The War Inside (Book 1)

16

               Hal and Ian stood shoulder to shoulder after their warm up in the training room, facing Gilde and Thurston. Hal thought Ian had already started training, but it turned out today was his first official day. Until then, he had only been allowed to do general exercises, waiting for Hal or Kylian to get better first.
              
It was just them four in the room along with Kent on the other side training with the punching bags. Gilde cleared his throat and held up a knife.
              
“That’s a knife,” Ian said matter-of-factly.
              
“Well spotted,” Gilde said a second later, unblinking. “You’ll learn to throw this in all lethal ways possible, and as you get better, we’ll teach you techniques on using different types of blades. Forget hitting bull’s-eye, you won’t be let out of this room until the blade hits the target.”
              
Thurston smiled at Ian’s skeptical expression. “It’s simple enough. We’re starting with the easiest, so don’t worry.” He shrugged. “We would have started with some defense and combat, but then Hal, you still need to heal more for that.” Thurston walked over to Hal and placed a knife in his hand.
              
Hal hesitated in closing his fingers around it, feeling the heavy coldness of the blade. It had been a long time since he had consciously held any weapon with the sole purpose of attacking or defending, or learning to do so, for that matter.
              
He held it by the handle like Gilde did. Gilde swiftly threw it at the target board on the far side of the room, his eyes on Ian. The blade struck the edge of the center circle without wobbling, embedded deep. Hal guessed they must have been standing at least twenty-two feet from it.
              
Ian gasped while Hal watched with reminiscent awe. “It’s just like in the movies,” Ian whispered.
              
“You’ll reach there,” Gilde assured, pushing Hal and Ian in front of their targets, some ten feet from them.
              
“We’re too far,” Ian said.
              
“Nope.” Gilde turned to the box of knives next to Hal and pointed at the one next to Ian. “I’ve mixed some knives in here: balanced, handle-heavy, and blade-heavy. No matter where the heaviness is, you hold the lighter end and throw the heavier one.” He motioned to the knife in Hal’s hand. “That’s balanced. Weight on either end is the same. The one I’m holding though, is handle-heavy.”
              
Explaining as he went, he gripped the knife by the blade, the thumb on the spine, calling it the hammer grip, and holding it vertically, he threw the knife once again, this time onto Ian’s target, once again demonstrating why Gilde was called the trainer.
              
“This technique gives you a stronger throw. Let’s start with this one and later on, I’ll teach you some other methods.” He patted Ian’s shoulder. “Let’s go you two. Give it a try. Just remember, you throw the weight.”
              
Hal nodded and glanced down at his balanced knife, mimicking the stance Gilde held and soon, Ian and Hal were chucking knives at the target. Although Hal managed to hit the board, he still wasn’t getting the hang of throwing it, feeling awkward most of the time. Unlike him, Ian had a better control of his actions and was able to perfectly mimic the Train duo’s actions.
              
At one point, Thurston ended up watching Hal with a frown and decided there was no way Hal was going to improve without intervening. Hal had to refrain from yelling at Thurston that maybe he should have stepped in earlier, knowing that Thurston would just shoot back with “you should have asked for help if you needed it.”
              
“Hal,” he said, moving towards him so that they were touching shoulders. “I’ve watched you and figured out what you might be doing wrong…which is your dominant leg?”
              
“My right.”
              
“Then stand so that your left is facing the target.” When Hal changed his position, Thurston continued. “Now, knife in your right , which you’re already doing, bring it up to just behind your ear,” when Hal made the adjustments, he added, “a little behind your ear, also—yes, perfect.”
              
Hal nodded. “Okay.”
              
“Now, throw it by moving your right shoulder a bit forward, and push a little with your back leg.” He demonstrated while he explained. He repeated the movements a few times before going on and saying, “let go before your hand is straight once again, and make sure your wrist is straight all the time. Put some energy into it.”
              
Hal followed what Thurston said, and as Hal had expected, he did better now, though he had a lot more to go before he hit where he wanted to. He scoffed and shook his head. “You could have stepped in earlier.”
              
Thurston smiled and nudged him. “Well, to help you, I need to know where you needed help. And since you don’t know what you’re doing or where you need the help, I had to wait and see.”
              
“Your Pops taught you all this?”
              
“He raised me, along with Dr. Rajiv and Hazel later. Of course, he taught me everything there is to know about combat.”
              
Hal nodded and glanced down at the next knife Thurston placed in Hal’s hand. “If I’m not crossing a line, would you tell what you father did before all of this? How come he knows so much about fighting? He must know at least sixteen ways to kill someone with a knife.”