Chapter 12
An hour later, the group moved out to the parking lot. They had tried, but hadn’t been able to find anything that would trigger Paul’s ability again. Even Hodge, who could nearly always get under Paul’s skin, was unable to reproduce a strong enough reaction. Knowing that it was all in an effort to get him manifest his ability, Paul’s reaction to Hodge’s aggression never became extreme like it did the first time. It just wasn’t a true reaction. It wasn’t strong enough.
The air of disappointment the group felt was left in the training area, though, and as they made their way outside a lot of good-natured verbal jibes were given and received. Not knowing why they were there, only having been told that it was time to ‘head to the parking lot,’ Paul had no idea why everyone’s spirits suddenly became so much more upbeat. Whatever it was they were there to do, every one of them laid claim to being the best. They had the air of a sports team about to play a big game.
“Hey Kenneth, we’ll give you a five minute head start!”
“Try not to trip this time, Liz!”
“Hey wait a minute, everyone,” everyone stopped talking to listen to Kenneth. “Seriously. Parker. Which way is east?”
The whole group erupted in laughter, Parker included.
“Okay, people!” Dittrich raised his hands for quiet. “Next Glory Run is about to begin. We have our newest victim joining us tonight, and we all know it should provide some solid entertainment. It always does!”
Everyone joined in the laughter.
“Now most Walkers have a chance to learn about the Glory Run beforehand and work out some sort of strategy, but since Paul has that little extra advantage with his ability,” Dittrich grinned, “I thought it would be more fair if we just gave him the short version, right now, right before we leave the gate.”
Still laughing, a few of them gave Paul good-natured pats on the back.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about,” Dittrch continued, “so here it is. The Glory Run is a race that we run once a week as long as everyone is here. It started as just a simple foot race between James and Parker about, what… a million years ago?”
Everyone laughed again, “But it has… shall we say—evolved?—into something we all participate in. Our Sentinels put it together during the day, changing the potential routes each and every time.
“The objective is to use your skills and memory to find trees that have been pre-chosen and marked. The one who finds the most pre-marked trees by sunrise is the winner for that race. They not only hold the Glory Cup in their safe room until someone else wins one of the races, but most importantly, hold the glory and the bragging rights for the week.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Paul replied.
“Ah but there’s more,” smiled Dittrich. “You are given two pieces of information to find each tree; a direction and distance. Everyone is given the information for the first tree at the same time, here in the parking lot. The rest are found on cards attached to the trees. There are multiple cards on every tree. Choose one of the cards and follow its directions to another tree. The card will contain the direction and distance, such as ‘east, one hundred meters’ or ‘northwest, one-point-two-seven miles’.” Paul nodded. “In addition,” Dittrich said, “the card will have either a six-digit code or a short phrase printed at the bottom. For the tree to be counted as a point for you, you must memorize the bottom line of each card and be able to write it down in the morning. At breakfast, we check everyone’s codes and declare a winner.”
“Which,” Lisa announced, “will be me because tonight is my night!”
Everyone erupted in whoops and whistles and general chatter until Dittrich turned and walked around the left side of the building. Quieting, the group followed in an expectant cluster.
Walking past the helipad to where the building disappeared into the side of the mountain, Dittrich stopped and turned with his back to the building wall. On his right was the mountainside, rising up into darkness, but in front of him was what would have been a breathtaking view in daylight hours. Astralis was built on a natural rock shelf and Dittrich stood at the edge of that shelf.
Everyone made a line along the edge, peering out into the night, waiting for the first set of instructions. Paul looked down. In the moonlight, he could just barely make out where the cliff began to slope back at an angle. It was at least a couple hundred feet. Never having been comfortable with heights, he took a small step backward.
“So,” Dittrich said, and everyone stopped moving to listen closely. Taking his time, he asked, “Is everyone ready?”
“Don’t toy with us, man!” said Kenneth excitedly.
Paul had never been involved in any sports at school. He was usually the last guy to get picked for teams and it was for good reason. The term ‘athletic ability’ and Paul’s name were never used in the same sentence. Paul looked up and down the line of Walkers, feeling completely out of his element.
Smiling, Dittrich pointed with an outstretched arm into the emptiness in front of them and said quietly, “Northwest. Two hundred and seventy-five yards.”
Everyone except Paul leapt into action. Literally.
They leapt as a group over the edge of the cliff into open air, dropping out of sight into a two-hundred foot free fall.
“Oh my God!” Paul exclaimed, stepping up again to the edge of the cliff next to Dittrich. Looking down, he saw eight bodies land with bone-crushing thuds, arms and legs splaying in all directions as they tumbled and rolled to stops. They lay still for a few moments and then unsteadily got to their feet, stumbling as they moved northwest toward the first tree. The scene could have been right out of a zombie movie as they shambled and stumbled along, but with every second that passed their gait became more regular. By the time they faded from sight into the darkness, whooping and hollering the entire way, most of them were running at full speed as if they hadn’t just leapt to what would have been their death if they hadn’t been in the dream.
“Oh my God,” Paul repeated, still in shock over something he already knew was possible but could never have fully comprehended without seeing it.
“Oh my God, indeed,” replied Dittrich, putting a conciliatory arm around Paul’s shoulders. “It’s quite a spectacle even when you’ve seen it as often as I have.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Of course it hurts. It hurts as if you’d really broken every bone. But it’s just pain. It is just a feeling and because it is only that, it can be controlled the same way that you control your anger or the way you might hold back tears when you don’t want someone to see you cry. There is no way to win the Glory Run without embracing this aspect of Walking. The Glory Run is for bragging rights, most certainly, but the skills encompassed in the strategy for winning are ones that cannot be learned too well. They are the base skills needed for every single mission. Let yourself be hurt. Be prepared for it and when it comes, suppress it until it goes away.”
Looking down, Paul realized that Dittrich was basically telling him to jump, but instinct held him back. He hated heights. Hated them. It made him queasy just to see someone else be somewhere up high. He wasn’t sure he could do it.
He looked over at Dittrich, who gave him an encouraging nod. Steeling himself, he counted down from three, tensing up at the end of the count. He tried to will himself to take the leap, but he just couldn’t.
“I don’t think I can…”
Dittrich, whose arm had still been around his shoulders, gave him shove and Paul was air born.
“Oh my God!” he yelled.
In the six seconds it took for him to land at the bottom of the cliff, he barely had time to register that he’d just been thrown off a cliff. Dittrich had actually just thrown him off a cliff! The man was out of his mind!
And then he landed on the sloped mountainside, rolling another fifty or so feet before coming to a stop. The pain was excruciating, worse than anything he’d ever experienced in his life, and he cried out
in agony. His entire body hurt, the pain pulsating through him in waves. He was supposed to learn to suppress this?
Lying there, moaning, he tried to move an arm and was surprised that he could with absolutely no trouble at all. He moved his neck from side to side with the same effect. Everything still hurt, but he was able to move as if he were not. Getting first to his hands and knees, he leveraged himself off the ground and stood up. If not for the pain he felt, he probably could have gotten to his feet immediately after the fall. In fact, as he tested the mobility of the different parts of his body, he knew without a doubt that he could have gotten up and been moving without missing a moment. The waves of pain were already ebbing, receding to a dull throb. Soon, he knew, they would be entirely gone.
Looking up to where he’d been standing less than a minute ago, he saw Dittrich peering down. The man raised an arm and waved, then turned and disappeared from view, presumably going back into Astralis.
Raising his own arm, Paul offered just one finger in reply.
Turning away, he began running to the northwest. Two hundred and seventy-five yards. How far would that be? Almost three football fields. Wishing he’d spent a little more time playing sports in high school, Paul tried envisioning that distance. Shaking his head, he figured his best bet would probably be to just keep his eyes open for a tree that looked different from all the others. There had to be some sort of markings.
Running along, scanning the trees for cards, it was inevitable that his lack of attention to the smaller obstacles in his path were his greatest setbacks. The first small branch that he ran past caught him in the chest and clothes-lined him onto his back. It was no more than a twig, but in the dream it was like running into an immovable steel wire. And it hurt! Getting groggily to his feet, it was only another dozen paces before his ankle got caught on another small, low-hanging tree branch. Both of the branches couldn’t have been bigger around than his pinky. Thank God there are no mosquitoes out tonight, he thought.
Climbing to his feet, he took a deep breath and listened. He could just barely make out the echoing sounds of everyone else as they catcalled their way through the trees, each finding his own path, each taunting the rest as they found their target trees.
Northwest. That was what Dittrich had said. Looking up into the sky, Paul easily picked out the North Star and turned slightly to the left. He may not come in first tomorrow morning, but he would damn sure not come in last.
Watchers of the Night Page 36
