“That whatever happens with you, nothing will ever again happen with her. I also reminded her of the fact that you saved her life.”
Whatever happens with you… The sword slipped from my hands the moment I hit the dummy, falling. I twisted, intending to face Cole, and I did, but I also scratched him on the neck as my arms flailed for balance.
“I’m so sorry!”
He wiped away a smear of blood. “Good, you should be. You can be a real pain in the…neck.”
“Hey!”
“What? I cleaned up my language.” He picked up the sword and moved behind me, properly refitting my hands on the hilt before slapping a dagger in my other hand. At first contact, a shiver slid down my spine.
“Trina carries an ax,” I said to cover my reaction. What had he meant by whatever happens with you? He was hot one minute, cold the next, and it was confusing. “Shouldn’t I learn to work with one of those?”
“Trina’s stronger than you are. She uses enough force to split bone, no matter her weapon.” Warm breath caressed my nape. “Right now, you’ll have better luck with a dagger.”
Goose bumps began to break out all over me. “If you say so.”
Motions slow and easy, Cole guided my dagger hand toward the dummy’s torso. “Zombies might not feel pain, but they feel force. Stab one here—” we sank the dagger in the side “—and the body will bow in that direction, leaving the other side wide-open.”
He guided my sword hand up and pretended to decapitate the dummy. This caused my arms to crisscross.
“As you know, in a real battle you often have zombies on your left and your right,” he continued. “Use your momentum to your advantage and spin.” He spun us both, uncrossed my arms in a graceful arc, stretching them wide, wider, until my body formed a cross.
Had zombies actually been rampaging toward us, I would have stabbed one and decapitated another. Just like that. Cole stepped away from me and had me repeat the sequence again and again, until I could do it with my eyes closed.
“What are the rules of battle?” he asked me while I worked.
For the most part, his rules meshed with my dad’s. When there was a discrepancy, I always sided with Cole. He had more experience. “Never stand still.”
“And?”
“If my dagger lodges inside a zombie’s body, let it go. Don’t try to jerk it out. That will leave me exposed and cost me precious seconds that I can’t afford to spare.”
“And?”
“If I lose all my weapons before disabling the majority of the zombies, I shouldn’t try to do any frying because I won’t be able to get my hands on them for long enough to do any good. I should run and hide.”
“Not should. Will.”
Finally the dummy was removed and I was allowed to swing my sword freely. The metal whistled menacingly. I was learning how to twirl my wrist, and thereby the sword, in a swift motion that would prevent anyone from tracking—and blocking—its descent.
When Cole was satisfied with that, and I was aching from overworking previously overworked muscles, we moved to the firing range. He selected a .22 pistol and several clips. I’d already learned how to take the thing apart, put it back together and load the magazine. In the dark.
Apparently, this kind of gun wouldn’t do much damage to a zombie, and definitely wouldn’t stop one, but it was perfect for beginners because of the low recoil.
With plugs in my ears, I aimed at the paper target and squeezed at the trigger until I ran out of ammo. I set the safety on, and placed the gun on the counter in front of me, then removed the plugs.
“Better,” Cole said. “You would have nicked his arm and hip this time, rather than the air around him.”
I scowled at him. “I’m doing the best I can.”
Before he could reply, my phone vibrated in my pocket. “Hang on,” I said, going for it. I checked the screen. Nana. She’d learned how to text, though she refused to abbreviate anything.
I want you home for dinner.
I replied with a quick: OK.
NOW.
A sigh left me. “I’ve gotta go home.” I bet another teacher had called her and complained about my behavior.
“All right. In a minute.” Cole pulled me against him and settled his chin on the top of my head. I really liked how tall he was. He made me feel small in comparison. “Do you know me well enough yet? Do you trust me?”
“I—I—” Was completely caught off guard, despite the hint he might or might not have dropped a while ago. Whatever happens with you… “I’m just a wee bit confused,” I admitted. “Why are you asking?”
“We told each other we’d get to know each other before we got serious.”
My jaw dropped. “So that’s what we’ve been doing lately?”
He leaned back, his eyes slitted, and focused on a single target. Me. “You mean you haven’t?”