Free Resurrection (Apocalypse Chronicles Part II) by Laury Falter Page A

They teach that to you down on the range?”
    He only grinned, leaned down and kissed me on the nose before hauling me up.
    “Again,” he said, and we repeated the spar, this time using traditional karate. He met me with equal ability and speed, making it the first sparring session I had with anyone since my dad who had even a small measure of ability. Each time from then on Harrison defended himself with the same style I used on him, leaving delicate kisses on me whenever he’d successfully pinned me to the ground.
    On the fifth spar, Beverly loosened the disapproving pinch of her lips just long enough to protest. “Okay, I’m going to stretch our imaginations a little and just suggest that the Infected won’t be fighting us with martial arts.”
    I would have laughed if I wasn’t so tired. Harrison, to my shame, looked like we hadn’t even started.
    “What you’re seeing…,” he said, “what you will learn…is how to block, throw, punch and kick the Infected attacking you. This might give you enough time to evade and free yourself from your situation.”
    “Then let’s get on with it,” she said rising to her feet. “I’m tired of watching you two show off.”
    I felt a frown coming on but it gave way to stark humility when Doc, who was hauling himself up by the rail, replied under his breath. “Oh, that wasn’t showing off…That was revving up.”
    Harrison caught it too, his back tensing at the realization of what we’d been doing, and that we’d done it with an audience.
    Mei, who had preserved her innocence, tilted her head and squinted her eyes in confusion. “Revving up for what?” she asked.
    “Tonight…,” Beverly replied smugly, seeming to enjoy the discomfort that had settled over Harrison and me.
    He snuck a look my way but it was gone before I could meet it.
    “All right,” he bellowed in a commanding tone. “Let’s pair up!”
    Apparently, he recovered quicker than me.
    That was the last time Harrison and I sparred together, choosing instead to work with Doc, Mei, or Beverly. I missed his hidden caresses and subtle kisses, but it was obvious we needed to separate. Not because we were already skilled, not because our interest in each other was getting in the way, but because we were training our friends, our teammates to fight for their lives. We were reminded of how much we had to do to prepare them once they began to train. Mei, it turned out, was the fastest. While she didn’t have the strength for physical confrontation, her small frame could dodge any of us coming at her in one fluid motion. Evasion was her best tactic. Doc was the slowest due to his size but his brute force gave him the power to punch and kick, making muscle strength his best asset. When delving into her deep-seeded anger, Beverly was excellent at blocking and throwing. Calling on that fury gave her the extra strength she needed to knock any of us off our feet when she wanted.
    Harrison and I didn’t finish on the roof that night what we’d started on the ground earlier that day, but the tension was there, fluidly running between us. During the days that followed, the tension never subsided, and we were gradually forced to channel it into our training time with the others.
    Within a few weeks, we could sense the tone in each other’s voices and finish each other’s sentences. When we moved, we did it as a unit, anticipating each other’s next steps.
    When we found ourselves ready to leave it was well-timed because when we woke up our last morning we were greeted by a pod of Infected coming down the driveway.

CHAPTER 5
    I T WAS THEIR MOVEMENT, THE CRUNCH of their weight against the freshly fallen snow, which alerted Harrison. He heard them on the main road, and again when they wandered onto the Nielsen’s driveway. By the time I was on my feet, they were within eyesight.
    As Harrison raced through the house, stirring everyone else awake, I peered out the bedroom window overlooking the front yard to