The Pale: Volume One by Jacob Long (red novels TXT) 📖

boy before my man here breaks your arm.”

Somehow, the club owner’s words cut through the dense fog of rage in Adam’s mind. It made it clear to Adam that he was losing, and it wasn’t because of anything as insurmountable as being outgunned. He was just being a fool. He’d been gifted with incredible strength but was being outmaneuvered because of his reliance on it. Like all that mattered was smashing mindlessly. He was a trained combatant and needed to get his head in the game.

Adam assessed the situation as fast as he could. Every fighting style and maneuver had a weakness. The doorman’s arm bar required stability. He had his feet planted in a wide stance that placed his dominant foot within reach of Adam’s free hand. That was enough.

Maintaining his posture with all his strength and willpower, Adam quickly reached up and struck the club owner in the larynx. It was a light hit. Adam did not want to kill or otherwise permanently injure the man. He’d brought his mind back to a calmer place.

The club owner retreated quickly, clasping his throat and coughing uncontrollably. Adam then reached back and found the doorman’s leg. He deftly slid his hand down the doorman’s calf muscle and found the Achilles’ tendon. Adam squeezed the delicate collection of nerves as hard as he could.

The pain was excruciating, and the doorman cried out in agony as he collapsed to one knee. He released his grip on Adam’s arm, and Adam nearly fell over. The relief was so great. He even took a moment to massage the sore areas. However, this gave the doorman an opening to surprise Adam with his determination. Adam felt the doorman’s arm wrap around his throat in time only to panic. The rear choke was quickly locked in, and the doorman’s left arm applied the appropriate pressure to cut circulation to Adam’s head. Adam had to think and act quickly, but he’d been trained for that exact situation. In one practiced motion, he clasped the doorman’s right hand and struck his left elbow. This released the pressure, allowing Adam to gain control of the arm wrapped around his neck. Adam turned, simultaneously pulling the arm loose. He rolled across the floor, twisting the doorman’s right arm and locking it an arm bar not dissimilar to the one used on him not moments ago. Adam then swung with his left fist and landed a mighty punch square on the doorman’s jaw.

It was as if Adam had found the doorman’s off switch. The man’s head bobbled cartoonishly, and then he fell to the floor in a limp heap. The inside of his cheek had broken open on his teeth and dark blood drizzled into a tiny puddle on the expensive rug.

Adam didn’t have even a moment to celebrate his hard-earned victory. Without warning, something impossibly hard struck him on the top of his head. It ranked right up there with some of the most intense pain he’d ever felt. He dropped to the floor and rolled away from whatever was assailing him. When he looked up into the light, he saw the shape of the snazzy club owner wielding a small blackjack. Adam didn’t even think people used those things anymore. It was like being hit with a rock, caveman style. He was lucky the club owner had elected to strike him on the thickest part of his skull.

Rick closed the distance to continue to assault his floored victim. Adam simply caught him by the wrist. Adam then pulled him down, wrapped his legs around the club owner’s head, and choked him in the scissor. The club owner loved the gym but clearly had no real fighting skill to speak of.

The bump on Adam’s head throbbed, and he couldn’t help but berate his increasingly unconscious assailant. “What is the matter with you? Who the hell hits someone with that thing?” Adam groaned. “Ow. Now, are you done? I just want to grab my friend and leave. Just let me leave. Okay?”

Rick’s face was turning blue, and eyes were just about ready to roll back in his head. It looked like he may have been trying to nod.

“Okay?” Adam repeated.

Rick nodded harder. “Okay,” he choked.

“Okay,” Adam released the club owner and allowed the man to breathe. Adam stood, and the man fell to all fours, savoring the air that once again filled his lungs.

“Now just . . . don’t bother me,” Adam said.

Adam hurried across the room to where Téa had slept through all the commotion. She’d hardly stirred. Adam knelt down beside her and placed his hand between her bare breasts. He placed his ear close to her mouth and listened for breathing. Adam felt her breath weakly on his ear and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her heart beat steadily. Breathing was becoming difficult for her. Adam tilted her head back to better free up the airway.

Téa’s limbs weren’t any more pale than usual and showed no hints of blue. She didn’t appear to be going into shock, so Adam decided to move her. He quickly tugged her shirt down and then began sliding his hands underneath her slight frame. Just then, he heard an audible and ominous “click” behind him.

Adam squinted his eyes and slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder. There was just no way what he thought was happening could actually be happening.

But it was. Davy was standing and pointing some kind of tiny revolver at Adam’s back. “Made your last mistake,” he said.

“Really?” Adam asked, standing slowly.

“Don’t move! Don’t you fucking move!” Davy shouted, brandishing the pistol.

Adam heard no authority in the young man’s voice. He slowly turned to face Davy. “Look, kid, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I was just about to leave, no problem.” Adam raised his hands in surrender as a show of good faith.

“And just what the fuck makes you think that I would ever let you out of here alive after all this? Huh? After beating me up? Humiliating me?”

Adam answered, “Because you’re scared.” He took a small deliberate step forward.

Davy emitted a breathy chuckle. “What are you talking about? I ain’t scared! I’m a Truong! We ain’t scared of nothing! We ain’t got reason to be scared!”

“Yes, you are,” Adam said as he slowly approached the gunman. Behind Davy, Adam saw Rick get to his feet. The club owner saw the gun and immediately looked concerned. “I’ve seen a lot of kids with guns in their hands,” Adam continued. “They looked comfortable enough when it wasn’t serious, like when they were shooting a paper made to look like a man. Then I’ve seen those same kids aim it for the very first time at a real man with the expectation to do real harm. Some of them looked just like you do now. Those ones couldn’t quite pull the trigger.”

Davy renewed his threat with the gun, shouting, “Get the fuck back!” in his shrill voice.

Adam hesitated, his hands still at shoulder height.

Rick chimed in. “Davy, calm down. You don’t want to do this, son.” Apparently, the situation had gotten just a little too serious for the club owner.

“Shut up, old man!” Davy ordered. “This guy dissed me! Only one way to deal with that in the street!”

“But are you ready to go that far?” Adam attempted to renew his advance. He’d almost gotten within reach of the gun. “That’s a hell of a leap. I really don’t think you can do it.”

“That’s murder, Davy,” Rick supplied. “You can’t come back from that, and you’ll be looking at prison, maybe for the rest of your life.”

Davy seethed but didn’t otherwise react.

“I’ve done a stretch or two in my time, kid,” Rick continued. “Believe me, you don’t want that.”

Davy looked over his shoulder at the club owner. “Shut up! You’re lucky my brother isn’t here! When he finds out about how you let this happen, I don’t even know what he’ll do. Your life don’t mean shit!”

Adam sprang. He dodged out of the gun’s line of bore and grabbed it with his right hand. With his left hand, he chopped at Davy’s elbow. In a flash, it was over. By the time Davy turned to see what was happening to him, the barrel of the gun was aimed up one of his nostrils. Adam forced Davy against the wall and glared into the kid’s eyes. Meanwhile, Davy stared bug-eyed down the barrel of his own gun. Adam could have easily pulled the trigger and blown the kid’s fool head off. It would serve him right. He should know that in the street or on the battlefield . . . in life, any man who points a gun at another man is inviting death.

As Adam ruminated, an unpleasant scent violated his nostrils. Adam sneered and looked down to discover that Davy was developing a dark, wet patch in the crotch of his faded jeans.

Adam sighed sharply in exasperation. The kid was not worth the stain on his conscience, so he quickly grabbed Davy by the forehead and sharply cracked his skull against the wall. Adam’s strength made it effortless. After Davy collapsed to the floor, Adam checked his pulse. The kid would live to be a bastard another day. Adam rolled him onto his side in the recovery position just like he’d been trained. He didn’t want the kid to choke on his own vomit.

When Adam stood from his work, he caught the eye of the club owner. In a moment, the man couldn’t look Adam in the eye, either because he was ashamed or just forlorn.

“Go on, kid,” Rick said. “Go take care of your girl. I’ll pick up the pieces from this.”

Adam didn’t respond verbally. He just turned and strode back to Téa’s side. He checked her vitals one more time to confirm he wasn’t too late and then picked her from the couch with ease. He knew that the best option for her was to call an ambulance and get her real medical attention, but he couldn’t be seen. He couldn’t be questioned. If he did that, he would have to abandon her. For some reason, that felt like a worse crime. A crime against what? He didn’t know. A crime against their friendship, maybe. He couldn’t leave her care to anyone else, certainly no one there.

No, Adam carried Téa out of the office and hurriedly descended the stairs. None of the metalheads looked up from their reveling to show concern for the unconscious girl being carried out of the building. Adam swiftly rounded the foot of the stairwell and pushed the door open with his backside. In seconds, he was out in the night air with Téa in his arms.

In the dark, Adam took a moment to fish Téa’s keys from her pocket. Given how tight her jeans were, it proved a difficult task, as his hands were not nearly as slender and practiced as Téa’s. When he pulled the keys out, a pile of green bills were launched from the crevice, mostly twenties. The wad broke apart on the pavement and then tumbled away down the alley on urgings of a gentle California breeze. Adam watched them go and knew Téa was there to buy drugs. He couldn’t believe it.

Adam gathered Téa back into both of his arms and hurried toward the street. Thankfully, he recognized the keys. He had expected that Téa would still be driving the same car she had been when he’d last seen her. Téa was meek. She valued safe, consistent routine, and her old fuel-efficient lime-green hybrid stood out like a sore thumb among the row of cars lining the street. Adam beeped the car open and placed Téa gently inside. Her inhalations were still soft, but steady. Adam became increasingly confident that she was going to be okay. He just needed to get her home and watch after her. He just needed to care for her, like he had always done.

After buckling Téa’s limp form into the seat Adam stole her wallet and looked at the driver’s license. It had a good picture, but more importantly, it had her home address. Adam jumped into the driver’s seat. Just as he closed the door, a police cruiser appeared approaching from the opposite direction. Adam reflexively ducked behind the steering wheel. The headlights illuminated the entire interior, and Adam used the resultant fear to shrink himself past what he thought was possible. Well out of the beam, Adam held his breath and waited for the cruiser to pass. He’d had enough stress for one night, and silently willed the police to leave him alone.

Just go away. Just go away.

The car darkened as the police cruiser passed harmlessly and then Adam allowed himself to exhale. He sat upright and watched the cruiser slowly motivate away. They were definitely looking for something.

The cruiser turned the corner, and Adam quickly started the car. He inched himself out of the crowded parking spot and pulled inconspicuously into the street. Inconspicuousness. He knew that was the key. Just drive normally. Don’t attract attention. As he left, he saw in his rearview mirror that a couple of people from the club had noticed the