Duck Season...

The merest hint of a sliding footstep and the slight change in air pressure behind me was all the warning I had as I ducked down and rolled to my left to avoid the thunderous blow from my would be assailant. The staff of my attacker slammed into the small table I had been about to put my drink on. The table shattered in dozens of pieces as my cup went flying. I cursed as I saw the thick warm blood splatter all over the floor, but didn’t have much time to gather myself.

I used the rapidly approaching wall to shift my balance and spring back up with my batons in hand.

The staff whistled in for another crack at my head only to be caught in my crossed batons and redirected into the floor. I lashed out my right baton, aiming for the crippling bunch of nerves in the middle of the thigh of my attacker, but he anticipated the blow and twisted the staff down to deflect my counterattack.

My second blow, however, found its mark. My left baton thwacked solidly into my opponents right forearm with just enough pressure to cause him to release his grip on the staff with that hand in reflex as his fingers twitched in agony.

He grunted in pain and stepped back. He twirled the staff in his left hand deflecting my attempt at a finishing flurry of blows as he retreated.

I knew I didn’t have much time before he regained feeling in his right hand, so I stepped into the attack with the goal of finishing him off quickly. I lashed out towards the middle of the staff, where he had shifted his grip to, aiming for the knuckles with both batons in succession.

He practically threw the staff at me before my blows could land and pushed his heavy bulk inside the range of my attacks and crashing into me.

His weight threw me off balance enough to send the both of us tumbling to the ground with him top, at least initially.

I dropped my left baton and used that hand to give his forward momentum a push. I followed that up with a twisting roll that left me sitting astride his heaving chest.

“That was pretty good, Jim. I almost didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

Jim punched my thigh with his left hand. “Get up off of me you prick! You’re too damn heavy to sit on me. You’ll give me a heart attack.”

I laughed as I obliged his request by standing up. I tapped my remaining baton closed and holstered before reaching out my hand to help him up.

Jim reached up to pull his helmet off before wiping the sweat from his brow with his left sleeve.

“You don’t have to humor me, Rusty, I know that I still suck at fighting. I’m just hoping to get good enough to keep from being a liability out there. I’ve been pretty lucky so far, but I’ve never been a fan of trusting to chance.”

“Jim, you are getting a lot better at this. You really did take me by surprise. Considering all of that protective gear, you did a damn good job of sneaking up on me. Next time though, don’t hesitate to take your shot when you have one.”

He nodded. “I’m still leery. This new body of yours isn’t as impervious as your old one.”

I moved across the room to grab a towel from the shelving unit and went to wipe up the thick, viscous blood that had spilled from my cup.

“Yeah, I’m still adjusting to this whole thing too. If these training sessions are going to be of any real use though, you really have to throw caution to the wind. Trust me, there’s no real harm that you can do me that won’t heal up in a day or two. I’ve got the fresh scars to prove that it is almost impossible to do any lasting harm to this body.”

He shook his head as he bent down with a grunt to pick up his staff and my other baton. “I know that intellectually, but…” He shrugged as he stood back up to his full height. He was several inches taller than me.

I tossed the bloody towel into a nearby bin before walking over to collect my baton from him. “That’s why we need to keep up with these impromptu training sessions. When the time comes, you will need to be able to act without hesitation.” I clapped him on the shoulder as we walked out of the training studio. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

“I still can’t get used to you needing to eat.”

“Tell me about it…”