Blade's Redemtion

“Again, Computer.” Blade said, standing in a pitch-black room. Sweat poured off his tired body. His rock hard muscles quivered and jerked under his skin from fatigue. He brought his hands up to his martial arts guard, pausing to wipe sweat off his forehead. His blond hair was soaked and matted down with sweat. He was shirtless and had on his fatigue pants held in place by a black leather belt. On his feet were his usual steel-toed combat boots. “Sir, you must have rest! You’ve been at it for over three hours!” a female voice said. “Again, Computer.” He said, in the same monotone as earlier. The voice sighed. “Very well, commencing.” Suddenly, Blade was in a darkened alley. His steel blue eyes took in the sights quickly. Blue dumpster two yards away to his right. High red brick walls on each side, multiple side lanes lead into the ally, Trashcan fire burning to his left, a cool breeze brought with it the smell of the dumpster and the trashcan fire. Blade still stood, waiting and listening. 1

(Their!) His eyes shifted to the nearest lane. Men running towards him, lots of men, their shoes pounding on the filthy asphalt, getting closer. Blade readied himself. Breathe! He took a deep breath, shifted his right foot forward and his left foot back, Bringing his guard up again. (Remember, let the strikes present themselves and don’t forget to use the environment!) He told himself. Three men, dressed in hoodies and jeans rounded the corner. They were of average built and height of well-built nineteen year olds. Five more came out of the lane on Blade’s left. Eight opponents. (No! Don’t think like that! Let them strike first! ) “Hey you! Old man! What you doin’ back here!” One of the Hoods, He was wearing a red hoodie, addressed him. Blade caught a slight Bronx accent. “Nothing.” Blade replied, slowly, not dropping his guard. “Yea? Well, you’re a long way from Wall Street.” (Do I look like a guy who trades stocks for a living you dumb shit?) Blade thought, Aloud he said. “Am I now?” He said. “Yeah Wall Street. You know what I think?” The hood said, pulling a switchblade out of his pocket. (Think defusing first, No need to take out all of them, Pick your battles carefully.) “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you that you shouldn’t do it.” Blade said. Preparing himself again. “Empty your pockets Wall Street.” Red hood said. “Don’t do it.” Blade said. Red hood started walking to him, flipping the knife open as he did. “What? You gonna stop me Wall Street?” Red hood asked. (Two more steps, and you are mine!) Blade thought. Red hood had white skater shoes on; the grime from the roads had made them a soft grey. Left, Right.2

“Yes.” Blade said. Faster than Greased lighting his right hand shot out, seizing Red’s wrist the one that held the knife. Then he deftly flipped it over, making Red’s grip on the knife weaker. With his left, Blade pushed on the underside of Red’s hand. Making him drop the knife. Before Red Hoodie kid could even recover from dropping the knife. Blade drew up his left into a fist and gave the kid a massive haymaker punch to the face. Blade could barely stifle a smile as he felt his scarred knuckles crack the kid’s jaw. Red’s eyes rolled back up into his head, Blade let go of his wrist allowing him to spin around under the power of his punch. (One down, seven to go.) Two more jumped at him. Blade jumped, spinning slightly as he did so. Propelling his right combat booted foot into the one on the right first. Blade carried on, catching the other one with the same kick before crashing them into the brick wall. Another one tried his luck, trying a straight in punch for Blade’s face. Blade blocked, grabbed the kid’s wrist, pulling out to keep it from retracting. He brought his left elbow down just before the kid’s elbow, breaking his arm. When he doubled over, grasping his arm in pain. Blade grabbed the back of his head and swept his feet out from under him with a swift kick, effortlessly performing a facecrusher. Another one jumped in, Blade crouched low and swept his legs, a move that would only temporarily bring him out of the fight for a moment, only the back of his head caught the dumpster on the way down. Three more ran at Blade, who brought himself back to his full height and waited. Suddenly, the whole thing froze. The kids stopped in mid-stride, the look of hate still frozen in their eyes. 3

“What now Computer?” Blade said, dropping his guard and looking frustrated. “Sir, you have a visitor. She’s outside in the lobby now, I’ve never seen her before but she says that you offered to take her to dinner.” The voice said. Blade growled, denting the dumpster with a punch. “ Is she a redhead?” He asked. “Uh, Yes sir.” Blade punched the dumpster again, mumbling, “I knew I’d forget.” He said, walking around the alley idling. “Shall I send her away sir?” The disembodied voice asked. Blade sighed.” No, end simulation. Send my scores to my Blackberry for review; send a copy to Pooky’s too.” He said. “Very well.” The voice said. The alley way faded away back into the black room. A stain less steel robotic arm came out of one of the tiles holding a white towel. Blade took it and started to dry himself. (This is what I get for a Challenge workout every Friday.) He thought. “Computer?” He asked. “Yes sir?” “How long have I been in here?” He asked. “Four hours since three today, It’s now eight, sir.” The voice quipped. Blade threw the towel down to the tile, which retracted into the ground, bringing up his uniform. Blade buttoned the green top quickly. He walked straight ahead as select tile lit up, showing him the way to the door. He pushed the door open. 4

The light almost blinded him as he stepped out. He was hot, smelly and tired; all he wanted to do was go home and take a shower then sleep it off. (I knew I should’ve just won the Running of the Bachelors two weeks ago.) He thought. The simulator he just came out of was the last in a football field long hallway of them. Pooky and he shared that one; it was the only one that could take their Bio-augmented strength without them breaking it all the time, although it still required lots of maintenance. At the far end of the hallway was the main computer who sent the scores from all the simulators onto a giant plasma screen at the waiting room. The tech that managed the Sims was responsible for everyone in all twenty of the Sim rooms. “You did great today, sir.” The tech said, wide set man with a ponytail. He couldn’t be more than four feet tall, barely tall enough to look over his white corner desk. Blade towered over him. “Thanks. That third one nearly had me, Jim.” Blade said, smiling. He liked the roly-poly tech, and knew him better than most who came through the simulators. God knows Blade spent a lot of time their. The tech smiled, showing a few gold teeth. “Yeah? You like it? I made it off of an old Jet Lee movie. That took me three weeks to program and you beat it in ten minutes. You and Captain Pooky are the only ones to still have a perfect track record here.” He said. “Yeah? Well keep trying, you’ll dream one up that’ll beat me one day.” Blade said. The tech shook his head, his double chin waddling. “No way, sir, I’ve thrown hundreds of people at you at once at max difficulty and you just beat them all down and asked for more.” The tech said. “Keep on raising the bar, Jim. Listen, I’ve gotta go. See you Monday!” Blade said, turning to run his pass card through the door lock and walk out. “Yeah, see you!” The tech said before turning his attention back to the other sims. Out in the main hallway, Blade took a right, passing several armed guards that patrolled the twenty-acre complex. Sliding his pass card through several more locked doors before he reached the lobby. Access to the lobby itself was as far as most civilians and dependants got into the complex without clearance from a member. Standing near the door looking rather nervous was his date. Blade tried to fix his matted hair with minimum success. Her name was Jen; she was twenty-five and a secretary at a Law firm in downtown Salt lake city. Her red hair rippled down her back like a waterfall. She was the one who had “chased” him down two weeks ago in the running of the bachelors. She was wearing a simple black dress with a vee in the back just low enough to suggest that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She had two golden earrings on and black high heels. This was their first date, not counting the running of the bachelors. She smiled as she saw Blade approach. He smiled, looking to the floor like a child caught for putting a tack on teacher’s chair. “Sorry, I ran a little late.” He said. “Let me guess, a challenge workout in the simulator?” She said, putting a slender hand on his broad shoulder. “Yeah.” He said, groaning as he stretched. “Man, I’m exhausted, you’re gonna have to carry me.” He said, leaning heavily against her. She laughed as she struggled to control his weight. “Easy, easy. Listen, why don’t you go home and take a shower and meet me at the restaurant? I’ll get us a table.” She said. Blade took his weight off her. “Alright, but could you give me a ride home? Pooky’s probably gonna be really mad after he finds out how bad I trounced him in the simulator.” She faked a pout. “I don’t know, you might stink up my car.” She said. “Aww, come on, you’re not gonna let me sleep under my desk tonight are you?” He said, laughing. “I guess not, your stench would make the janitors pass out.” She said, leading him out the door. 5

It was a ten-minute drive to Blade’s apartment in downtown Salt Lake. As he showered, She walked around the roomy apartment, studying it. She looked at all the pictures on the walls, most were pictures of Blade on assignments all over the world. But a few had him with his late wife, Julia and his two girls. It was rather well kept and neat for a bachelor’s apartment, the floor was swept clean and everything was where it needed to be. She picked up one of the picture. Blade was holding his twin girls in his strong arms on a beach. The smile on his and their faces really made the picture. “Sorry, I really should’ve told you when you caught me.” He said. He had changed into a blue collared shirt and canvas slacks. She put the picture down quickly with a thump. “No, I should be sorry. Sneaking around your place.” He waved her off, saying. “No, it’s alright. I would’ve done the same thing…” He tapered off as he looked at the picture as if in a trance. She broke the trance. “Look, we’re already twenty minutes late. Whose car? Yours or mine?” He snapped his eyes away. “I’ll drive if you don’t mind.” He said, slipping his feet into brown loafers as he followed her out the door. 6

After dinner, when the scotch he’d been drinking steadily since they got to the Italian themed restaurant soaked in he began to feel himself loosening up. “When I caught you last week, I saw that patch on your shoulder. The bear, what does that mean?” She asked. Blade studied her hard before he started. “Listen, what I’m about to tell you no one outside of HQ has ever heard.” He said, leaning back against his chair. “When I was through basic training here, the Commander had a brilliant plan to make HQ better than any other merc group. It was an amazing surgery, but incredibly risky, he put a sign-up sheet up in the recruit barracks and I signed up. So the knocked me out, added a stimulant to my muscles and lased my bones with steel and iron. They tore out my veins and made them larger. They even wove a bulletproof vest under my ribcage. The surgery had a twenty percent chance that you lived through it. A ten percent chance that you could even live for a few years. A five percent chance that you’d live your life normally.” He paused to take a swig from his scotch. “I woke up with my whole body screaming in pain. It took me two months of bed rest to get to a point where I could walk again. Pooky and I were the only ones who survived the surgery. At first it was difficult to blend into normal life.” He paused again. “How so?” She asked. “Our brains were still used to our average strength, they didn’t know that the muscles had suddenly gotten stronger. We couldn’t shake people’s hands without crushing them. We couldn’t pick up glasses and mugs without shattering them, Couldn’t lace up our boots without tearing the laces off, We couldn’t even throw a football back to a kid in a park without pitching it through him. It took a lot of work and practice to learn how to do everything again. I felt like a freak, especially when I was in a restaurant like this I’d go to pick up a glass and I’d feel like I was just barely grasping it when it shattered. That got me a whole bunch of strange looks from the diners and the staff. I was the only guy in the place doing shots through a straw.” He laughed, and then became more serious. “I don’t expect you to do anything but call me a freak and storm out. They usually do.” He finished. Needless to say, she was a little taken aback by his story, but she knew he liked her enough to tell her it. She put a hand on his. “Why would I do that?” She said softly. “You’re strong, quick witted and funny. I can’t see any reason to leave. Just tell me one more thing.” She asked. “What happened to your first wife?” Blade took a deep breath. “I met Julia on an assignment through HQ, we were inseparable. We got married shortly after. Two months after that she was pregnant. We had twin girls and life was perfect. Then it happened.” Blade winced, a tear running down his cheek. “Some sick bastard raided my house, killed my wife and took my two girls. By the time I tracked him down it was too late, both of my girls were dead.” His arm flexed with rage. “I was too late.” He said softly. “But you caught him right? He’s in jail.” She said. He looked up at her and she caught the rage in his steel blue eyes and she knew. “Never mind, forget I said that.” She said. Blade brought his head back up. “No, It had to be asked. By the time I more or less got over that I had turned into a crusty old bachelor, Pooky asked me to run with him in the Running of the Bachelors and I did, and you caught me. I’m a surgically mutated thirty-five year old runaway and widow; I’ve seen death on almost a regular basis for seventeen years of that and I have no idea what I’ll do next.” Blade took a deep breath, “Sorry, I was being bitter their. So enough about me. Tell me about you.” He said. 7

“Wow, how could I even top that? Let me think, I’m twenty-five. Born and raised in Salt Lake, Skiing every winter before I could walk and I live to cook and run.” She paused to think. “That’s pretty much me.” She said, smiling. The waiter finally arrived with dessert, ending the conversation. 8

He dropped her off at her car and parked beside her. He leaned against Gun Runner’s ragtop. “Say, I know it’s late but, ah, you want to come in for coffee or something?” He said. Her heart leapt in her chest. (Should I?) She thought. “Sure, I could use some coffee.” 9

The next morning, still in bed, Jen nuzzled his chest. He was still sleeping, her hair on his lips blowing up with every breath he let out. With a slender finger, she traced the three bullet holes on his chest, then the knife scar that ran down from his clavicle to the first bullet hole. All three bullets would have killed most men, but the bulletproof vest he talked about last night must have stopped them. The lovemaking had been gentle yet fierce (and Jesus was he strong! He wasn’t joking about the bio-augmentation. I’ll never be the same again!) She thought, but she liked it. She wanted to keep seeing him, to fill the void in his life. “Keep asking me back.” She whispered to him. 10

That Monday was business as usual for Blade, Three o’clock on the dot he checked into the simulator. He passed Pooky on his way in, who caught his arm. “Hey, How’d your date go last Friday?” He said. Blade looked at him quizzically. “Good?” He answered slowly, and then tried to dodge into the simulator. Pooky yanked him out before the door closed. “C’mon, you can tell me.” Pooky lowered his shades to stare at Blade with his blue and green eyes. “You did her right?” He asked, (always straightforward and bluntly to the point.) “Yes.” Blade said, remembering. “You wear a condom?” Pooky asked. At this Blade became slightly annoyed. He was late for his simulator workout. “Why’s it matter to you huh?” He snapped. Pooky looked at him quizzically. “You didn’t get that memo?” He said. Now Blade forgot about the simulator. “What memo? I didn’t see anything when I checked my mail this morning.” He said. Pooky punched him in the shoulder. “No, Back when we first got the surgery, remember?” Blade rolled his eyes. “No.” He drew it out. “Why, they messin’ with our junk?” He said, joking. “Uh, yeah actually, we drew the short straws remember? They took our sperm and added something to them that makes them stronger and able to produce warriors like us without the surgery and,” He pulled a blue booklet with the word BEAR in capital gold letters, he paged through it quickly. “Their, See? They’ve even been developed to eat their way through latex. 99 point 9 percent effective.” Blade’s eyes popped. “Oh, shit.” He mumbled. Pooky thumped the book against Blade’s chest. “Good luck, Casanova. Maybe you should read the fine print sometime.” Pooky ran off, barely able to contain his laughter. Blade started on the front page. This is what was on it. 11

GOTCHA! YOU SHOULD’VE SEEN THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE! 12

Pooky. 13