Chapter 8: Chapter 8 - Training Day

John huffed and puffed down the dirt path. When Donovan had said they were going to start training, he hadn’t told John about the running. John hated running with a passion. He grunted as he leaped over a makeshift pile of sticks that the Durhams had placed on the track to make it more challenging.

The track stretched about half a mile and then looped back into an oval shape. Various obstacles dotted the track to make it harder. He huffed as he jumped over a hurdle.

“Come on, John,” shouted Christian and then muttered a little too loudly, “This boy has got a long way to go.”

“Dad, I saw him fight that vampire at school,” Donovan said as he easily dived under the barbed wire fence they placed right before the finish line. “He’s pretty good.”

“We’ll see. We need soldiers, not slackers.” Christian summoned John off the track. “John,” Christian began, “Donovan says you’re a good fighter. I’ll need to be the judge of that. Donovan, I want you to spar John here.” Christian motioned toward a ring placed between the house and the track.

“Wait a second,” John wheezed. “I need to catch my breath.”

John, Donovan, and Christian walked slowly to a large circle drawn on the ground. John held his side, grateful that they were taking their time. “All right, let’s see what this boy can do,” Sam said as he and Corinne exited the house.

John groaned inside himself. It figures he would have to fight in front of a girl. Of course, he had never thought of Corinne as a girl. She was far too small and didn’t wear even an ounce of make-up!

Donovan entered the circle. John halfheartedly joined him. John bowed from the waist, his eyes still facing his opponent in a traditional Taekwondo bow. Donovan nodded his head and saluted with an arm across his chest. They raised their hands in a guard position.

“Shouldn’t we be wearing sparring pads or something?” John asked.

“You’re a Gifted, now. You’ll find that we don’t feel pain the same way as the non-Gifted. We also heal faster, remember? It won’t be a problem,” Christian answered, “You’ll be fine. It’s only a five-minute round.”

“Stop whining,” Donovan said with a smirk, “Come on, let’s do this.”

John shook his head apprehensively and sized up his opponent. Donovan was tall, athletic, and barely winded from the long run. From the confident way he was holding his guard, it also looked like he knew how to handle himself.

In contrast, John was at least three inches shorter, a little pudgy, and hadn’t even finished the course they had just run. He eyed Donovan warily.

“Go!” Christian shouted.

John tried to impress the Durhams with several well-aimed kicks to the head. John’s black sweat pants blurred as he kept up the attack. Donovan dodged them and answered with a two-fisted strike to John’s chest.

John fell onto his back, his face grimacing in pain. He rolled backwards and thankfully landed on his feet. He stood and re-engaged with three jabs and a cross. Donovan blocked the jabs, but the cross hit him square in the jaw. Donovan’s head snapped backward. Shaking his head, Donovan advanced on John. Donovan sent a sidekick to John’s stomach, followed by several punches to John’s head. John dodged them. He switched his other foot forward and moved to the left side of Donovan. John kicked toward the side of Donovan’s stomach. Donovan grunted hard as the kick found the mark.

“Throw him, Donovan!” Corinne yelled to her brother.

“Hey! I’m the underdog, you know!” John said. He kept trying to find holes in Donovan’s guard, but Donovan was too fast. John finally connected with another solid kick to Donovan’s stomach.

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John was starting to feel like he was getting the hang of this. He was glad his dad had believed that John needed to learn how to defend himself. Taekwondo classes were one of the only constants he had in his life, and he was pretty good at it. He could out-strike most people, but John knew he needed to end this. He was almost out of energy, and Donovan didn’t act like he was even slightly winded.

John threw a sloppy punch. That moment was all Donovan needed. Donovan angled in, blocked the punch, and gripped John’s shirt. Before John could react, Donovan threw John over his hip, and John’s feet saluted the sky as his back thudded the ground. Donovan then struck John square in the face.

“Time!” Christian said, “Good job, son.”

John slowly picked himself up. That had hurt, and he was very tired. But John wasn’t breathing terribly hard. “Wow, I’m not nearly as out of breath as I thought I’d be. Wish I’d had Gifted powers before!" He took another grateful breath. "When do Gifted powers manifest?”

He looked around after he said it, but Donovan, Christian, and Sam were already talking closer to the house. Corinne was still near him, though.

“The powers kick in around puberty,” she said. “That’s when most people know if they’re Gifted.”

John smiled. “Well, I could get used to being a Gifted!” He knew he’d said something wrong immediately after he said it. Corinne studied the ground for a little bit.

“Sorry,” he said.

Corinne looked up and smiled faintly. “Thanks, it’s not something I can change. I’m gonna try to do the best with what I’ve got. I just wish I didn’t have the gene. It’s worse when you have the gene, and it doesn’t manifest. It’s like the Gift is mocking you.”

John gave her a sympathetic smile and was going to say something when Sam, Christian, and Donovan, who had finished their conversation, turned back to John and Corinne.

“Excellent work, old boy,” Sam said to John in a mock British accent and shook John’s hand.

John smiled as he rubbed his shoulder. “I was doing pretty okay until Donovan threw me. That was a cool move!”

Sam smiled. “That’s only because you were out-striking him. If someone is beating you at one aspect of fighting, you should change to something else. Never play someone else’s game. You definitely have the long-range kicking and punching stuff down, at least.”

Corinne smiled. “I’ve never seen Donovan get out-punched and kicked before.”

“He still lost, though,” Christian said. He smiled at Donovan and patted him on the shoulder. “But John here has the makings of a Hunter. I’m thankful we have time before the Assessor comes. We’ll make you ready for the Council,” Christian said.

“When is the Assessor coming?” asked Corinne.

Sam grimaced. “In a couple of months. I had to contact the Council so that they could keep John from getting kicked out of school. And believe me, you don’t want the Council mad at us for not contacting them about the first Ferus our community has seen in forty years. They’re mad enough at us already,” said Sam.

“Useless politicians!” Corinne muttered.

“Okay, first, who’s an Assessor? Second, what’s the Council, and third, why are they mad at us?” John asked. “I definitely don’t want to be on anyone’s naughty list. I’m already on enough of those.”

“The American Council of Hunters was started back in 1786,” Sam began in his best professorial tone. He was one of those who enjoyed talking about history. John and Donovan sighed in unison. Corinne’s eyes lit up. “The Gifted had been working in the colonies for years. We stopped a major outbreak of vampires during the French and Indian War.”

“Hunters also helped win the War for Independence,” added Corinne proudly. Sam shot her a playful look for interrupting. “Our ancestors had a document signed by all the signatories of the Constitution that said we would be permitted to continue to protect the citizens of this country without their interference. This document was called the Charter. The Council was formed specifically to help us coordinate our efforts with the government.”

“That sounds pretty good. So, why don’t they like us?” said John.

“Well, the Council has started applying pressure on the Hunting families to be trained by government-approved agencies.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Christian grunted. “Our families have been Hunting monsters since before there was an America. We’ve always trained our own. It’s a right guaranteed in our Charter. They must honor our traditions. Besides, our family-trained Hunters do just fine without the government.”

Sam scowled. “And you haven’t met the Council yet. The Assessors are even worse. Many of them haven’t even fought a monster, even those in the agencies that are supposed to be training us. They’re a bunch of power-hungry snakes. They cozied up with the government to take cont—” Sam stopped. He breathed in deeply through his nose.

Donovan took the opportunity to change the subject. “Don’t worry. Uncle Sam always gets like this when he talks about the Assessors. Let’s go inside and get some lunch. Next time, you’ll have to see my dad and Uncle Sam spar. They really go at it,” Donovan told John.

“I would love to see it. How about after lunch?” John asked, hopefully.

“Maybe another time. Don’t think you can get out of your afternoon run that easily,” said Christian.

John sagged his shoulders. “I thought I’d give it a shot.” They laughed as they sauntered into the house.

Corinne walked behind them.