The City - PewdieCry

13: Combat

 "Thank you, Cry."

The words echoed in my brain the whole way home. No doubt I was exhausted to all hell, and I certainly did not expect to conduct a training session with Pewds. I had fled the building after some arguing with the veterans. They claimed that Wilson was being too strict about our gunpowder supply, and Matt had only tried to defend him. The arguing itself was enough to set me off; I hadn't slept properly in days. I wandered outdoors and found myself in my favorite spot in the entire city. The park was a clean place, and the willow trees were by far the most gorgeous part.

Pewds scared me to death by showing up. I had been whittling, focusing on my own thoughts; I wasn't prepared. I knew the times when the scout groups of the other gangs would approach the neutral territory, and I was well aware that the last groups had gone in for the night. Pewds showed up spontaneously, alone, and showered in bruises and blood. The sight alone nearly made me fall from my perch. His story about the other boys bullying him simply made me want to march in M's HQ and beat the shit out of them, but I knew better. That would be a suicide mission in itself, but the anger was barely fading from me hours later.

The only thing that kept me from exploding had been Pewds. He had never fought hand to hand in his life, which stunned me. I, along with others my age, had been taught since we could walk. I wanted him to know, and so I taught him everything that my father taught me, starting with basics and working on balance; those were my least strongest suits. The determination in his blue eyes when he left, the courage that took over his voice, and the promise that he made me smoothed my thoughts down. I knew he would do as I asked, or at least try. For what it was worth, I wouldn't have spent my night any other way.

As I caught sight of my HQ, I began to wonder if any of the younger members were taught hand to hand combat. I didn't recall ever going over it with them, and I knew the older members had strictly been relying on guns since we'd sent scouts outside the city for gunpowder. Those expeditions had to stop, though; we started gaining injured soldiers rather quickly that way. We would have to rely on what we had while it was still there, but our supplies would deplete swiftly; hence the argument of last night.

I walked inside, finding breakfast in full swing. There was laughter from the lower members, and the higher ones. Matt was walking around and checking on everyone, but avoiding the veterans in the corner as they mumbled and glared at the back of his head. Once I walked in, all fell quiet, and I glared around. My eyes met everyone's, resting on Wilson's last, and he looked at me with an absent expression. He'd been defending out gunpowder source, and the vets had called him out, saying he was being too harsh. Poor Wilson, he didn't deserve the treatment they gave him; and I was only here to fuck up their attitudes even further.

"I want everyone outside as soon as breakfast is over. I mean everyone, no exceptions." I snapped, and then turned on heel and stormed towards the basement and Wilson's area. He followed me in as I walked down the stairs, searching through the stuff we had piled in a room in the very back.

"Cry, what the hell are you doing?" Wilson demanded, and I looked around more, ignoring him. I found what I was looking for seconds later, and worked at dislodging it from the pile of things around it. "Cry, be careful-!" Wilson shouted as I yanked, hard. Several things came toppling down, but I stood. I pulled the bag the rest of the way out, and dragged the stake behind me. I walked back through the lobby, ignoring the whispers and questions as to what I was doing. I walked outside, setting the stake up away from the door and pulling the old punching bag into place. I used this a long time ago to free my anger from my father, and now I would use it to teach.

Slowly and unsurely everyone gathered outside. I turned to face them, welcoming the warm sun and gritting my teeth. I lined everyone up in terms of age, and started at the younger end, bringing up the youngest boy we had. He stood by the bag as instructed, trying to appear brave although it wasn't too hard to see he was nervous.