hours for dinner. I've no doubt you'll have worked up quite an appetite.” With that, she left.
Well, crap. No coffee and doughnuts.
Tony raised his hand with the same bored expression he'd worn since I'd met him. “So when do we start training?”
“You've already started.” All heads turned towards Gabriel, who'd been Mister Quiet Man up to this point. He stood up and paced as he spoke. “If you're smart, you'll remember everything you've just heard and what it's taught you about your fellow Wild Cards. You need to know what to expect from each other when the pressure's on and stakes are high.”
Tony smirked. “I don't see how any of these sob stories could make a difference one way or the other.”
Guess Wild Cards weren't picked genetically for their personalities.
Gabriel gave him a total hairy eyeball. “Then let's hope you're better at fighting than you are at listening.”
Tony's smirk deepened. “Seriously, dude. Tell me what I'm supposed to get from knowing Redwood Barbie here”—he jerked his head towards me—”outlived her boyfriend.”
I hooked a foot under one of Tony's chair legs and pulled hard. Seconds later Tony was flat on his back, ass over teakettle and chair back. I stared down at him. “For starters, jerk, you know I won't put up with any shit from you.”
“And she might outlive you too.” Extending a hand, Gabriel pulled Tony to his feet. “Unless you pay attention. Ready to train, everyone?”
Tony eyed me with new respect and what I suspected might be the beginning of a crush. “Shit, yeah. Can Ashley be my partner?”
Oh yeah. Gotta love those post-adolescent hormones and guys who go for warrior women. Beat a guy up and he's yours for life, the anti Red-Sonya complex. Oh well, better than the uber-macho freaks that can't stand being shown up by a female. At least I didn't have to worry about Tony gunning for me. Just drooling on me.
Gabriel slapped Tony on one shoulder. “We'll switch off so you all get a chance to work with each other.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed at Gabriel when Tony wasn't looking.
One corner of Gabriel's mouth lifted in reply. “Let's go, then. Since it's your first session, I'll take it easy on you.”
Chapter Nine
Simone hadn't been kidding about the whole “working up an appetite” thing. And Gabriel was obviously being facetious when he said he'd take it easy on us.
He started with basic hand-to-hand, specifically methods of disabling without grappling. In other words, how to not let the enemy (i.e. ravenous ghouls) get a hold of you. And if they do, how to disengage without being bitten or otherwise mauled.
He also stressed the importance of maintaining an awareness of our surroundings while dealing with the zombies. This made it easier to keep any eye out for escape routes, objects that could be used offensively or defensively, and more damn zombies.
Sure, Wild Cards didn't have to worry about infection, but we could still have our carotid arteries ripped out or our limbs torn off. Either one would most likely result in death, just without the subsequent reanimation of our corpses. And while yeah, the thought of lurching around while rotting on the hoof was gross and disturbing, the thought of just being dead was even worse. At least to me.
At any rate, we spent two hours learning how to fall, roll, deflect our opponent's energy, blah blah blah—lots of blocks, throws, joint locks. A lot of emphasis on avoiding the mouth area, even if we couldn't be infected by bites any more.
How cool was it that this stuff came so easily? Kind of like being turned into a vampire in the Buffy-verse: you're suddenly gifted with martial arts skills even if you were a total non-athletic geek before the bite. Okay, not that unrealistic, but our coordination, strength, and muscle memory were definitely amped.
“Excuse me,” I said to Gabriel after slamming Kai to the mat by jerking on his arm while simultaneously knocking his legs out from under
Well, crap. No coffee and doughnuts.
Tony raised his hand with the same bored expression he'd worn since I'd met him. “So when do we start training?”
“You've already started.” All heads turned towards Gabriel, who'd been Mister Quiet Man up to this point. He stood up and paced as he spoke. “If you're smart, you'll remember everything you've just heard and what it's taught you about your fellow Wild Cards. You need to know what to expect from each other when the pressure's on and stakes are high.”
Tony smirked. “I don't see how any of these sob stories could make a difference one way or the other.”
Guess Wild Cards weren't picked genetically for their personalities.
Gabriel gave him a total hairy eyeball. “Then let's hope you're better at fighting than you are at listening.”
Tony's smirk deepened. “Seriously, dude. Tell me what I'm supposed to get from knowing Redwood Barbie here”—he jerked his head towards me—”outlived her boyfriend.”
I hooked a foot under one of Tony's chair legs and pulled hard. Seconds later Tony was flat on his back, ass over teakettle and chair back. I stared down at him. “For starters, jerk, you know I won't put up with any shit from you.”
“And she might outlive you too.” Extending a hand, Gabriel pulled Tony to his feet. “Unless you pay attention. Ready to train, everyone?”
Tony eyed me with new respect and what I suspected might be the beginning of a crush. “Shit, yeah. Can Ashley be my partner?”
Oh yeah. Gotta love those post-adolescent hormones and guys who go for warrior women. Beat a guy up and he's yours for life, the anti Red-Sonya complex. Oh well, better than the uber-macho freaks that can't stand being shown up by a female. At least I didn't have to worry about Tony gunning for me. Just drooling on me.
Gabriel slapped Tony on one shoulder. “We'll switch off so you all get a chance to work with each other.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed at Gabriel when Tony wasn't looking.
One corner of Gabriel's mouth lifted in reply. “Let's go, then. Since it's your first session, I'll take it easy on you.”
Chapter Nine
Simone hadn't been kidding about the whole “working up an appetite” thing. And Gabriel was obviously being facetious when he said he'd take it easy on us.
He started with basic hand-to-hand, specifically methods of disabling without grappling. In other words, how to not let the enemy (i.e. ravenous ghouls) get a hold of you. And if they do, how to disengage without being bitten or otherwise mauled.
He also stressed the importance of maintaining an awareness of our surroundings while dealing with the zombies. This made it easier to keep any eye out for escape routes, objects that could be used offensively or defensively, and more damn zombies.
Sure, Wild Cards didn't have to worry about infection, but we could still have our carotid arteries ripped out or our limbs torn off. Either one would most likely result in death, just without the subsequent reanimation of our corpses. And while yeah, the thought of lurching around while rotting on the hoof was gross and disturbing, the thought of just being dead was even worse. At least to me.
At any rate, we spent two hours learning how to fall, roll, deflect our opponent's energy, blah blah blah—lots of blocks, throws, joint locks. A lot of emphasis on avoiding the mouth area, even if we couldn't be infected by bites any more.
How cool was it that this stuff came so easily? Kind of like being turned into a vampire in the Buffy-verse: you're suddenly gifted with martial arts skills even if you were a total non-athletic geek before the bite. Okay, not that unrealistic, but our coordination, strength, and muscle memory were definitely amped.
“Excuse me,” I said to Gabriel after slamming Kai to the mat by jerking on his arm while simultaneously knocking his legs out from under
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