.”
Her fist snapped out in a punch and then sprung back to its position, protecting
her neck. “Try it.”

It took a while for me to get the snapping, spring action, but when
I got it, I actually felt stronger.

Mary lifted the foam shield to her chest. “Give me your best
shot.”

My strike had improved one hundred percent. I practiced with
both hands, until I was thoroughly sweating.

“Not bad,” she conceded.

“Thanks. But I still don’t know how boxing is going to help me
take on a full-grown man.”

“I’m not teaching you to box. I’m teaching you self-defense.”

I wasn’t sure I knew the difference.

As if reading my mind, she said, “Boxing is a sport and you
usually don’t die from it. Self-defense, if you’re good at it, can be deadly.”

I frowned. As much as I would’ve liked to beat the tar out of
that guy who’d attacked me in the alley, I didn’t want to
kill
him.

“Don’t worry,” Mary said, smirking. “You’ll only kill them if
you want to. Just remember, they started it.”

Her statement made me wonder if she’d ever killed someone. I
didn’t doubt she had the skills to do it.

“Now with kicking, it’s the same principle. You spring your leg
out and back again. That’s where the energy comes from.”

Mary demonstrated a side kick on the bag, the kind where your
body ends up in the shape of a T. She wasn’t a big person, but if the bag were
a man, he wouldn’t have known what hit him.

She proceeded to show me front kicks, back kicks, and
round-house kicks, the ones that swing in from the side.

I tried to copy her, but my legs felt like spaghetti.

“It just takes practice,” she said, and I knew I’d be coming in
to work on these on my own time.

We stopped for a water break, and I wiped sweat off my face
with a small towel.

“Here’s the secret to self-defense,” Mary said. “You have to
fight your natural impulses to pull back.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to step into it, approach the enemy.” She stepped in
front of me. “Pretend you’re attacking me. Reach for my shirt.”

I did as she said. She stepped toward me and raised her left
arm to block my reach.

“See what I did here? I moved toward you. Now I have two
options. Strike the throat, or the solar plexus.” She performed a slow-motion
strike to the spot right under the ribcage, where the muscles didn’t protect.

“Not the groin?” I asked. “I thought that was the usual point
of attack.”

“And guys know that. Groin attacks can be effective, but not
usually on the first strike. A blow to the neck will collapse their esophagus.”

Ouch.

“I strike your solar plexus or esophagus and what will you do?”

“Bend over in agony?”

“Right. Good opportunity to finish it with a karate chop to the
back of the neck.”

Okay. I bend over, and Mary moves one step behind me and comes
down on the back of my neck with the edge of a flattened hand.

The imaginary guy was toast.

“Another move is to use your elbow to strike his kidney.” I
stood so she could slow-motion beat me up again. I grabbed at her, and she
stepped in, blocking my reach with her left arm, and struck the side of my gut
with her elbow. I faked a forward bend in response.

“Then you make a fist and hammer-strike him in his back, same
kidney area.”

She made me practice the front elbow strike and back hammer
punch on the bag, with both arms.

Before too long I was breathing hard with sweat beads sprinkling
from my forehead onto the mat.

“That’s enough to get you going,” Mary said. She grabbed a
towel and headed for the shower. “Practice on your own time and when you want
more, let me know.”

The next day my arms and shoulders felt like heavy weights.
Even the smallest motion was painful. I groaned as I lifted my coffee cup to my
mouth.

“What’s the matter?” Noah said.

“My first work-out with Mary yesterday.”

“Ah,” he said with a knowing look.

Jabez and Mary joined us. Jabez instructed the news to come on.

I stared at the large red banner which read “Breaking News.”

—with political riots in every major city, President Vanderveen
calls for martial law—

“What?” I spit out.

—10:00 curfew…concerns that President Vanderveen has turned the
USA into a police state—

Jabez curled his fists. “Ten p.m. curfew? Damn. The fights are
just getting going by then.”

—President Vanderveen at a press conference where he ensures
the American people that emergency measures are temporary—

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Noah said through tight
lips. “This was his plan all along.”

Mary blanched at the report. I was speechless. Grandpa V had
reached down my throat and clenched my vocal cords.

“The guy’s a maniac,” Jabez said. “People would’ve adapted to
the idea of cyborg technology. He just sprung it on us all at once. Too fast.”

“He’s not after new technology,” Noah said. “He wants war.”

“Why does new technology have to lead to war?” Jabez countered.

“It doesn’t,” Noah said, flicking hair off his face. “Only it
will with this man in charge.”

“It’ll pass,” Mary squeaked out. “We just have to stay out of
sight and out of trouble until it blows over. I’m sure it’s only temporary,
like the President says.”

I wished I could side with Mary on this one, but I knew Noah
was right.

Jabez’s legs jumped and he sprung to a standing position. That
guy was a bag of nerves.

“I’ll be in the gym,” he said.

“I’m coming,” Noah said to his back. He reached for a hair tie
on the coffee table and pulled his hair into a low pony. It was weird that he
was the one with long hair now, and mine was too short for anything but a
barrette.

I for one was glad to take a day off from the gym. I took
Noah’s spot on the couch and lay there, willing the achiness to go away.

The next days were spent with the four of us holing up in the
factory and training in the gym. Mary instructed me on the floor mat while
Jabez and Noah used the ring. Only two weeks until Noah’s next fight, and everyone
was feeling the nerves. Especially with the curfew. Noah’s next opponent was
from the Midwest, so Jabez was able to schedule the fight for earlier in the
evening. Spectators should be out of the factory and home before the
authorities cleared the streets.

“So, a guy comes at you from behind,” Mary said. She wore a
tank top and shorts similar to mine. Her dark skin glistened with sweat from
beating the crap out of the punching bag. Her muscles were toned and defined,
unlike my stick-like limbs. “He wraps his arm around your neck in a choke hold.”
She reaches around my neck to demonstrate and I feel like I’m choking. My hands
automatically grab at her arm.

“No. Again, you have to resist your natural impulses. Don’t
reach for your attackers arm. You will not get free that way. Your immediate
response must be to lift your shoulders up as high as possible to prevent him
from gaining a good grip. This strangle hold from behind is one of the hardest
to break free from and so a quick impulse is important.”

Mary released me, and I rubbed my neck, staring hard at her. I
had a feeling she was enjoying this demonstration a little too much.

“Okay, I’m going to do it again. This time squeeze your
shoulders up.”

She grabbed me from behind, over and over, until a high
shoulder shrug from me was immediate and second nature. “What do I do next?” I asked.

“Whip your right arm up and behind like a windmill, striking
him in the head. Twist your body at the same time. This should at least loosen
the hold. You need every second up front to get loose enough to get your breath
back.

“Then, depending on your stance, you perform your other
strikes. If your back is still to his chest you can use your foot to strike
his. The top of the foot is very sensitive. Don’t forget a left-handed hammer
strike to the groin. This is a good opportunity to shoot for that area since
his arms are high and he’s unable to protect himself there.

“The main thing is to do whatever you can to get your breath
and to get away.”

We ran through the moves several times. I tried not to be
distracted by Noah and Jabez, running through their own paces. Noah had filled
out and grown stronger over the last weeks and I could see the difference in
the contours of his back muscles.

“Okay,” Mary said. “Imagine a guy has you pinned to the
ground.”

I didn’t have to imagine it. I knew what it was like. My pulse
spiked as I remembered the helpless feeling of having a strange man pin me to
the asphalt. I still shuddered at the thought of what could’ve happened.

Mary told me to lie on the mat. I thought she was going to play
the part of the attacker, even though she was smaller and lighter than any guy.
Instead she called Noah over.

“Go on,” Jabez said. “I have to run anyway.” He disappeared
into the shower and Noah approached us. It was difficult keeping my eyes from
dropping to his glistening bare chest.

“Pin her down,” Mary said. She was clueless as to how
uncomfortable this was for both of us. “Come on,” she coached Noah. “She’s just
your cousin.”

Noah obeyed and my heart thumped as he straddled me with his
knees and grasped my arms with his hands. His face was only inches from mine,
faint bruising still visible on his cheeks. His jaw was firmly set, lips
pressed together. My gaze rested on them longingly before settling on his dark,
brooding eyes.

He was as nervous as I was. I could tell by the way his lashes
flickered. The last time we were this close was in a motel room, another life
time ago. Only it was me accosting him while wearing a stupid pink wig.

“Okay, so the guy has you pinned. Chloe?”

I snapped to attention. “Yeah?”

“He might start out with his knees on the outside of your legs,
but he’s going to end up with them in between your legs. If he starts like
this,” she motioned to how Noah’s legs straddled mine, thrust your hips up
sharply. This won’t get rid of him, but it will cause him to lose his balance,
forcing him to loosen hold of your arms.”

I did as she said, and Noah’s torso shifted up.

“Then you can make the next strike. An elbow to the neck, fist
to the crotch or knee to the backside, depending on how his weight shifts. He
should crumble enough so that you can weave your arm between his legs and
shimmy out from underneath. It should give you a chance to get back into an
upright fighting stance. Better yet, he’s down and you can get away.”

I stuck Noah’s jaw in slow motion. His bristles scratched
against my skin, sending shots of electricity through my arm. He feigned pain
shifting sideways and I wormed out from between his legs. It was a lot of close
touching in personal places. I felt my face flush, annoyed that his touch, his
nearness, had this effect on me.

“Okay, again,” Mary instructed. “This time, he has his knees
between your legs, and his hands are around your throat.

I gulped and lay back down on the mat. Noah exhaled deeply,
pinching his eyes shut before following Mary’s orders.

“This is the more likely scenario,” she said. “Your attacker
doesn’t want you to scream out, so he’s trying to force you into submission.
Chloe, since his hands are on your throat, both of your hands are free. Again,
your impulse will be to grab at his hands which will not free you. You only have
seconds to respond before serious damage is done.”

Noah’s warm palms were on my neck, and he locked eyes with me
again, his gaze intense and serious. I couldn’t tell if he was struggling with
our closeness like I was or if he was remembering the horrible time in the
alley.

“Chloe,” Mary said, breaking my wandering thoughts. “Put your
hands together like you’re praying.”

My gaze flew to her face. She was serious. I palmed my hands
together.

“Fish them up between Noah’s arms, putting pressure on his elbows.
This will loosen his grip on your neck. Then reach for his head and pull it to
your chest. At the same time, wrap your legs around his back. Remember what I
told you about moving into your attacker. It’s the same whether you’re standing
or on your back.”

Was she serious? She wanted me to pull Noah’s head to my chest?
And wrap my legs around his body. I gulped again.

“Just do it,” Noah whispered.

I reached for his head and pulled it down, his nose resting
between my breasts, and wrapped my legs around his body. I almost died.

“Move your thumbs to his eyeballs and plunge. You want to do
real damage here, so in a live situation, you don’t hold back.”

I lay the pads of my thumbs on Noah’s eyes. I could feel my
pulse beat rapidly against his lids. He had to feel this, how my heart was
skipping out of control with his nearness. It was excruciatingly hard to hide
it from Mary. Good thing she was all business.

“What’s the attacker going to do?”

“Pull back to save his eyes,” Noah said.

“Yes. Now Chloe, flip him over with your legs until you are on
top. If your attacker still grabs for you, strike his throat. As soon as you
can escape him, run.”

She waited for me to perform the rest of the moves. I flipped
Noah over and now I was on top. He had his arms over his face, but I could see
the vein in his neck pulse. I made a quick jab to his neck, skimming his skin
with my knuckles then jumped off.

“Good,” Mary said, grabbing her towel. “I gotta get going. You guys
can practice without me.”

Noah sat up and I sat beside him, mostly because my knees were
shaking and it was either sit or fall. Noah waved to the mat, indicating that I
should lie down. He resumed his position, knees straddling me, his hands pressing
my arms to the mat.