Jason Willow: Face Your Demons
Page 26
They didn’t go back through the church but retraced Jason’s first tour of the abbey by cutting through the garages, brushing passed a spectacular silver Aston Martin on the way, out across the still baking cloister, in through the office-filled chapter house where the pretty blonde woman smiled at him again, across the cool small garden and then away from the church door and into white corridor he’d seen earlier.
‘Now, this is the infirmary corridor,’ Myers explained, ‘for the sick and injured to take their constitutional walks. The monks showed a little softness here as you can see – white and warm to help the healing. Come on, I’ll show you the training rooms.’
They turned left towards a small door some fifty metres away. This one was inlaid with a small red cross. Jason felt chilled despite the bright sunlight. It was as if he was trapped in a labyrinthine mausoleum.
‘I’ll leave you here, Jason,’ Myers said, ‘I find all that sweating and exertion somewhat unpalatable. Just knock twice, open the door and wait to be invited in by the master in charge. Have fun,’ he winked, turned on his heel and strode back down the corridor. In his black coat-tails he was like a bat trying to escape the shafts of sunlight.
And then Jason was alone, in front of the dark door with the white marble corridor blazing brightly all around him.
Chapter 16
Jason did what Myers had told him to do - knocked twice, opened the door and waited.
He was staring between two pillars into a huge white marble hall brightly sun lit through long, narrow windows stretching up into gothic arches high above.
Two pairs of blue clad students were sparring in half time on thin floor mats. They didn’t break their concentration to even glance at the new arrival.
Suddenly Cadaveril strode into his restricted view from between the pillars. The chauffer was wearing black sparring trousers and jacket tied with a white sash cord. He totally ignored Jason and paced around the students, taking in every strike and block and hissing curt instructions and corrections. Every so often Cadaveril threw in a punch or kick of his own which the student had to fend off as well as defend against their opponent.
Great, Jason thought, Skeletor also just happens to be some sort of Jakra master.
Accepting that he was going to be kept waiting, Jason focussed on the students’ techniques and the hints Cadaveril was giving them. The four students all looked a little older than him, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties. There were three boys and a girl.
The girl, perhaps about nineteen or twenty, was stocky and had brown hair tied back in a bun. She was fighting a spikey haired youth of perhaps eighteen. They were both very good but she seemed to be controlling the sparring.
The other pair looked like brothers with the same thin noses and lank, straw coloured hair although one was clearly a couple of years older than the other. Jason thought he could give all of them a run for their money but the girl and boy pair would be especially tough despite all the progress he’d made with Eddie’s training.
Suddenly he noticed Cadaveril staring at him. He straightened up and gave the respect sign - right fist enclosed in left hand with a slight bow, eyes up.
Cadaveril returned it, his fist flashing into the open palm and leaving it just as quickly. Then he stopped the sparring with a word and beckoned Jason into the hall.
Jason stepped out from between the two columns and the huge training hall opened up around him bringing with it the smell of fresh sweat.
The room stretched for perhaps fifty metres to either side. Three large squares were marked out on the matted floor and all around the room hung the usual dojo paraphernalia of punch bags and balls, blocking posts and climbing ropes. However, there were also racks of wooden weapons – staffs, bo-sticks, wide bladed Chinese swords, Katanas, long-knives and even shurikens.
More intriguing than all of this were two mock buildings - one at either end of the hall.
‘Hurry it up, lad – from all we’ve ‘erd about you, you must’ve seen a training ‘all before,’ Cadaveril said, his London East-End accent echoing around the vast spaces.
‘Sorry,’ Jason said, stooping down to take off his trainers.
‘Leave ‘em on – ain’t you got eyes? We’ve all got shoes on’
‘Right,’ Jason said, re-tying his laces and jogging over to Cadaveril.
‘When you’re being attacked by an ‘undred bloodthirsty Brevren you ain’t got no time to take your shoes off, ‘ave you? You’ve got to get used to the weight of ‘em and know how much they hurt if you let a kick through.’
‘Of course,’ Jason agreed. He noticed the spikey haired student sneering at him.
‘And you call us instructors – Master,’ Cadaveril added.
‘Of course, Master,’ Jason said, keeping his voice level.
Cadaveril stared at Jason for a few moments, a slight smile jerking one corner of his thin lips into his pale, parchment-like skin.
Finally he turned to the others. ‘This is Jason Willow – ‘e’ll be joining us… for a bit. I’m sure you’ve all ‘erd the gossip – Mr Brash ‘as big plans for him if we can train ‘im up right.’
The students all turned to face Jason. The young woman smiled, the brothers nodded and spikey-hair just stared at him with an impassive expression.
‘Hello.’ said Jason, immediately feeling stupid for opening his mouth.
‘Friendly, ain’t ya?’ Cadaveril’s one sided smile twitched tighter still. Jason thought his face might tear. ‘These will be your little playmates for this afternoon - Anna Smith, Carl Slattery, Marshal and Mark Martin. Marshal’s the older one but just as fick.’
Jason nodded to them but stayed quiet this time.
‘Just two rules here, Willow,’ Cadaveril continued, still with his lop-sided smile. ‘Do everything a master tells you and be ready for anything. You got it?’
‘Yes, Master,’ Jason answered.
‘Are you warmed up?’
‘No Master, not yet.’
‘Good.’ Cadaveril half smiled again. ‘You won’t get time to stretch out when they jump you in the alleyways or mountains of Romania. Learn to stretch out while you fight. Now, we’ll start you at half speed with the younger Martin boy - the rest of you watch and learn Willow’s weaknesses and strengths. Positions - go.’
Mark Martin trotted to the centre of the mat while the other three darted off to kneel at the edges. Jason quickly joined his opponent. Mark’s face was unreadable but his eyes stared into Jason’s. Jason raised his eyebrows once then dropped his gaze to focus on Mark’s chest where his peripheral vision could detect every movement of legs, arms and head. His heart began to beat faster and he rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers to loosen up.
‘Half speed sparring - go’
Mark launched into a fairly fluid attack sequence of low kicks, punches and knife-hand strikes. Jason defended against them comfortably. He’d been doing this since he was four years old. He quickly picked up on Mark’s tells – the tiny physical hints of an opponent’s next move. One of the most obvious was that Mark always tilted his head slightly before side kicking.
Mark picked up the speed a little but Jason still blocked every strike easily then started some basic attacks of his own. Mark began to tense up and his defence started to rely on moving slightly faster than Jason’s half speed attacks.
Jason stepped back, intending to draw Mark in then counter when suddenly his back leg was kicked from under him and he sank to the ground.
‘Full speed - go’ Cadaveril shouted, stepping back from sweeping Jason’s leg from behind. Mark leapt forward lifting one leg high to smash down on Jason’s stomach.
Jason deflected Mark’s foot to the side of his body, rolled into the back of his knee and brought him crashing forward onto the mat. In an instant, Jason was on Mark’s back holding one ankle in a painful lock.
‘Lock on,’ Jason said, calming his breathing.
‘Marshal, full contact - Go,’ Cadaveril shouted.
‘Constant vigilance, boy – ready for anything I said,’ Cadaveril sneered over him as Marshal arrived and stamped at his knee cap.
Jason only just twisted in time to avoid the full weight of Marshal’s stamp but it still caught him a glancing blow.
Jason rolled and twisted around the mat trying to get to his feet but Marshal kept up with him, kicking at his legs and torso. Jason’s movements absorbed the force of the blows but he couldn’t gain enough distance to stand up.
He changed tactics, blocked a stamp with one leg and kicked the back of Marshal’s knee with his other. Marshal went down and instantly Jason was on his back and locking up his right arm.
‘Lock o…’ Jason began, breathing hard.
‘Smith, full contact. Go,’ Cadaveril cut across him.
Anna Smith rose from the mat-side and trotted calmly in to the centre. Jason stood up, stepped backwards and blocked a trip kick from Cadaveril. It was like stopping a demolition ball but at least he was on his feet when Anna licked out her first half dozen punches.
She was fast, strong and very well coordinated, easily sequencing full speed flat-hand strikes, low kicks and elbow and knee attacks into her fluid fighting rhythm. Jason blocked most of it, but caught a numbing jab to his right shoulder and a couple of only half-turned kicks to his legs.
It was hard to focus completely on Anna knowing Cadaveril was dogging his every step and likely to kick, trip or pull him at any moment. She was too good for half his concentration however, and Jason put more strength and speed into his counter attacks desperately trying to find a weak spot. She was slightly slower moving than he was and he managed to slip three body punches through in a couple of minutes by blocking and side-stepping. They were solid hits but her counter attacks came on instantly and caught him twice.
Jason was breathing hard now. He’d been fighting solidly for perhaps five minutes. His guard dropped for just a moment and Anna snaked through a palm strike to his forehead.
Jason reeled backwards but as Anna stepped in to finish him he lashed out a basic front kick into her stomach. She doubled over and Jason chopped her neck at quarter strength.
As she dropped to her knees a hammer blow from Cadaveril hit him in the small of his back and he flew over her and fell sprawling onto the floor, winded.
‘Slattery, full contact. Go.’ Cadaveril shouted, stepping away from Jason.
Instantly, fourteen stone of muscle and bone sprinted towards Jason as he scrambled to his feet, trying hard to take in a full breath. Carl kicked him straight through his hasty block and Jason staggered backwards. Somehow he stayed on his feet to defend against a storm of rock-hard, relentless kicks and punches, giving him no chance to counter.
He survived for perhaps half a minute before some of the blows started getting through. Cadaveril kept stepping in from behind and slapping the side of his head as he desperately tried to avoid everything being thrown at him.
Carl managed to catch his nose and Jason’s vision split into a million speckles of light. Through the starry veil he could just make out Carl taking the opportunity to pull his arm back for the finishing blow. Jason lashed out a snap-kick at Carl’s knee cap.
Carl jerked down as his knee buckled and an instant later Cadaveril slipped in between them to simultaneously kick Carl and flat palm Jason’s chest. Both students flew away from each other and sprawled out flat on the wooden floor.
‘Time.’ Cadaveril spat out. Jason heaved himself to his knees and faced the master. He glanced across at Carl who knelt facing Cadaveril, heavily favouring the knee Jason had just kicked.
‘Aagh,’ Jason suddenly clasped his arm. A four-inch dart stuck out from his right sleeve, its point embedded in his flesh. A burning sensation flared out from the shining steel.
‘Constant vigilance, Willow.’ Cadaveril said, his half-smile jerking back again. ‘Now pull out the dart before the irritant spreads up to your empty head.’
Jason sucked in air through clenched teeth as he tugged out the dart and felt warm blood trickle down his arm. He stared at the reddened inch of steel that had been deep in his flesh.
‘Both the Brethren and the Watch use poison darts,’ Cadaveril explained, ‘they’re silent and poisons are more difficult to deal with than a bullet wound. These little trainers are nothin’ the burnin’ will ease off in a bit. P’raps it’ll remind you to keep your eyes on me.’
Jason stared at him. Half his arm was roasting from the inside and it kindled a hot anger in him. He wanted more than anything to hurl the dart back at the sadistic git. Cadaveril just looked back at him, holding his half smile.
‘We’ve got the antidotes to all the poisons they use but they do keep coming up with new ones. Best not to get hit in the first place.’
Cadaveril dropped his smile and nodded once. ‘Now, you try to ‘it me with it – go o...’
Jason flicked the dart straight at the man before he’d finished giving the order. Cadaveril sidestepped and caught it crisply between his index finger and thumb and replaced it in the folds of his sash.
A door opened behind Jason – the door to the white corridor he’d come in by. He just stopped himself in time from turning to look and kept his eyes firmly on Cadaveril. After a few moments Cadaveril glanced towards the door, straightened slightly and began to walk over to it, reaching to remove the white sash around his waist.
Carl stared across at Jason, eyes narrowed and slowly shaking his head. Glancing to make sure Cadaveril wasn’t looking, he drew his finger across his throat and mouthed ‘Next time…’ at Jason. Jason winked and mouthed ‘How’s your knee?’ back at him.
‘No, no, Cadaveril, old boy, keep it on,’ came a familiar, rich voice. ‘Just popped in to see how young Jason is doing before we pack him off home.’
‘Mat side - go,’ Cadaveril barked. Carl rose painfully and hurriedly limped his way over to join the other students. Jason followed him but knelt next to Anna. Alan Brash stood next to his chauffeur-cum-Jakra master, smiling broadly.
‘Done some damage, has he?’ Brash asked, glancing at Carl.
‘The boy needs a lot of work.’ said Cadaveril. ‘He tires quick and ain’t aware of nothing but his prime target.’
Brash’s white-toothed smile broadened. ‘Oh, I’m sure a couple more sessions with you will straighten that out. Now, Jason, time to get you cleaned up and back home. I dare say your father will be interested in where you have been all afternoon. I am sure Miss Smith can be excused long enough to take you back to the guest houses.’
Jason bit back a question. He thought he was going to start learning to use his Gift today. Now however, wasn’t the time to ask.
‘Willow, Smith - dismissed.’ Cadaveril said.
Immediately, Anna stood, made her respect to Cadaveril and Brash and trotted towards the white corridor. As Jason followed her Brash nodded down at his bleeding arm. ‘Hard lessons, Jason but they will keep you alive out there,’ he said and slapped him on the shoulder.
Jason nodded and forced a thin smile. Brash winked and closed the door behind them.
Jason squinted in the still sun-bright marble corridor. Anna breathed out heavily and her shoulders sank as she relaxed. She stepped closer and looked at Jason’s arm then shook her head.
‘Cadaveril’s such a… sadistic freak,’ she whispered, glaring back at the door.
Jason smiled at her, rubbing several aching ribs. He didn’t know whether to trust her or not – what if she went running back to Cadaveril with every bad word he was tempted to spit out about the man. He decided to play safe.
‘He’s only doing it to keep me alive, right?’
Anna raised her eyes and started to jog down the corridor. ‘Maybe, but he enjoys his job too much. We’d better run – Bonehead will expect me back in a couple of minutes.’
Jason smiled – “Bonehead” was a great name for the skeletal Cadaveril. He followed Anna at a gentle run. Each step jarred in about a hundred places but at least his arm had stopped bleeding.
At the very end of the white corridor, Anna stopped and unlocked a door out into a rose garden in full bloom. It was enclosed on three sides by the abbey buildings but opened out onto the meandering river on the fourth.
‘Pretty isn’t it?’ Anna asked, breathing in the sweet, heady fragrances.
Without waiting for an answer, she led him down a well-worn stone path which wound through the garden and down to the river bank.
‘What I said about Cadaveril, back there…’ Anna said quietly, ‘…it’s okay to bad mouth the trainers outside the training halls, you know…’ She glanced across at him with a wink, ‘although there are cameras and microphones everywhere, so don’t go too wild.’
Jason grunted again. He tried to loosen his aching shoulders and neck as they walked but that only made them tighten up further. Anna seemed annoyingly recovered from the sparring, however. She looked across appraisingly at him as they walked.
‘So you’re the “great hope” Eddie’s been hot-housing are you?’
‘The “great hope”?’ Willow half laughed, trying to rub both his sets of ribs at once. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Oh you did pretty well, I thought,’ Anna smiled – she had a big smile just like Alan Brash. ‘Anyway, you must be pretty special because a tiddler like you should still be playing gangs and Pit-fighting at Silent Hill for another couple of years yet.’
Jason really didn’t feel like chatting right now. He hurt all over and half his arm was burning and to top it all, he hadn’t learned a thing about his Gift. Fortunately, they were approaching the south end of Brash’s enormous garage block. The guesthouse and his quiet room lay just on the other side.
Anna turned to him, waiting for an answer.
‘I am in the gang at Silent Hill but… um… I’ve sort of been suspended for a while, I think. Mr Brash said I should come to train here while I’m off school.’