The Unwanted

Chapter 12- Training

Chapter 12- Training Part 1

We arrived at an area enclosed by a high brick wall topped with broken glass and razor wire. The two wooden gates hung open. From the other side of the road, you could see the tottering piles of rusty and broken cars. Everything of any value had been stripped away and only the rusting carcasses remained, heaped one on top of the other, waiting to be fed into the crusher. Anthony and I stood in the centre of the scrap and wrecked appliances and parts.

"Alex." Anthony asked, "why did you bring me here?"

"I need your help with some training," I said.

"Training?" He said confused, "do you mean like when you asked me to teach you judo?"

"No," I laughed fondly remembering the old times, "it's a lot more urgent."

"Sure," He replied, "what do you need?"

"Help me grab an empty bottle, a knife, bolts from a car wheel, a hex nut, a pump, preferably a car pump, pliers, scrap pieces of cloth, a couple of pipes and the tap to go with it, Sellotape or duct tape, cardboard, a pen and paper, and finally a nail." I listed.

"That's a lot of stuff." He pointed out, "What are you planning to do with all that?"

"I'll explain in a minute," I responded, "we don't have much time."

Anthony and I hunted through the scraps in the junkyard for similar materials. After about half an hour of searching, we had gathered all the materials necessary.

"So, what's going on?" He asked as I began to tinker with the materials, "why do you need all this stuff?"

"I..." I stuttered, "have a fight I need to prepare for."

"A fight?" He asked, "with who?"

"Not sure," I answered as I made a small hole in the bottom of the empty bottle using the knife.

"When?" He continued to question.

"Around 7.30pm today," I responded as I placed the car wheel bolt inside the bottle and passed it through the small hole.

"Why can't you just avoid it?" He questioned.

"I want to. I want to run away and forget it exists. I want to forget about all the pain and consequences. But if I run, someone important to me will get hurt," I answered as I placed the cloth over the bolt and tightened it with hex nuts using the rusted pliers.

"Call the police?" He suggested.

"They wouldn't believe me," I replied as I cut a rectangular hole in the pipes.

"Is this why you've been acting weird all day?" He interrogated.

"Kind of," I stated, "I'm trying to find a way to protect everyone. But I feel myself getting backed up into a wall. Every option I can think of leads to the same or worse conclusion. This training is my last hope of saving yo... the people I care about."

"Can I come back you up?" He requested.

"To be honest, I'd prefer if you didn't," I said as I taped a piece of paper around the pipe, "but I know that wasn't a question."

"Damn right it wasn't," he replied, "whether you want me there or not, I'm coming to back you up. Always."

I smiled.

I will not let you die, and I won't let those guys take Emma.

I attached the pipe, which I had cut a rectangular hole into, to the pipe with the tap. Then I attached the empty bottle to one side of the pipe and wrapped tape around it, to make sure it was secure. I covered the rectangular hole in the pipe with the paper I had wrapped around it previously but made sure it was easy for it to slide off and on the rectangular hole.

I took the pen and rolled it up with a piece of paper, then taped the end of the pen. I bent the paper with the pen in it and taped it to the paper on the rectangular hole. This made a handle to easily pull or push the paper to cover the rectangular hole.

"Wow, you really are a genius." Anthony joked, "are you trying to build a bomb?"

"Nah of course not," I replied. "I made a gun."

"How'd you know how to make that?" He asked sarcastically.

"I'm improvising with what I believed we'd be able to find here. I'm just using my knowledge of pressurised, compressed air," I responded. "The tap acts as the trigger. It releases all the compressed air that is pumped into the bottle using the car pump. This air propels a pen at high speeds out the end of the tube."

"Wait..." He stuttered, "you're not joking. You can't be seriously thinking of killing these guys with a gun, are you?"

"Nah, I don't think I could even if I tried," I replied, "the worst this 'gun' can do is impale you slightly"

"So, what do you plan on using the 'gun' for?" He asked.

"Training," I replied as I taped curved pieces of paper to the back of a pen.

"What kind of training?" He asked confused.

"All you have to do is shoot it at me," I said with a smile.

10 more hours till Anthony's death.