Kindling (The Hunter Trilogy Book One)

by Abigail Colucci

  “Enough, gentlemen,” The Rabbi said. “The lady has 15 laps to run. Make sure she completes them and then allow her to return to the town.”

  “It will be my honour,” Jean-Luc said. He winked at me. For some reason, his winking didn’t bother me as much as Braith’s did.

  The Rabbi looked at me. “I’ll send you home a supper. Eat as much as you can. You’ll need the energy.”

  “Yes, master,” I said.

  I started running the track with Braith and Jean-Luc trailing close behind. After The Rabbi disappeared, I began hearing the boys. At first it was just whistles and catcalls, then it moved on to death threats and really, sexual jeers. I couldn’t help but wince - some of it was just awful - and any reaction I showed just made their taunts louder. I wouldn’t look at them, though, I didn’t want to humanize them - I just wanted them to remain animals in my head - so their words became just like voices on the wind. Now I knew why The Rabbi told me to bring my headphones. All I could do that first day is concentrate on my feet slapping against the pavement, the movement of ponytail, and the breeze against my sweat.

  “You understand, it’s got nothing to do with you?” Jean-Luc interrupted me from my concentration. I nodded, but didn’t look at him. It would be too much to break my concentration. “These boys don’t like change, you know. No one here is very good with change. And you, my love, are a very big change.” Jean-Luc said. I could hear a little smile in his voice and glanced at him. He was looking ahead and had a strange look on his face, some weird mixture of revenge and anger. I nodded, finally.

  We were running quite steadily and he and Braith were hardly panting. My body ached from my first day of training and my hours of travels and my fight three nights before, but the running felt good. After a few miles, the yelling became invigorating. I set goals: could I jog a mile before the next boy made a pun about rape? I pushed myself.

  Braith and Jean-Luc, however, did not see the energy the mocking and threats gave me. It was not pleasant, no, and I would have preferred to listen to birds singing than boys make animal noises, but I tried to block it out as best I could. I could feel Jean-Luc and Braith, though, get angrier by the moment.

  “Jean-Luc,” Braith began.

  Jean-Luc cut Braith off. “I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “I will take care of those boys. Such little boys,” he growled. He fell behind but I couldn’t watch where he went.

  After those first few cringes, I would not let myself show any emotion. Showing emotion would give them power. Even so, a lot of what they said was really graphic and profane and, frankly, embarrassing. I’m kind of a naive prude, I know, but there was a lot that I couldn’t even bring myself to repeat in my head. It was awful. And some of the things they said made no sense, but I recognized them saying the same words over and over and over again. I assumed they must have some sort of slang that I wasn’t yet privy to.

  “Hey, princess, I’m going to rip your hair out!”

  “Gonna rip your throat out and feed you to the vamps, you tossin’ cake!”

  “You worthless binner should be tossed about like a whore!”

  “I’ll rape and murder your sister and make you watch!”

  I almost snapped with that last one, but Braith put his hand on my shoulder. He could tell how much it bothered me. “Ignore them, Kit, as much as you can.”

  I wiped my face - sweat mixed with tears - and then I noticed Jean-Luc had not returned. “Where’s Jean-Luc?” I asked.

  “Up ahead,” Braith said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “He’s the furry one.”

  I looked ahead and there was a giant, grey wolf attacking a group of boys on the lawn. The boys didn’t seem to be hurt, but the wolf seemed to be pretty vicious. “Holy shit,” I panted. “Is he . . . He’s a wolf!” Jean-Luc trotted up next to me and, I swear, he gave me a dog smile.

  “Told you I’d get you a puppy,” Braith said. Jean-Luc growled.

  “No, seriously, he’s a ... “ I began.

  “A werewolf, yeah,” Braith finished. “He’s also a cocky stubborn jackass. You’ll get to know him.”

  “He can’t be worse than you,” I joked.

  “Oh, he’s much worse,” Braith grinned. “Jean-Luc is way older. He taught me how to be an asshole.” Jean-Luc glared up at Braith and ran in front of him, causing Braith to stumble. I’m sure I heard a laugh come out of Jean-Luc, which was so weird because he was a giant dog. A giant, laughing, human-like canine.

  Braith stopped running around lap seven. He collapsed on the grass and waved me forward. Jean-Luc kept pace with me until the end. Every so often, he would run into a group of the students and attack - by the end, though, most of the boys had gone in for supper. I don’t think he drew any blood, but he seemed to scare away most of the hecklers. After lap 15, Braith met us at the door to the town.

  “Lucky can’t come. He frightens the ladies, doncha Jean-Luc?” Braith said. Jean-Luc growled. I bent over and gave Jean-Luc a kiss and he licked my face.

  “I’ve been watching out for you for two years and never got a kiss,” Braith said. as we walked through the streets.

  “Maybe if you were as cute as Jean-Luc ...” I teased.

  “Oh, that breaks my heart,” Braith said. We were for awhile quiet as we walked to the house. Well, Braith walked. I limped. My 25 mile run and sparring caused some bad blisters and wounds from my birthday night fight were aching. Some of them reopened and I was a bruised and bloodied mess. “I’ll be here tomorrow to bring you to The Rabbi,” he said.

  “You don’t have to,” I replied. “I know the way, now.”

  “Kitty,” he smiled and moved his hand up like he was going to put his arm around my shoulder, but he quickly brought his arm back down. “I can’t let you walk alone when those arseholes are out there.”

  “You don’t think I can fight them off?”

  “Not if they all jump you at once,” he said. I must have looked scared, because then he tried to comfort me. “They won’t. I promise. Jean-Luc will meet us tomorrow, too. We’re terrifying, being the only Dhampir and werewolf most of these boys have ever met.

  I nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Braith.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. He may be a masochistic jerk, but sometimes he could be really sweet. “Goodnight,” I said. I got really embarrassed and fumbled a minute with the lock.

  Inside waiting for me was a girl, maybe a few years older than me. She was beautiful, bright red hair down past her shoulders, slender arms and legs, porcelain skin. I presumed she was my roommate, Poppy. She was deeply engrossed in a novel, but tore herself away when she heard me shut the door.

  “You Kitty?” she said.

  “Kit, is preferable. Are you Poppy?”

  “Yeah, that’s me. School sent over your dinner a good two hours ago,” she got up from her seat and began to mill about the kitchen. “Don’t think it’ll be too warm, now, but it looks good. Chicken and potatoes.” She fixed me a large plate.

  “Oh, thank you Poppy!” I sat down and inhaled the food. I was starving.

  She laughed. “Don’t eat too fast you’re going to puke!”

  After dinner she brought me some toiletries and I took a long shower. The soap and water burned my fresh cuts and I noticed the blisters on my toes had burst into bloody lesions. It took a few minutes for the stinging to subside but, once it did, it felt so good, like I hadn’t showered in months.

  When I was done, I climbed into the twin bed opposite Poppy. She was so kind, and we talked for quite awhile, until my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

  My days at the coven were a horrible sort of repetition that I had previously thought only existed in hell. In the mornings, Braith came and brought me to The Rabbi. The Rabbi met us on the other side at the track and then ordered me to run anywhere from 10 – 18 miles, depending on The Rabbi’s mood. After the sprint, he taught me some new, fighting technique used to damage vampyres. I repeated that with both my right and left side, usually until I began to
bleed. We usually sparred after that for a bit then he ordered some conditioning. I usually did a few hundred push-ups, chin-ups, and sit-ups and then he made me do the one where you bounce from side to side under the rope, whatever that’s called. After that was all done - sometimes he kept me until close to midnight - I ran another 12-15 laps with Jean-Luc at my side.

  As for my fighting, I guess I felt like I was learning but it was slow. Day two was a swift kick to the stomach. I kicked until the tops of my ankles began to bleed and then switched sides. Day three was a clear cut punch right on the bridge of the nose. I punched until my knuckles began to bleed, then switched sides. Day four was a stomp to the ankle. I did this until the side of my foot grew raw and bled, then I switched sides. Day five was a slicing, stiff chop with all four fingers to the chest. I did that until the tips of my nails broke off and my fingers were bleeding. Then, I switched hands.

  After day five, The Rabbi gave me different ways to change up the routine. After five days of this I began to spar with The Rabbi. Over and over and over again we practiced the same moves, the same strikes, the same repetitions. Sometimes he gave me a spear or machete to use, but most of the time I just used my bloodied and bandaged appendages.

  I couldn’t really visualize using these moves against a vampyre, as most of them required me to get fairly close to my sparring partner. Wouldn’t I just get bitten if I was so close? The Rabbi said, no. During our sparring sessions he would show me how to move like a vampyre, snaking around a person and sometimes climbing on top of them. The only way to defeat a vampyre would be to fight like a vampyre, he said. Eventually, I noticed my speed and agility increasing. My body twisted and contorted automatically to take down my opponent. I could tell The Rabbi was pretty pleased: I fought like a vampyre. And, I noticed after about two weeks, I was becoming terrifyingly fast, running a mile in under four minutes! I ran much faster than Braith and noticed he gave up trying to keep pace with me after only a few miles.

  For my part, I have to say I never uttered a single complaint or even spoke out of turn. I knew everyone expected me to fail - I was a whiner and a complainer and I was so terribly vain, I know. But I wanted to prove them wrong. I knew they saw me as just this spoiled, white girl from The States, after all, and even I somewhat expected me to fail. But sometime during that first day, I decided to push myself. Everyone wanted me to fail, but I refused and made myself work until my body screamed in pain, until my feet ached so bad I could barely walk, and until my appendages felt as though they could detach.

  The training was intense and I was exhaused. When I had trained with my papá, usually we trained for about three hours a day and the most time I had ever trained in one day was, maybe, six hours. But, The Rabbi had me running at five am and I wasn’t even back at the Walters’ house until eleven on most evenings. Sometimes, I was in so much pain afterwards, Poppy or Mrs. Walters had to finely grind my food in a food processor so I didn’t have to chew.

  And, to irritate me even more, The Rabbi got to rest on Shabbat, but I didn’t. He sat and said prayers and drank wine and ate Challah while he watched me kill myself. I knew it was totally unfair of him to make me work on his day of rest, but I kept it inside. I refused to complain. I knew he was pushing me to my brink for a reason, but I wasn’t privy to that reason and, eventually, my resentment grew and I started hating The Rabbi and hating Heike and hating Braith and hating everything and anyone that had any relation to Vampyre Hunting. I was angry and over-exhausted and even Braith started to tip-toe around me for fear of setting me off. I was getting sick and my fatigue was driving me insane. Even the harassment from my class mates, which persisted at a surprisingly intense rate, hardly bothered me, as I was too exhausted to really process much of what they said. It was all-consuming and, I felt, any day could be my breaking point.

  Every day, new wounds split open or old wounds re-opened. Hardened calluses tore apart. I was a mess, black-and blue, sticky from drying blood, aching, and barely functional. I was also pretty sure a few of my toes were broken and the blisters were infected. The only nice thing was being with Poppy in the evenings. She was wonderful and caring and reminded me of Sadie. Poppy and I usually talked until I collapsed into bed, although I was barely coherent through most conversations that first month.

  I lasted exactly five weeks. Five weeks of pain and sparring and bleeding and exhaustion. Five weeks of bloody wounds and sore bones and limping around. I woke up that morning feeling like I had the worst flu I ever had in my life. It tore through my body and I could hardly lift my legs in the morning. My skin was throbbing and my muscles felt like they had all charley-horsed at once. I couldn’t get my body to relax enough to even roll out of bed. I was freezing cold and boiling hot at the same time, so I was pretty sure I had a high fever. Unfortunately, I woke Poppy by moaning loudly when I tried to get out of bed.

  “God, Kit, you look something awful!” Poppy got up and sat next to me on the bed. I groaned as the mattress moved beneath her weight. “You can’t go today. How are you going to run?” She whispered. “How are you going to do anything? You can’t go,” she repeated.

  “I have to, Poppy. I don’t have a choice,” I said.

  “There’s always a choice,” she said, although she wasn’t very convincing because she pulled back my blankets and motioned for me to hold her hands. I clung to her as she pulled me from bed and tried to muffle a cry when she stood me up straight. I could barely raise my arms over my head, but she managed to dress me. I bit down on a rolled up sock so my moans would be stifled - I didn’t want to wake anyone else. Poppy even helped me walk down the stairs.

  Braith was waiting for me on the stoop. “You’re late,” he said. I’m sure there was more to the nagging but he stopped when he saw me clinging to Poppy. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. But, when I took a step without Poppy, I fell into Braith.

  “You’re not fine,” Braith said. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked Poppy.

  “She’s sick. She’s got a fever,” Poppy said.

  Braith placed his hand on my forehead. “I don’t. I’m fine,” I said.

  “She’s burning up,” Braith said, ignoring me. “Can you make it to The Rabbi?” I nodded. “Thanks, Poppy.”

  Poppy didn’t look very pleased with me leaving, but I had obligations that I didn’t think I could miss.

  I half walked and Braith half carried me through the town. I felt delirious. “You’re eyes are like honey, Braith,” I said.

  “They are?” He asked. I could tell he grinned a little, but I’m not sure if I responded.

  I may have passed out while walking as the next thing I remember is being on the track. The Rabbi was ahead. When we got close enough he looked me over with raised eyebrows. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

  “She’s burning up,” Braith said. “I don’t think she should run.”

  “No, no, I’m okay. I’m feeling better,” I said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kitty,” Braith said. “You need to rest. Ask The Rabbi for a break. I’m sure he will give it to you if you ask.”

  “No,” I said. I was already sweating and panting and I knew that wasn’t a good sign, but I turned to The Rabbi anyway and waited his order.

  “Go ahead, run,” The Rabbi said. “15 laps.” Braith exhaled and seemed like he was going to argue, but The Rabbi put up his hand to hush him.

  I am proud to say that I did make it one entire lap around the track. I was slow, not running at all really, more like limp-jog-walking, but I made it around. By the time The Rabbi and Braith were in view again, the sun was rising. I was proud of myself. They didn’t think I could make it, but I had already ran a mile!

  My pride was short lived, however. About 200 feet from the mile mark, I collapsed onto my hands and knees and vomited all over the track. That was not one of my finer moments in life.

  The Rabbi and Braith ran to me. “Are you okay?” The Rabbi asked.

&nb
sp; “No,” I vomited some more. “Master.”

  “You have to push yourself to fight even when you are at your weakest, Katherine,” The Rabbi said. I nodded. “Run,” he said.

  I shook my head. I felt blood on the legs of my pants where my knees had slammed into the pavement. I was done. I couldn’t move another inch. “I can’t,” I said. I had to admit that I could not live up to their expectations. I had spent every last shred of energy I had and I had nothing more to prove because I failed.

  The Rabbi knelt beside me. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t,” I breathed.

  “What would happen to you right now if a vampyre attacked you?” The Rabbi asked.

  I shook my head. “I would die.” I was incredibly out-of-breath and spoke between pants. This worried me. I hoped I wasn’t having a heart attack.

  “You would give up like that?” I nodded. “You wouldn’t fight at all?”

  I shook my head again and coughed. I collapsed onto my elbows and rolled onto my back. My elbow scabs broke open and I could feel steams of blood running around my arm. I was so week I couldn’t even lift my arm to shield my eyes from the rising sun. The sour taste of vomit was fresh in my mouth. I knew I had vomit on my face and hair, but I couldn’t even muster the energy to wipe. The pain was like death. I had given up.

  The Rabbi stared at me for a long time, maybe trying to assess my truthfulness. He nodded and grinned. “Excellent.” He looked at Braith, eyes shining. “She’s absolutely amazing.” The Rabbi got out his cell phone and walked away.

  Braith crouched down next to me. “No one, and I’m talking no one in that crotchety old man’s centuries long existence, has ever lasted five weeks in his training.” I groaned. I didn’t care what I accomplished, I just cared that I was dying.

  The Rabbi came back and clapped his hands together. “Gather her up, we’ll be on our way.”