100-Days-in-Deadland(29)

Jase clapped. “Looking good, Cash.”

“Now come at me,” Clutch said.

My eyes widened, and I held up the tanto. “With a knife?”

He chuckled. “I’ve been watching you. I’m not worried.”

My attack was hesitant, and he scowled. “Damn it, Cash. You can do better than that.”

My next attack wasn’t much better, but as I got more and more aggressive, Clutch had to work at avoiding me.

“Better,” he said. “But you need to remember that evasion should always be your first choice. If you’re forced into an attack, defensive maneuvers are more important than taking the offensive. Zeds will come at you with their teeth and hands. Looters and common criminals will be worse because they can think and use weapons.”

The next time I attacked, Clutch swung out, and I barely jumped out of the way in time. I was thrown off balance, and he knocked me down with a kick from behind.

“You’re relying too much on your weapon. Put it away, and focus on your body. You need to be able to protect yourself using just your hands and whatever is readily available.”

I sheathed the blade and spent the next hour alternating between getting my ass handed to me and watching Jase get his ass handed to him by a seasoned military vet. I was on the ground more than I was on my feet. Clutch was relentless. Once, I nearly got the upper hand with a self-defense kick to his knee, but he jumped back before my foot connected. In return, I got a well-placed hit to my solar plexus.

I collapsed to the ground next to Jase and sucked in air.

Clutch took a seat on the grass next to us and rubbed his shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll head a few miles out and practice shooting.”

“I can shoot,” Jase quickly offered up.

“What’s your weapon?” Clutch countered.

“I’m a decent shot with a rifle. I’ve hunted both deer and ducks before.”

“Well then, we’ll see what you can do,” Clutch said.

I laid back on the soft grass, staring up at the clouds. Lying there, I realized that even though Clutch was no longer on active duty, he’d never really left the military. He was a Ranger—he had to be one of the best in my mind—and I think that was how he defined himself. Though I suspected his nightmares came from the tours he’d served. Driving the truck, farming, those were just jobs. Clutch was a soldier. He worked out every day as though he were still in the military. And now he expected the same from Jase and me.

Every part of me felt bruised, while Clutch wasn’t even breathing heavily, though I knew his joints ached at the end of each long day. Cracking my neck, I glanced at Clutch who was cleaning his nails with his knife. I noticed his nose had a bump from where it had been broken.

Under his gruff exterior, I could tell he was fiercely protective of me and now Jase. Clutch would’ve made a great father, that was, if he could’ve tamed his militant ways. Then I realized, for all I knew, he was a father. “You have any kids? A wife? Girlfriend, maybe?”

The knife paused, and he looked at me. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Clutch had a hottie around for a while,” Jase chimed in. “I saw you two in town a few times. She was blonde, curvy, and…” he whistled.

After a minute, Clutch sighed. “I never found someone I wanted to settle down with.”

A wide grin spread over my face. “See? Sharing isn’t so hard now, is it?”

He smirked before looking up to the sky. “Looks like a storm will be rolling in later.” He pulled himself up, held out a hand, and helped me to my feet. “Not too many folks know about the warehouse for Doyle’s military surplus store, but someone will come across it soon enough. It’s too close to Camp Fox for it to be missed. I want to get a truckload or two while we still can.” He glanced at Jase and me for a moment. “I could use a lookout.”

My brows rose with hope. “I’m in.”

He turned to Jase. “Think you can hold down the fort?”

Jase jumped to his feet. “You can count on me, sir.”

“I’d better show you what to do in case anyone or thing shows up.” They started to head off, and Clutch paused, turning to me. “Meet at the truck in fifteen.”

“Wilco,” I replied with a grin and a salute. Knowing this was my second chance, I took off at a jog to get ready.

Fifteen minutes later, I leaned against Clutch’s truck, holding on to a two-foot-long bolt cutter. When Clutch appeared with weapons and the backpack he always carried, I nodded toward the house. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”