Knight

By Richard Jesse

Embark on an epic odyssey with Chase Forrester, an 18 year old boy forced to quickly become a man in a harsh and unforgiving world. Set in a time that could very well be today, in a world rocked by thermonuclear war.
Chases father Jack is a highly trained sniper in the US military, and all he had ever wanted was to be just like him. His father relents, and from a young age trains Chase how to survive in the wild. As he grows older he will also teach him the many secrets of his deadly trade.
After spending eight months in a bomb shelter, Chase will take his first step in the daunting 2600 mile trek from Hartford Alabama to Fairfield Idaho. There he will hopefully find his father waiting for him at their familys cabin on Soldier Mountain.
He wont be making this harrowing journey alone, though. Along the way he will meet a colourful cast of characters; and under tragic circumstances, one very special dog that he will raise from a pup.
In an endless struggle against man, animal, and nature, will Chase have what it takes to survive? To protect the ones he loves?
Take the breathtaking journey, but be prepared to be emotionally exhausted by the time the book reaches its heart wrenching conclusion; one that will leave you wishing that the tale didnt have to end...but at least you will be able to stop holding your breath.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467066693

Richard Jesse

Richard Jesse is the author of his debut novel Knight. His wry sense of humour, passion for adrenaline, and his soft spot for the poignant aspects of life, reveal itself in his writing. He lives in Northern Ontario with his wife, Barbara, their son Chase, and their four-legged adoptive son, Hooch, who is a large, yet friendly Dogue de Bordeaux. He has worked as a conductor on the railway, in construction, and is currently a security guard. Richard enjoys photography and going for hikes with his own loyal companion, Hooch. Look for Richard Jesse on the internet at www.richardjesse.com Questions and comments to: [e-mail]

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my family and friends for all of their encouragement and support. Especially the many times they nagged at me and asked, is your book finished yet? A special thanks to my wife Barbara, for her faith in me and agreeing to spend our money on this project, without having first read my book. A thank you to Sean K. Lueck for creating an amazing website; cruelly forced to use only the powers of his creative genius and my moth eaten wallet. A lion’s share of credit has to go to Shannon Falconi, who edited my work, and must have felt that she was being persecuted for a crime she did not commit.

Lastly, but most certainly not least, I thank you the reader, and hope that you will enjoy your journey with Chase and his very special companion.

A Novel By Richard Jesse

KNIGHT

Great men have great dogs.

~ Otto Von Bismarck

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PART ONE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

PART TWO

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

PART THREE

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

PART FOUR

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

PART FIVE

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

PART SIX

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Epilogue

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PART ONE

SHELTER

[shel-ter] A place giving protection from bad weather or danger.

Chapter 1

No matter how little money and how few possessions you own, having a dog makes you rich.

~ Louis Sabin

Fifteen Minutes Before The Nuclear Holocaust

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! I thought while panicking in bowel loosening fear.

This is an emergency broadcast. All citizens are asked to take cover in your basement, or to proceed to the nearest city shelter!

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Shitty shit shit!

Sixteen year old Chase Forrester was trembling with terror inside his basement, inside an altered bomb shelter. Alone and scared, he fears for his life.

This is not a drill. There is an imminent nuclear attack inbound!

Dad where are you? Please be OK.

This is an emergency broadcast. The impact of a bomb will be felt in less than fifteen minutes.

Dad? I don’t want to be alone.

Chase—Age Nine

Chase looked at his dad, then at his watch, his dad, his watch; trying with all of his brainpower to send his dad a telepathic message.

Yes son. Something on your mind? Jack asked.

I looked up at my dad, and debated the wisdom of speaking my mind. More than anything, I hated it when I disappointed my dad. Weeelll dad…

My dad gave me, The Look. It’s the same look every dad worldwide, seems to have naturally perfected. The one that made every son or daughter feel scared and ashamed at the same time. Don’t whine son! Never whine!

Yes dad.

Jack held, The Look, for a moment longer, and then softened his face, letting his bottomless love for me, his only son shine through. Now, what would you like to tell me Chase?

"Dad it’s ten o’clock. I’m tired and my arms are killing me. Come on dad, I’m only nine." I replied, concentrating hard not to whine.

Besides, why do we even have to build this stupid bomb shelter? All of my friends laugh at me and say you’re crazy.

"Well let’s see son. First of all, no matter how sleepy you get, you will have to train your mind not only to stay awake, but also to be aware of what you are doing, and what is going on around you.

Secondly, there will be times in your life when your body is sore; even more times when your body will hurt. Then you have to use your will power to work past the pain, or even function while being injured.

Jack put down his shovel, sat down on the ground, and patted his knee. He invited me to come and sit on his lap. Once I settled in comfortably, he tenderly wrapped his arms around me and whispered, Son you know your dad is in the army. But what you don’t know is, I’m a sniper…

You mean like the ones in the movie? I inquired, while my eyes widened with a look of deep admiration.

Kind of like the ones in the movies; however, snipers in real life are a lot different. Your dad has to shoot people, killing them and taking away their life. Most of them don’t even know I’m there, watching their every movement. It is hard not to let my job change me, not to see the men I have killed in my dreams, and not to become a ruthless, insensitive animal. Do you want to know a secret?

I nodded sleepily, feeling comfortable and safe in the protective circle of my dad’s arms.

"When I’m away and have to follow my orders, I think of you, how much I love you, and how much I know you love me. It keeps me grounded. It keeps me human. Son, because of my job, I am forced to see just how bad the world really is, and it is only getting worse. Most people don’t even know it because they live in a privileged country, mostly untouched by the cruelty of war.

It’s because I love you, and it’s my job to protect you that we’re building a bomb shelter; just in case war ever rears its ugly head at home. Now do you understand?

Instead of answering yes, I just gave my dad a big tight hug, and nodded my head against the crook of his neck.

Good boy. Now go and take that last pail of sand outside, and then you can go to bed.

Yes dad. I responded obediently. And dad?

Yes son?

I love you dad.

I love you to son. Goodnight.

Chapter 2

A dog wags its tail with its heart.

~ Martin Buxbaum

Ten Minutes Before The Nuclear Holocaust

"T his is an emergency broadcast. There is an imminent nuclear attack inbound! "

OK, what would my dad do right now? I asked to no one but myself.

He would close his eyes and think of me.

This is not a drill. The impact of a bomb will be felt in less than ten minutes.

While closing my eyes, I pictured my dad in my mind, and hoped like hell, the bomb shelter we made will protect me. I hoped even harder that my dad is somewhere safe.

Chase—Age 10

Come on sleepy head, get out of bed! We’re going to finish the shelter today. Jack yelled up the stairs.

"Awww daaad, it’s my birthday today!"

Stop complaining! Get dressed, and meet me in the basement!

"Yes dad."

It was never a good idea to keep my dad waiting; he can get so impatient! Once that happened, it seemed to take forever for him to get back into a good mood. I quickly threw on a t-shirt and my favourite pants, authentic jungle combat trousers. I flew down the stairs and barely touched every third one.

Jumping from the fifth stair onto the basement floor, I lost my balance, and crashed head first into my dad’s stomach.

Ouch!

It felt like I had run into the bomb shelter’s steel submarine door. My dad’s in really good shape! I don’t even think he felt me hit him!

OK, now open the door, get in there, and get to work!

I grabbed the big wheel in the center of the door, turned it three times, and pulled.

The first thing I noticed when I got the door open was that my dad had finished the rest of the work by himself. However, what really stood out was the long, rectangular, plain cardboard box with a bow on it, lying in the middle of the floor.

"Thanks dad! Not only do I not have to do any work, but also you got me a present for my birthday! Can I open it now, pleeease?"

"In one minute son, now that the shelter is finished I have something important to tell you. If I am ever away on a mission and there is an alert on the TV, radio, or if someone calls from the army, I want you to get immediately into our shelter, seal, and lock the door! No matter what you hear, or how scared and lonely you get, you stay in the shelter, and do not open the door for any reason! You will have enough food and water to last about eight months. I want you to stay in the shelter until ALL of the food and water is gone. You understand me?"

Yes dad, but…

"NO BUTS! I have purposely moved us to a low priority target area, so the worst you should ever have to worry about is a shockwave. Even still, you WILL stay in the shelter until your supplies run out. That way if there is any fallout, it will have time to settle. Don’t worry son, starting today, and every chance we get, I am going to teach you everything you will need to know to survive on your own. Have I made myself clear?"

Yes dad, you have, but please don’t be away if anything happens.

I’ll try my best son, but if I’m not with you, and something happens, we’ll meet each other at our cabin in the mountains.

"Holy crap dad, it takes us four days just to drive there, and another full of day hiking up the mountain! How am I supposed to get there on my own?"

Jack replied tenderly, Hopefully you will never have to worry about it.

Then with iron conviction, Jack explained how he expects Chase to reach the cabin. "If the day should ever come son, you just keep putting one foot in front of the other until you get there, and you don’t let anything stand in your way. Now hurry up and open your gift!"

Chapter 3

Money will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won’t buy the wag of his tail.

~ Josh Billings

Five Minutes Before The Nuclear Holocaust

"T his is an emergency broadcast. All citizens are asked to take cover in your basement, or to proceed to the nearest city shelter! "

I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut. This is just great! A nuke is about to go off, it may be the end of humanity as we know it, and I can’t remember the last time I told my dad I loved him.

I opened my eyes and looked around the twelve by twenty four foot bomb shelter, which my dad and I had built together. While I’m sitting on one of the two folding army cots, I looked around my tiny prison. I started at the airtight submarine door, and then circled to the left. There was the other cot my father would have been using if he had been here. Stacked next to it there was enough food and water to last for eight months.

Across from the food, and next to me, are outdoor supplies; including a Gregory Palisade 80 Backpack with an eighty-eight litre carrying capacity. Already loaded in the pack are; a compass, a small first aid kit, water purification pills, fishing line and hooks, topographical maps of the areas needed to get to the cabin, a sewing kit, five days worth of MRE’s. Also packed are flint and steel for starting a fire, and a spare change of clothing. Attached to the outside of the pack were; a hatchet, a MEC Hybrid sleeping bag rated for minus twenty, a canteen, and a hundred and twenty feet of Millet Sliver Triaxiale climbing rope.

This is not a drill. The impact of a bomb will be felt in less than five minutes!

Along the back wall was where all the weapons were stored. Starting from the corner, there were two USMC Ka-Bar combat knives with seven-inch Parkerized blades. Next to the knives was a compact ammo reloading kit with boxes of shells, powder, and bullet tips. Three other important items were bolt-action rifles, two of which were US Army M24 sniper rifles. The remaining rifle is the first one I had ever owned; it was a birthday gift from my dad when I had turned ten. I began to reminisce and feel overwhelmed by feelings of nostalgia.

Chase—Age 10

Now hurry up and open your gift! Jack exclaimed with a big grin plastered on his face.

I didn’t waste any more time, or wait for a second invitation. I ran to the box, tore the top off, and looked inside. Nestled in foam was a brand new .22 calibre bolt-action rifle, complete with a scope. I just stared at it; it was all I could manage at the time. It was my first gun and it was beautiful!

My dad, using his military voice, gave me a weapons briefing. "It’s a Cooper 57M Classic; it has a black walnut stock and a premium match grade barrel. I have already attached a Leupold 36x scope, and sighted it in for fifty yards. However, by the time you are ready for a new rifle, I will have trained you to shoot much further than that.

The next rifle I will train you on will be the one I currently use in the army. It’s a U.S. Army M24 SWS .308 bolt-action sniper rifle. It features a five round internal magazine, and an HS Precision adjustable stock. You will be aiming through a 10x42 Leupold Ultra M3A telescope sight, with Mil-Dots. By the time I’m done training you on using the M24, you’ll be able to shoot over eight hundred and seventy five yards, just like your old man.

"Wow Dad! I don’t know what to say! Except, can we go and shoot it right now? Pleeease?"

Jack smiled, looking almost as excited as his son did. Pick up your rifle and get in the truck. Well, what are you waiting for?

We piled into the truck and drove to the local shooting club, where my dad holds all of the records. He has never cared much about the records, but it seemed to make the other member’s proud to be in the same club.

As we came to a stop in the parking lot of The Hartford Shooting Range, I took my rifle and my dad grabbed the ammunition.

Chase, today I’m going to teach you how to hold your rifle, and the five main firing positions. Don’t worry about how well you shoot today; your accuracy will only get better with practice.

Sitting outside the office in an old beat up rocker, was the equally old, and beat up owner, Bob.

Mornin’, Jack. Bob drawled, with a voice that sounded like gravel grating against sandpaper. It’s gotta be your son’s tenth birthday today, cause normally I never see a smile that big, crack that ugly mug of yours.

You’re one to talk Bob; when parents use the bogeymen to frighten their children into behaving, it’s you the children see.

Bob frowned and scrunched up his face, making it look like a jar of squashed prunes. He then broke into a big, gapped toothed grin. "Chase it’s too bad you look like the spittin image of your pa. You have the same black curly hair, worn military short of course. The same sky blue eyes and a hard square face that looks like chiselled granite.

Oh well, it could be worse, you could have been a twin. All kidding aside, it’s good to see both of you again. I’ve reserved the last lane on end for you two today, and the two lanes next to it. You will have plenty of privacy today.

Thanks Bob. Come on Chase, let’s go.

Once we got to the last lane, my dad turned to me and started my first lesson on how to shoot. The first thing you need to learn son, is your natural point of aim. Now hold your rifle, and aim at the target I have set at fifty yards.

I do as he says, Now what dad?

Close your eyes for two seconds, and then open them again.

Again, I do as my dad instructed and when I opened my eyes; my aim is waaay off target. What happened dad?

You are no longer lined up on your target. It’s because originally the target wasn’t at your natural point of aim. You’re fighting it. Now shift your body just slightly back towards the target, and try again.

I move my body and aim again, but this time when I opened my eyes, my sight is almost perfect! Wow, cool dad! What’s next? Can I shoot now?

Hang on, Hang on. Hold your rifle up again. Now do you feel exactly where your rifle and your right thumb are resting against your cheek? OK, don’t move for five minutes and memorize where the rifle and your thumb are resting against your cheek. From now on every single time you pick up your rifle, you will be holding it in precisely the same position. This is called the spot weld.

After about three minutes, my arms started to shake and shudder as they did after my dad made me do a whole bunch of push-ups.

Dad my arms are starting to get shaky, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it up.

Chase this is very important, don’t give up yet. Jack encouraged.

OK, now you can rest for five minutes, and then you can take your first shot in the standing position.

OK dad I’m ready. I responded confidently as I lifted my rifle and executed a spot weld.

"Now relax every muscle you can, and take slow deep breaths. Watch how the sights rise as you inhale and sink as you exhale. As you exhale and your sights start to sink towards your target, slowly and smoothly squeeze the trigger.

Go ahead son, take your first shot.

Doing everything my dad has told me, I pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Overwhelmed with feelings of disappointment and embarrassment, I lowered my gaze and uttered quietly Sorry dad, I missed the bull’s eye.

I felt terrible, as if I let my dad down. I looked over at him, and instead of seeing the expected frown, my father has a big smirk on his face.

Are you kidding son? It was your first shot ever and you hit the eight-point ring. You’re a natural, just like your old man! Take another shot. Let’s see how consistent you are!

Feeling relieved by my father’s praise, my embarrassment quickly dissolved. I am eager now to keep shooting. I spot weld the rifle to my cheek, relaxed my muscles, took a couple of slow deep breaths, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

I looked over at my dad; he has an even bigger smile now.

"Well done Chase, well done! Your shot went into the eight-point ring again, but this time it was closer to the nine-point ring. With my help, and lots of practice, you will be an excellent marksman.

I’m proud of you son.

This felt like the best moment, of the greatest day of my life.

Thanks dad, for everything!

You’re welcome son, happy birthday. Let me show you the other four shooting positions; the kneeling, squatting, sitting and the prone. Then you can practice until you can’t feel your shoulder anymore.

That sounds awesome dad! And dad…

Yes son?

I love you dad. I gave my dad the biggest, tightest hug ever!

I love you too son

Chapter 4

Sometimes, only your dog will be happy to see you.

~ Richard Jesse

Two Minutes Before The Nuclear Holocaust

"T his is an emergency broadcast. All citizens are asked to take cover in your basement, or to proceed to the nearest city shelter! "

Dad was right. Thinking about someone you really loved, did take away the fear.

This is not a drill. The impact of a bomb will be felt in less than two minutes!

Still looking at the rifles on the back wall, I remembered all of the late nights I had spent with my dad at the kitchen table, making our own ammo for the rifles. Dad would be drinking coffee, which was his only bad habit, and I would have a hot chocolate.

Glancing around the room, my eyes focused again upon the survival equipment. It reminded me of when I was twelve, and we went on a wilderness survival trip. We brought only two Ka-Bar combat knives, and two pieces of flint and steel. It was hard, but fun at the same time. By the end of the week, I loved and respected my dad even more than I ever had before.

I especially remembered when we were four days into the trip and…

Chase—Age 12

I’m really proud of you Chase; you’ve been doing very well! A lot of adults would have quit by now, and you haven’t even complained once. Jack praised his son.

We were sitting beneath a lean-to shelter; in front of a roaring fire, that dad had taught me to light, using only flint and steel.

Thanks dad. It’s been tough, but boy am I having fun! Can we do this again next year please?

We can do this every year if you want; we will make it our own family tradition. How does that sound? Jack replied, feeling proud of his son.

That sounds awesome dad! What are you going to teach me next?

"Well let’s see. I have already shown you how to make a shelter from just about anything and how to start a fire, which you have mastered now. You now know which plants you can eat, and which ones you can use for medicine. We have already snared small game animals, and caught fish using only line and hooks.

I could teach you how to build some different kinds of traps, ones that would be effective against bigger game. I was taught how to use them against humans in sniper survival school, but they would work just as well for protecting your campsite from bears and other predatory animals while you are sleeping.

I could not help but to look in awe at my dad. Wow dad that would be really cool!

"OK the first one is called a punji pit. It’s where you dig a square hole in the ground, and line the bottom with sharpened stakes. You can construct it in two sizes; either seven feet by seven feet, which would have a chance of causing a fatal injury, or it can be made of two feet by two feet, which when stepped into, could incapacitate.

Another deadly trap is called the bamboo whip, but instead of using bamboo, you would use a small evergreen or any other sapling about six to ten feet long. Bend back the tree so that when released, it will spring sideways into the body. For maximum effect, tie sharpened stakes along the length of the tree. Come on let’s make the whip together and call it a day.

Chapter 5

It has been 20,000 years since man and dog formed their partnership.

~ Donald McCaig

One Minute Before The Nuclear Holocaust

Well it won’t be long now.

I wonder where my dad is.

I hope he’s OK.

I then noticed something was different. The radio was airing nothing but static, and there was a quiet low rumbling, as if someone’s bass was adjusted to a window shattering level.

Oh Shit. I whispered.

Gradually the rumbling grew louder and louder, until it sounded like a freight train was going to run straight through the shelter!

The room started to shake violently!

The solar powered lights dimmed, flickered, and then went out all together.

It’s happened! A nuclear warhead has gone off. I don’t know how close it was, or if I am the only person left alive. To make things even worse, I am stuck in here alone, for eight months.

Getting down on my hands and knees, I felt my way through blackness so deep, the blind had an advantage over me. Groping along, I headed towards the radio; its static now makes me want to yank out each fingernail with a pair of pliers. I finally located it and shut it off. Now not only is it pitch black, but the silence threatened to deafen me as well.

I started to get frantic, searching desperately for an item that would save my sanity. Finally, I found what I had been looking for! A hand powered lantern. Quickly cranking it, I pushed back the darkness.

"There that’s better! At least I can see my prison clearly now. Yay for me!"

I sure am missing you right now dad; you’ve always been there for me, and now I’m alone. I remember when I was fourteen, and came home from school with a black eye…

Chase—Age 14

I sneaked in through the back door of my house. Making no sound whatsoever, I crept through the kitchen and down the hall towards my bedroom.

How was school son? Jack asked, suddenly appearing behind me.

Ahhh! I jumped about three feet in the air. "How dooo you do that dad? You just about made me crap my pants!"

I asked you a question Chase, how was school today? Jack repeated.

It was OK dad.

With one eyebrow raised, staring down at me, my father asked, Really, is that so? Then you won’t mind explaining to me why your eye looks like the rainbow that leads to a pot of gold.

Weeell I stammered, trying to stall.

Losing patience now, Jack gave me, The Look. I asked you a question, and I expect an answer!

It wasn’t my fault dad! I was walking home after school, and saw some high school kids picking on the retarded paper boy.

CHASE!

"Sorry dad, the mentally challenged paper boy. Well, I just couldn’t keep on walking by, so I told them to leave him alone. They left him alone all right dad, and the three of them rushed me! They asked me what I was going to do about it, and when I ignored them, they said I was a wimp, just like my dad. That’s when I lost it! They shouldn’t have insulted you dad! I got so mad, I charged straight at them, but they knocked me down right away."

"I’m proud of you son. Not for fighting, but for the reasons you chose to fight. They knocked you down that time, but next time they will not find it so easy. Starting right now, I am going to teach you how to fight.

"I have one rule about fighting. I call it the four F’s. Hit first, with force and finish it fast. When you fight, it’s not about fair play, or by fighting by stupid rules, like in boxing. It’s about being the only one standing, and ending it as quickly as possible. You don’t ever wait for someone else to throw the first punch, or to stand back up. You have to keep on taking ground, using excessive force, until no potential threats are left.

"When you fight son, always use your environment and the objects in your environment, to your advantage.

"OK, one more tip, and then I’ll show you a couple of moves. It doesn’t matter what weapon you happen to be using; fists, knives, or guns. Always try to position yourself so the sun is in your opponent’s eyes. When I use my rifle, I make sure the sun won’t flash off my scope, alerting my enemies. When you’re in close combat, the sun in an opponent’s eyes can grant you valuable seconds before they react.

Got all that?

It sounds pretty serious dad, but yeah I got it. I had paid very close attention, because when my dad was in his military instructor mode, he did NOT like to repeat himself!

"Fighting is serious son! Alright then, starting tonight we’ll spend half an hour together, teaching you some of what I was taught in the Special Forces."

The next day after school, I decided to take a different route home. I’m no coward, but dad did tell me that unless I had a good reason, it’s better to avoid a fight. It didn’t make a difference, because when I got to my street the three high school bullies were there waiting for me.

Oh loooky here boys, it’s the wimpy army brat! The kid in the middle said in a taunting manner. He was obviously their leader. He had to have been six feet tall, and if his arms were any longer, his knuckles would have been dragging on the ground. He probably had repeated grade ten at least four times. He had more hair on his face, than my dad had on the top of his head. All and all, he reminded me of the cave men we studied about in school.

The two on either side weren’t nearly as big, but they had a mean glint in their eyes. The kind of look that told you they really enjoyed pulling the tails off cats, or maybe eating dead babies for breakfast.

I tried to ignore them and just kept walking. My house was near the end of the street, and I was nearly there. Unfortunately the leader’s house was at the beginning of the street, which is probably why I didn’t stand much of a chance getting home unnoticed.

Hey wimp, I’m talking to you!

I said nothing, didn’t look at them, and just kept walking. I knew deep down this was going to turn ugly, and I could feel the adrenaline starting to flood my muscles.

As I got closer, Mr. Caveman rushed in and shoved me down. While I’m lying there on the hot pavement, staring at the serene blue sky, the other two came up to stand on either side of me.

Well there was no avoiding it now; I was going to have to fight! I stood up, and slowly circled to the left until all three of them were squinting from the sun. Their beady little crow’s eyes now mostly hid behind fleshly drapes.

Then I unleashed!

With everything I had, I whipped my school bag into their leader’s face! It didn’t do any real damage, but it stunned him just long enough to allow me to move onto the kid on his left. I lined up and gave him a full forced football kickoff to his nut sack! He doubled over, sounding like one of the chipmunks, Alvin maybe. I quickly turned towards the third bully, who was actually starting to react, but only like a deaf sprinter who didn’t hear the starter pistol. He only started moving because he noticed everyone else was. I stepped in close, and punched him in the throat!

Moving back to the leader, I kicked downwards into the side of his knee. I was surprised to find myself oddly pleased when I heard a loud CRACK! He screamed like a little girl, and dropped like a sack of hammers, out of the fight for good. Still bent over in agony, the bully on the left had stopped sounding like Alvin. I grabbed him by the back of his head and politely introduced him to my knee. He is out colder than a slab of slaughterhouse beef.

I turned to face the third kid, and noticed he was still having trouble drawing breath. It took him about two seconds to think it over. He turned and ran, leaving his friends behind.

It’s over.

Holy shit!

I just took out three teenagers who were way bigger than I was, and in less than two minutes!

I knelt down next to the whimpering leader and whispered threateningly into his ear, I don’t want to have this discussion again. You leave me, and the paperboy alone!

Chapter 6

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.

~ Roger Caras

One Week After The Nuclear Holocaust

The hand-powered lantern went out again, for the hundred and seventy-fifth time, but who’s counting?

Piss on it, there’s nothing to see here anyway! I spat in frustration.

"Well what’s on the menu tonight? Let me see, cold canned corn, cold canned beans, or cold canned stew.

"Screw it! I’m living large tonight! I am going to have cold can stew, aaand cold can beans. For desert I’m going to treat myself to… some cold canned corn!"

Suddenly, after a week of almost constant darkness, the overhead lights flickered back to life.

Yes! The solar panels must be working again! Oh ho ho, hot food tonight!

On the way to the food shelf, my eyes landed on the radio. Should I turn it on? Is it better to not know and have hope, or should I turn it on and chance the possibility of being disappointed?

I go over, turn on the radio and hear…

Static!

I went through the entire length of the dial, and then went through it again.

Damn, there was nothing but static! Oh well, I’m a little disappointed, but I had rather expected it.

The next few months passed in a kind of monotonous blur that nearly turned me into a drooling village idiot. I tried to keep my mind busy, but my options for entertainment in a twelve by twenty-four foot cell, was on the limited side.

To stay occupied, and semi sane, I tried to keep myself in shape; actually, I had never been in better shape than I was now! I would do push-ups until my shoulders burned, and sit-ups until my stomach threatened to rid itself of its meagre contents. I ran in place, while sweat poured off my body like a hot sticky rain shower. I would keep running until cramps in both my legs dropped me to the cool floor, where I panted and gasped for breath.

For variety, on every other day, I would set up the lantern behind me and fight against my own shadow on the wall, trying hard to beat my own dark image’s reflexes.

One day while I was sharpening my Ka-Bar combat knife, watching the already razor sharp edge getting even sharper, I remembered watching my dad do the exact same thing, a little over a year ago…

Chase—Age 15

I sat there watching my dad hone his Ka-Bar, mesmerized by the steady sound of the whetstone, while it rasped down the gleaming seven-inch length of deadly steel.

Dad?

Yes son?

Have you ever had to use that knife, you know, against someone? I asked with a mixture of trepidation and awe. Kind of like how you feel when driving by the scene of a car accident; you don’t want to look in case you see something you wished you later hadn’t, but you just couldn’t stop yourself.

My dad just stared soberly at me for what felt like hours, but in reality was only for a few moments. "There have been a few times I’ve been forced to use it. When you use knives, it is nothing like fist fighting. If you make one mistake, you usually won’t get a chance to make a second.

Emotionally, it’s very difficult to live with afterward. You usually end up covered in blood, and watching the life fade from your enemy’s eyes. But it can also be a very quick and quiet way to defeat an enemy, without alerting anyone else.

After hearing what my dad had to say, I hesitated a long moment before I could work up enough nut to ask my next question. Will you teach me?

Even after everything I had just said, you’re still interested? For heaven’s sake Chase! Why?

There is only one reason dad. As much as it’s possible, I paused, looking directly into my father’s eyes, and softly finished, I want to be like you dad.

There must have been something in my dad’s eye, because he suddenly had to look away, wiping at his eyes.

All right Chase, go grab a couple of the large wooden mixing spoons, and I’ll teach you some things taught to me by a U.S. Marine instructor.

I didn’t waste any time, instantly darting to the kitchen and back!

Here you go dad!

"The first thing you need to learn is the proper way to grip your knife. It’s called the hammer grip. You hold the knife tightly in your fist, but you have to keep your wrist flexible like when using a hammer or hatchet. Holding it this way will let you lock your wrist when needed, and make it very difficult for someone to knock it out of your hand. Using the hammer grip will allow you to punch with the knife in your hand, or use the pommel to deliver deadly butt strikes.

Another advantage to the hammer grip is that it provides immense penetration force, allowing your blade to easily slice through the thickest clothing. You can also vary your attacks with thrusts, chops, or slashes.

I tried to imitate my dad. Like this?

Yeah, that’s good son, but try and grip it even tighter, and keep your wrist a little looser. There you go, that’s perfect! OK, now this is how you position yourself. It’s called the fencers stance, which will allow you to move fluidly in any direction. I want you to learn to hide behind your knife. What I mean is, try to keep your knife pointed between you and your enemy. This way you can either attack, or block and parry any attacks your opponent may make. Now you try it.

With confidence, I absorbed my dad’s detailed instructions.

"That’s good, but slide your left leg out a little further, and hold your free hand straight up, covering your heart. That way if you are fighting against someone else with a knife, and they get through your defences, your heart, and your throat, will be safe. Remember, your free hand isn’t just a lump of meat. It should block, punch, grab, or throw things to distract your enemy.

"The last thing you need to know is that you don’t always have to go for an instant kill. The more you cut your enemy, the more you will make him bleed; therefore, the weaker he will become. So cut him anywhere and as often as you can.

Let’s practice together for a while, so I can show you what you’re doing wrong; then you can practice on your own, for as much as you want. The more time and effort you put into practicing, the better you will become.

Yeah, I get it. Hey dad? I questioned with