Chapter Thirty-Five
Pain, In Large Helpings
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My lungs were on fire. Sucking in each breath hurt like hell but I had to get more air in, I needed more oxygen. As I ran, I felt a cool breeze on my face. The only reason it was cool was because of the sweat that covered my face and bare skin. I was barely aware of the pain in my legs anymore, I only concentrated on continuing their repetitive motion, which was the only way I could keep moving otherwise the pain would cripple me.
"Stop!" Fletch's voice called out from the side of the circular track.
I slowed immediately, putting my hands on my knees and gulping in air. I'd been doing timed sprints for nearly an hour now and I was covering a smaller and smaller distance each time. I could barely lift my legs off the ground anymore.
"Hands on your head, Kayli! Open up your lungs."
I moved my hands slowly and rested them on my neck, arching my back to stretch it. I felt like flopping onto the floor and never getting up but the last time I had done that during my break Fletch had said, 'while you're down there, why don't you do some sit-ups?' I learnt my lesson and remained standing during those precious moments where I was still.
"I thought I... was learning... defence," I said hoarsely and swallowed to wet my throat.
He smiled his evil little smirk and I felt my hand clench unconsciously, feeling the need to punch him. He was enjoying himself too much.
"But you are. First rule of defence. If you can't win, run."
"Ugh!" I bent over forward again, letting my arms dangle toward the ground. If I didn't stop soon I would keel over.
"Straighten up!" he barked. I flicked a glare in his direction and strained my body back into a straight line. He glanced at the stopwatch he held in his hand. "Ten seconds until the next sprint. Eight. Seven. Six..."
I gritted my teeth as he counted down and prepared myself for the next dash.
"One. Go!"
I took off and almost tripped over my feet. My legs were closer to jelly than bone and muscle and they were hardly pushing me along. I sucked in deep breaths and slipped into ignorant mode. I wasn't actually running, just keep making the motions. Just for a little longer. Just for a little longer. One leg, than the other. Just for a little longer.
Fletch was dead... as soon as I could catch my breath.
** **
My muscles had been replaced with overcooked, mushy noodles, they shook as I simply stood, but that didn't stop Fletcher from continuing with my 'preparation'. I folded my arms and locked my knees straight to lessen the shaking. He held a rifle in both hands, his right hand on the trigger, pointed at me.
"Get this off me." He watched my eyes and I knew he was looking for them to betray my next move. I kept my sight on his face and watched the gun with my peripheral. Then I lashed out, my left hand gripping the barrel and pushing the point away from my chest. I nearly stumbled and my legs were throbbing even with this easy movement but I managed to stay on my feet. I thrust my right hand up under my left and at the same time knelt down so that the rifle now pointed way above my head.
Fletch roared with laughter. I let go of the gun and sat back onto my heels. "What did I do wrong this time?"
He was laughing in short bursts now, as if he was trying to control it but couldn't. "First off, you didn't disarm me. Secondly, you put yourself into a position closer to my feet were I could just lash out and kick you in the head. Thirdly, what were you going to do next anyway? Kneel in front of your attacker until they say 'Ah, you got me. I can't shoot you without this gun that I could easily rip out of your hands so I surrender'. You have to stay on your feet, move fast and get this gun the hell away from me."
