Saving Humanity

Chapter Ten: Knives

Chapter Ten: Knives

Jared

That afternoon, our first session with Sgt. Agustin is about knife-throwing. We are in a classroom where five targets are plastered to the black boards. A line is drawn in the middle of the floor to mark where we need to stand. In front of it is a table with throwing knives sprawled on top of it.

Holly and I stayed in the football field for about an hour before we prepare ourselves for this class. We change into fresh clothes and went down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. After that we went straight to the football field again where Sgt. Agustin is waiting for us. She then leads us to this classroom where we will be conducting our first class.

Sgt. Agustin is standing beside the table full of throwing knives, her back at the targets. She seems to be counting our heads to make sure that we are complete. After a moment she speaks up. "Where's the blonde girl?"

Everyone looks around, noticing for the first time that we are only fourteen instead of fifteen.

Someone clears his throat and speaks. "Hindi na raw po tutuloy sa training si Sarah." The boy who spoke has a shock of curly, black hair, a couple of inches taller than me and his big, black eyes are staring unflinchingly at Sgt. Agustin. "Mukhang hindi niya raw po kakayanin ang physical training."

Sgt. Agustin just nods. "Very well. Anyone else who wants to leave this class?"

Her gaze sweeps around the room. When no one speaks or raises their hands, Sgt. Agustin lets out a satisfied smirk. "Let's start."

An uneasy silence spreads all around us. Out of all the fourteen remaining members of this class, ten are boys. Yet, no matter how small Sgt. Agustin seems compared to us, we are still intimidated by her. She is a woman of power, one that needs to be respected.

And feared.

I just hope that she won't get in the way of us in getting information about the extra-terrestrial beings. I don't want to face her off. She's a force to be reckoned with.

I wonder, does she know what our government is up to? Does she know that the President was the one who let those damn bastard aliens in our backyard in the first place?

I doubt it.

"The first thing you have to do when it comes to knife-throwing," Sgt. Agustin starts. All of us snaps to attention. "Is to find the right knife for you." She gestures to the various assortments of knives in the table. She picks one up, a sharp blade with a simple, black hilt. She tests the knife's weight in her hands, eyeing us while doing so.

"The knife's weight must feel comfortable in your hands. Not too light as it may fly out of your hands prematurely before you even throw it properly, and not too heavy, as it may land on the ground before even reaching your target," Sgt. Agustin says, pacing in front of us. Then she goes back to her earlier position, in front of one of the targets. Her back is to us, the tips of her shoes barely touching the lines drawn in front of her.

She puts her left foot in front of her, and she braces her right foot backwards. Her right hand holds the knife with a firm grip.

"Put your weight on your dominant leg, and rest your non-dominant foot in front of you," Sgt. Agustin instructs without looking back at us. "Your knife must be on your dominant hand, positioned at your eye level." She demonstrates the right stance, and we make a mental note of it. Holly watches with intent eyes, memorizing every position of the legs, hands, and feet.

Sgt. Agustin does some test motions, bending her right elbow, her hands leveled with her head. Then she swings. I take all of these motions with curiosity. Her motions are smooth, and I can't help but admire her graceful and fluid body.