Chapter 10

Daisy came grumbling in while they were shooting basketballs. Her feet shuffled and she yawned multiple times in the five seconds since she'd walked into the room. Her blue hair was a mess, sticking out in multiple places. Her sapphire eyeliner from her left eye was smeared down the side of her face, giving her a bright sideburn.

"Mornin', sunshine," Marcus said, holding the basketball in the crook of his elbow. He had taken off his boots and spurs, thank god, but he had left the hat on. He had dark jeans over his legs and a matching buttoned shirt. Zane found himself giggling at the fact that he was playing basketball with a cowboy. He had no idea why, but he found this fact hysterical.

Daisy grumbled, her hazel eyes opening ever so slightly. Despite looking like she just rolled out of bed, which she did, she managed to glare at Marcus. She grabbed a basketball from a side bucket, practically palming it.

She reeled and threw it with one hand. It sailed over their heads and sunk into the basket. It bounced to the ground, echoing in the shocked silence. She gave Marcus the finger. "Don't call me sunshine," she growled. And then she promptly collapsed on a nearby bench, her eyes closing again.

"That girl is awesome," Joseph said, and Zane felt a twist of jealousy in his gut.

Joseph had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and the blue fabric was pooled at his shoulders. Zane's eyes caught the small mole on the back of his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. His silver ring gleamed under the fluorescent lights. His smile was stretched wide, and his dark brown hair fell over his forehead in sheets.

Zane's next shot sailed over even the backboard.

Joseph grinned foolishly. He shot his ball, and it hit the rim, bouncing off. Zane mocked his smirk. He laughed delightfully, his head thrown back toward the roof.

"Oh, yeah?" Mallory demanded. She squared her shoulders and spread her feet, holding the basketball in one hand. Zane found his jaw dropping as her arm began to lengthen, stretching toward the basket. Zane frowned as she simply dropped the ball into the basket.

"Show-off," he muttered under his breath, walking forward to retrieve his own basketball.

Mallory didn't hear him. Instead, she seemed to be pondering something. "What do you think Wawrzynski will do if we don't train with his weapons?" she asked, throwing out the question to the room. Her arm retracted back to its normal size.

Zane scoffed. "He might not have to do anything,"

Joseph looked at him curiously. He elaborated. "By giving us the resources to train and practically nothing else to do but eat, it's obvious he thinks we'll do it out of boredom. I know I will." He chucked the basketball into the bucket against the wall.

"Why?" came Mallory's response.

"Look around you," he said. "There's no cameras in this room." It was true. Zane could spot no security cameras like in the main room and the bedrooms. "Wawrzynski is loosening his leash on us, expecting us to take initiative. Like I've said before, the more we cooperate with him, the looser that grip is going to become."

"You're one smart cookie," Mallory stated matter-of-factly. "And if we go along with it, we'll learn how to handle a variety of weapons-"

"-which may be helpful in the future," Zane finished, nodding. Mallory gave him a sly look. Her thoughtful brown eyes gazed back into his. Her curly black hair was tied back in a loose bun and several strands had fallen out over her ears.

Zane strode over to the bench and took a seat beside Daisy, who was stretched out, snoring. He ran a hand through his blond hair, smoothing it to the left. He caught a flash of Joseph's blue eyes on him. He smiled to himself as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He brought his legs up, crossing them in his lap.

"What if Wawrzynski is doing it on purpose?" Joseph asked casually, as if asking for Chinese food for dinner. "What if he wants us to think he's loosening his grip?"

Zane frowned. "He may be," he said calmly. "But since all the lies we were told in New Vancouver, I've learned not to overthink things. Thinking about everything that may or may not be true scares the hell out of me." He rubbed a hand over his knees.

Joseph nodded. "Everything everyone ever told us could be a lie," he said, his voice shaking slightly. He turned around and stooped down to pick up his basketball. Zane rolled his eyes. He had to be giving Zane that view on purpose. He straightened up and turned back around. Zane could have sworn he caught a ghost of a smile on Joseph's lips. "That is overwhelming."

"Mhm," Zane murmured. "Don't overthink it,"

Joseph laughed. "I see what you mean," he said. "It gets to a point where you just take everything in stride. A point when you just accept what happens and move on." Zane didn't think that was fully the case, evidenced by his reaction to his own escape plan, let alone if someone else were to propose such an idea.

Marcus was standing silently on the other side of Daisy, and he looked ready to fall asleep as well. Mallory was watching Joseph and Zane with carefully veiled enthusiasm, the opposite of Daisy's outright excitement.

Joseph threw his basketball into the bin and rolled down his sleeves, hiding his bare arms. "Shall we proceed to become weapons of destruction?"

Thank whoever was above that Wawrzynski had given them practice weapons. Zane could not imagine learning how to use a sword and accidentally decapitating someone.

Since the last time they had been in the weapons room, racks had risen from the ground on the other side of the wrestling mats, bristling with wooden weapons, mirrors of the glimmering steel ones on the opposite racks. Zane breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them.

They had left Daisy sleeping in the gymnasium, so it was only the four of them. Marcus grinned, a feral look spreading across his face. "Shall we?" he asked as if he wanted a dance. He plucked a fierce-looking curved wooden sword from the rack. "A katana, nice!" Zane wasn't sure what a katana was, but it looked vicious. Marcus pointed at Mallory. "You and me, Elastigirl," he hissed.

"Bring it, Animal Boy,'' she spat. She plucked a pair of nunchucks off the rack. They were one of the only items that did not have a blade, therefore they were not made of wood. The handles were soft enough that they would not injure. She swung them around, switching them between hands behind her back. Zane thought he caught a hint of fear in Marcus's eyes and almost laughed out loud.

Zane had no idea where Mallory and Marcus had learned to handle such weapons, but he didn't question it. It was better to leave some things unknown. Especially when it came to violent tendencies.

Joseph looked just as nervous as Zane felt. "I'm not even sure where to start," he whispered, his eyes scanning the rack before him.

"Me neither," Zane answered truthfully. He watched the racks, seeing if a particular weapon jumped out at him. He passed over the swords and hesitated next to the staffs. He placed his hands on his hips, pondering.

Then his eyes caught a pair of deer horn knives nearby. They were made of dark oak wood, with yellow paracord wrapped around the handles. They looked like ovals. One side was occupied by the paracord, the other had four blades extending from it; two small ones like daggers from near the middle and two longer ones from the edges, curving toward the center. He smiled wickedly to himself as he lifted them from the stand. The paracord was smooth against his palms, but coarse enough that it would not slide from his fingers when he struck with them.

When he turned around, Joseph had pried a staff from the rack. It was made of the same wood as the deer horn knives. It was topped with an orb of smooth wood, presumably for whacking things. Despite its almost comical appearance, it looked deadly. Joseph was weighing it in his hands and twirling it around, trying to get the feel of it.

"I feel stupid," he said at last, the staff coming to a rest in his palm.

"No, you don't," came Daisy's voice from behind them. "You look stupid, holding it like that." She prowled up behind them, her eyes shining. Her badass look was ruined by her rustled hair that looked suspiciously like a rat's nest.

She stalked over to Joseph. "Hold it with both hands, one closer to the bottom, one just above the center of the staff." Joseph did as she said. "No, no, dominant hand on top."

"But I'm left-handed," Joseph protested.

Daisy's eyebrow raised. "Alright, then," she said. "You'll want to angle the staff toward your left hand, because that'll be your prominent swinging arc and it's easier to block strikes if you can get it sideways faster." Joseph followed her instructions. She pushed his feet wider apart. "Keep your center of balance low. Bend your knees."

When she was finished, Joseph held the staff firmly in his hands, angled slightly to the left. The orb on the end appeared to be significantly heavy. Joseph had rolled up the legs of his jeans, and his knees were bent.

"Now, for you," Daisy said to Zane. Zane started to mimic Joseph's stance, but Daisy shook her head. Zane straightened back up, his interest piqued. "You have shorter range weapons," Daisy began. "You need a nimbler stance, a high center of balance so you can move easily out of the way and get in close to your opponent. And it doesn't hurt to be able to roll out of the way, especially when facing a staff."

Zane's mind flashed back to the lengthy conversation they'd all had the day before. Daisy had told them she'd hunted with her father since she was a young girl. He also recalled her mentioning martial arts and combat classes.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face, and Zane realized he had zoned out. "Get on your toes," she demanded. Zane complied. "Hold your knives high. Staff users tend to favor the downward strike, so you have to be prepared to stop it." Zane raised the knives marginally higher, about shoulder level. "Good," she approved.

Then she backed up, and made a go on gesture. Joseph looked as apprehensive as Zane felt. Daisy rolled her eyes and snatched the staff from Joseph's hands. She prodded him out, jabbing him with the staff until he stepped off the mat.

"Now," she said casually, and swung the staff toward Zane's left side. The wooden shaft hit him in the side of the ribcage and he groaned. "Get your knives down there in time," she said, swinging for his other side. He lowered his arm, but the force of her strike pushed the knife into his side and the wood dug into his stomach. "Hold your ground."

Zane felt another impact, this time on his lower leg. It threatened to buckle underneath him. "Stop," Joseph pleaded from the sidelines. "You're gonna hurt him."

"How's he going to learn?" Daisy demanded, swinging for his left side again. He grunted with the effort but he stopped the dangerous staff with one of his knives. She nodded approval and retracted the staff, preparing to swing again.

This was a side of Daisy that Zane had never seen. This was not sleepy, Froot Loop time Daisy, this was hunt and kill Daisy. There was a dark look in her eyes and Zane suddenly got the feeling he was her prey. He was what she had spent the day stalking through the bush to find. She was the hunter, and he was the hunted.

He watched the staff descend, heading for his right side again.

This time, the knife caught the staff but slid down the shaft to the orb on the end, and the impact jarred Zane's hand. "Better," came Daisy's appraisal.

The next swing, Zane stopped the staff swing effectively. The impact made his fingers tingle but he didn't get a jab to the ribs, so he was content. As he revelled in his improvement, she reeled back for an overhead swing.

Zane raised his knives and used them both to stop the staff in midair. He spread them out, the further one nearing Daisy's hand. She raised her eyebrows.

Zane slipped the knives slightly, so the staff rested on the left blade of one and the right blade of another. Then he spread his arms apart, jerking the staff from Daisy's hands. It flipped through the air, sailing over Zane's head, leaving her defenseless. "Good," Daisy said, dusting her hands on her pants. "You handled the overhand very well." The staff skittered across the ground behind Zane.

Joseph patted him on the back. Zane was sweating and exhausted, and his ribs hurt. He clung onto the knives, expecting Daisy to unexpectedly launch an assault. He furrowed his brow. Would that still be unexpected?

All thoughts vanished from his brain as he witnessed the vicious duel between Mallory and Marcus.

When Zane looked over, Marcus was swinging his katana downward at a vicious speed. Mallory countered it by catching it in the chains of the nunchucks. Marcus kicked at her underneath the sword, and the chain slipped, freeing the weapon. Mallory was already gone when he swung down again. She had ducked to the side and thrown one of the nunchuk handles around his ankle. She caught both handles in the same hand and pulled.

Marcus's leg was swept out from underneath him. He fell to the ground, landing with a grunt, his sword raised above him to defend a blow. Mallory struck down at him, swinging the nunchucks down. They wrapped around the sword and she pulled, but Marcus held firmly to his weapon. He used her force to pull him to his feet and swing the sword to the side, trying to wrench the nunchucks from her grip.

Daisy watched with keen admiration as Mallory ducked to the side once again, this time wrapping the nunchuk handle around his wrist. She jerked them to the side, grabbing his upper arm with her free hand. She twisted, wrenching his arm. He dropped the sword in pain, and she kicked it away.

"Ha!" she yelled. "I am triumphant! I have ascended to the level of a god!" She paraded around him, swinging the nunchucks around her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

Marcus swept her legs out and she tumbled down beside him with a yelp. He grinned. "Your enemy was weaponless, not dead or unconscious. Don't flaunt your victory."

She stuck out her tongue as she clambered to her feet. Marcus laughed wholeheartedly, straightening his shirt. They placed their weapons back on the shelf. Zane proceeded to do so too as soon as he was confident Daisy would not attack him.

"Well, that was fun," Joseph said. He wrung his hands out, as they walked from the room.

"Sure was," Zane responded sarcastically. Marcus proceeded straight to the kitchen, presumably to cook something. Mallory headed to the washroom. And Daisy, of course, headed for her room to take a nap. Joseph and Zane took up seats in the sitting area.

"Daisy is wicked with a staff," Joseph pointed out, glancing at her door. Again, there was the pang of jealousy that twisted Zane's guts and sent butterflies into his stomach.

"Wicked, indeed," Zane responded, massaging his bruised ribs.

Joseph peered at him curiously. "Why'd you pick the deer horn knives?" he asked, sounding genuinely intrigued. He crossed his arms, not threateningly, and his shirt hugged his upper body. Zane wanted to rip it off.

Zane's eyes widened. What sort of urge was that? It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was accompanied by a swell of affection and desire, and he struggled to retain his composure, his gaze flicking continuously to the other boy's chest.

"I don't know," Zane said. "I guess I just wanted to stand out. I didn't want to take any old staff or sword, I wanted to be unique, something I never got the privilege to do in New Vancouver." He looked downward.

"And deer horn knives struck you as unique?"

"Yeah. And they looked very elegant."

Joseph chuckled, earning a scoff from Zane. "What are you laughing at?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing. The other boy rolled down his jeans to their regular length and grinned at him. "What?" Zane said again.

"Elegant and unique. Two words I never would have associated with you when I met you," he said. Zane looked for any hint of mockery and sarcasm in Joseph's eyes, but found nothing of the sort. Instead, he saw admiration and trust. "Maybe there are some things I don't yet know about you, Zane Morrison, but I intend to figure them out." The way he said it sent a shiver down Zane's spine.

"You do, do you?" Zane asked incredulously.

"I do. And perhaps there are some things you don't know about me," he said, resting a hand on Zane's shoulder.

"Perhaps there are, Joseph Romanson. Perhaps there are."

Joseph's hand lingered on Zane's shoulder longer than he expected.