18
SAM
Sam flipped the Academy’s jujitsu instructor onto his back and the guy landed with a thump! Sam swiftly followed up with a compliance hold. The instructor broke out of his hold and flipped Sam onto his back.
‘Yield!’ Sam called after he knew he was pinned. ‘I yield!’
‘You’re getting better,’ the instructor said, letting go.
‘Nice,’ Sam said, getting helped up. ‘Again.’
The two of them weaved around each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw that Lora and Eva had come into the dojo. His attention was momentarily distracted and the instructor easily flipped Sam onto his back again.
‘Argh!’ Sam got to his feet and went back to his position. The instructor looked ready to pounce.
‘Think you can take two of us?’ Lora called.
‘Bring it,’ Sam said, without looking at her—he knew she was still well out of reach, and he moved to his left, opening up the floor and getting them both in his sights.
The instructor rushed at him. Sam sidestepped and tried a flip which was parried and redirected to flip him. Sam rolled over the instructor’s back, turning the instructor inside-out from his previous stance.
Lora rushed at him, but with her dart gun drawn. Sam, interlocking his elbows through those of the instructor’s, dropped with all his weight and turned forward into a roll, flipping the instructor over his head—
THUMP!
The instructor knocked Lora over and the two of them tangled on the floor in a heap. Sam was already standing, triumphant, with Lora’s dart gun now in hand.
‘OK,’ the instructor said, catching his breath and laughing. ‘He’s ready.’
Outside, Sam walked with Eva, following Lora through the maze of school buildings and then across the sports ovals. He thought they were headed for the boathouse but then they took a path towards the woods. The path led to a clearing which Sam could see was an archery range.
‘Something for you,’ Lora said, handing Sam her dart gun. ‘You might need one of these.’
‘Really?’ Sam said, holding the weapon.
‘It’s like any other air pistol,’ Lora said, ‘only it fires small darts, about two centimetres long.’
Sam felt the weight of the weapon in his hand.
‘The darts are tipped with a neurotoxin,’ Lora said, ‘that will shut down a target for anywhere from half an hour up to about six.’
Sam nodded, remembering Sebastian shooting him in the neck, close-up and hitting him mid-vein … he’d dropped like a sack and was out for a few hours.
‘The length of time they’re out will depend on their size and physiology, as well as where you shoot them, but even the biggest guy, shot in the back, will be incapacitated for thirty minutes.’ Lora pointed to the top of the pistol grip near Sam’s thumb. ‘There’s a setting there to adjust the levels.’
Sam asked, ‘How many darts does it hold?’
‘Eighteen,’ Lora replied, and handed him two more loaded clips. ‘And there’s enough compressed gas in there to go through nine clips, then you have to change the cylinder.’
Lora demonstrated by pulling the gun apart in a couple of seconds, then piecing it back together in a series of clicks.
‘I don’t think I’ll get that trigger happy,’ Sam replied, testing out the loading sequence.
‘Go ahead,’ Lora said. ‘Send some darts down the range.’
Sam aimed the weapon and fired—it hit low.
He tried again, on the level but to the right.
‘Try and be steady with the way you pull the trigger,’ Lora suggested. ‘Squeeze it gently.’
Sam did as instructed—still far wide of the bullseye. He fired another three times, getting closer to the centre target each time. Then he tried a few combinations of quick-drawing in different stances, and got the hang of it when he finally hit a round next to the bullseye.
‘Good work,’ Lora said. ‘I sometimes forget what a quick learner you are.’
‘Thanks,’ Sam said. ‘Eva, want a shot?’
Eva’s eyes narrowed.
‘I’m not really a fan of weapons,’ she replied.
‘Come on …’ Sam said. ‘One shot.’
‘It might come in handy one day,’ Lora encouraged.
‘Fine,’ Eva replied, taking the dart gun. She took aim and squeezed the trigger.
WHACK!
‘That’s—incredible!’ Sam said, marvelling at the small dart stuck perfectly in the middle of the tiny target. Eva raised one eyebrow and handed the dart gun back to Sam.
Lora’s phone beeped. She was still smiling as she read the incoming message.
‘I’ve got to run back, but you should stay and practise. Finish those clips then replace the gas canister,’ Lora said, walking away.
Sam fired off the remainder of the darts and then loaded in a new set.
‘Come on, you know you want to see if you can do that again,’ Sam said, handing the dart gun to Eva again. She smiled and took it from him. It looked big in her hands. ‘I mean, anyone can get lucky once, right? But can you do it again?’
Her dart hit the bullseye—right next to her first, and far better than any Sam had fired. She laughed and fired a couple more times, both projectiles hitting close to the previous ones.
‘I think you’ll find the answer to your question is yes,’ Eva said, handing the gun over. ‘Last year I was first in Washington State under 16’s in archery.’
Sam smiled and shook his head as he unloaded the gun. ‘You are a girl of many talents, Eva.’
‘Yes, Sam, I am,’ she grinned.
They walked slowly towards the helicopter pad.
‘Are you scared?’ Eva asked. ‘I mean, about going out there again?’
‘A little bit,’ Sam admitted. ‘My dream … it was so weird. And, well, you’d think I’d be used to seeing myself like that. But this whole new dream-steering thing that messes with what’s real? That’s scary stuff.’
‘You know what,’ Eva said, staring absently at the ground as they walked, ‘you should do one thing every day that scares you.’
‘It is,’ Eva said.
‘Where’d you get that from?’ Sam asked.
‘My mum used to say it.’
The sun poked through the low dark clouds and the dew on the grass shone like crystals.
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ Eva said and Sam was conscious that she was interrogating him. ‘Was it your dream? Something that you aren’t telling me?’
‘No, I promise, it’s not that.’
‘What then?’ she persisted.
‘I just hate saying goodbye to you guys,’ Sam said. ‘Especially after what happened at the Swiss campus. I should be here, with you.’
Eva pointed at a squad of armed Guardians walking the perimeter of the forest.
‘We’ll be fine here, don’t worry about anything other than yourself,’ Eva said. ‘Those aren’t dart guns they’re carrying. Not anymore. Besides, someone has to keep things running behind the scenes.’ She nudged him gently.
Sam nodded. They rounded the corner of a building and saw that the helicopter was readying for take-off. Tobias and Xavier walked over to it with their packs slung across their shoulders.
‘But will you be OK?’ Sam asked.
Eva looked across at Sam and for a few seconds there was silence between them.
‘You’re the one who sees so much more of the future than me,’ she said. ‘So, you tell me—will I be OK here?’
‘Yeah,’ Sam said, smiling. ‘I think you’ll be fine.’
‘We’re leaving!’ Tobias called at the helicopter as the rotors started up. ‘Your bag is on board already, Sam.’
Lora joined them, and Sam could tell that she had some news to share.
‘We’ve found Mac,’ she said, ‘or rather, he’s found us. He wants to meet.’
‘He does?’ Sam scoffed.
Lora nodded, then said, ‘I’ll go straightaway. Eva, you up for a field trip?’
‘For sure.’
‘Good, we’ll leave now, too.’
‘Don’t forget what Mac tried to pull on us in France,’ Sam said. His face creased with concern. ‘You guys will be careful, won’t you?’
‘Don’t worry—we’ll find out what he’s up to and what he wants,’ Lora said. ‘He said the situation is not how it appears. And it would be better to form some kind of truce with him, to work together if we can, than have him as another enemy. At least for now.’
Sam nodded doubtfully, looking back to the chopper. They were ready for take-off, now just waiting for him.
Eva hugged Sam, who strapped his pack on tight.
‘Be careful out there,’ Sam said to her.
‘We’ll be OK. You’ve seen me shoot,’ she said with another grin. ‘You just focus on what you need to do. Just remember to breathe. Come on, Lora, we’ll be fronting Mac long before these guys get to Brazil. Let’s roll!’
Sam waved goodbye and smiled a bittersweet smile as he ran to the chopper. ‘That’s my catchphrase.’