The Zero Trilogy (Book 3): End of Day (3 page)

“Just four?”

“You, me, the dog, and-”

“Me.” A stern female voice rang across the training yard. Elle watched a trim, tall girl with chalky white skin cross the distance. Her hair was white. Her eyes were pale and colorless. She, like Cheng, was also Asian.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” she demanded.

“This is Elle,” Cheng said. “Elle…this is Luli.”

Elle nodded.

“What’s with the dog?” Luli demanded.

“His name is Bravo,” Elle said.

Luli was dressed in different shades of brown. A long leather jacket fell to her knees. A pair of sunglasses sat on her head, a stark contrast to the startlingly white shade of her hair. Her eyes were smudged with what looked like grease or tar – she looked like a steampunk poster child.

“Elle and Bravo are part of the Wolf Pack now,” Cheng said.

“The
Wolf Pack
?” Elle smirked.

“It’s our official name,” Cheng explained.

“No. It’s what Cheng
wants
our official name to be,” Luli corrected, rolling her eyes. “We don’t actually have a title outside of
volunteers
.”

“Volunteers just doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Cheng said, feigning hurt.

“Sorry, but not
that
sorry.” Luli studied Elle’s appearance. “You carry a sword, kid? What for?”

“Killing people,” Elle replied, flat.

At this, Luli flashed a cunning smile.

“Have you seen Cheng use
his
sword?” she asked.

“No.”

Luli looked at Cheng.

“You should demonstrate to the newbie,” she suggested. “So she knows what she’s dealing with.”

Elle glared. She didn’t take kindly to being pushed around, and she didn’t appreciate Luli’s superior attitude.

Luli took Cheng aside for a moment and whispered in his ear. It was an intimate gesture, and for some reason, Elle blushed. She wondered if Luli and Cheng were romantically involved, and then she scolded herself for even caring.

The girl looks sick
, Bravo observed

“She’s albino,” Elle whispered.

Albino?

“She can’t go out in the sun.”

Bravo tilted his head.

I’m glad I’ve got fur
.

“Elle,” Luli said, folding her arms. “Let’s see what you can do with the sword. If you’re going to be a part of this team, we’ve got to know where your skill level is.”

Elle said, “I don’t need to prove myself to you.”

“We’ve got an important job,” Luli snapped. “We go out and find civilian survivors and bring them here – most of the time, it’s pretty dangerous. So. Test. Your. Skill.” She paused.
“Now..”

Cheng smiled half-heartedly at Elle, as if to apologize for Luli’s behavior.

Elle sized Cheng up. He was tall and lean. The way he carried himself told her that he was quick and alert. She took a couple of steps back and waved Bravo to the side. He hesitated, hovering near the edge of the wall, watching closely.

Elle drew her katana. The light metal was a familiar weight in her hands. She held it defensively as Cheng walked to the side, drawing his own katana. His had a green jade handle.

“Two minutes,” Luli said. “Go.”

Elle didn’t move. Cheng studied her like a cat before springing forward. But he did not take Elle by surprise. Her heart beat a little faster and the blood rushed through her veins as she stepped aside, whirling in a neat circle and bringing her blade up, meeting Cheng’s steel
with a clang. He smiled and laughed aloud, color flushing his cheeks. Elle felt a rush of adrenaline.

Cheng deftly stabbed toward Elle’s abdomen. She danced aside, as quickly and as lightly as a ballerina. She parried and blocked, spun and charged. She and Cheng sparred with each other until Luli yelled, “It’s been two minutes!”

Elle jumped backward, panting, sweat dripping down her face.

Cheng wasn’t breathing quite as hard, but his eyes were sparkling.

“Well,” Luli said, hands on her hips. “Not bad. Not good, but not bad.”

Cheng added, “You have skill, little ninja.”

Elle sheathed her sword.

“Thanks.”

“But you could be better,” Cheng went on. “Your techniques are good, but they’re not fluid. You taught yourself to use this sword, didn’t you?”

“I was surviving,” Elle answered.

“Your movements are jerky,” Luli stated, monotone.

“I took this sword from a dead man in Santa Monica,” Elle replied, deadpan. “It’s not like I was some great warrior before the apocalypse. I’ve learned on the job.”

“I can teach you,” Cheng said. “You can be better than good. You can be great.”

Elle didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no, either.

She looked at Bravo.

Do it
, his eyes said.
Learning is good
.

“When can we start?” she asked.

Cheng’s lips curved upward.

“Right now,” he said.

“The most important part of using your sword,” Cheng said, “is in acknowledging that it is a part of you. It should be an extension of your body, a piece of your soul.” He twirled his katana around, the late evening sun burning blood orange against the concrete wall.

Elle sat cross-legged in the dirt. Her jacket had been tossed aside. She was flushed and sweating, her dark T-shirt sticking to her back.
Cheng kneeled down, pointing at the red scar on her cheek.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

Elle stood up.

“Unfortunate circumstances,” she replied.

Cheng’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“So mysterious,” he commented. “I like it.”

“I will stab you with this sword.”

“Please try. I would welcome the entertainment.”

Elle wanted to be angry, but Cheng’s lighthearted tone made it difficult. She almost laughed as she rolled forward on the balls of her feet, lifting her katana. Cheng blocked her attack and dove right, pressing the tip of his steel blade against the nape of her neck.

“You’re dead, little ninja,” he said.

Elle dropped her arm, frustrated.

“You’re not focused,” Cheng told her, facing her.

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I
am
.”

“No, you’re
not
.” He stepped closer, inches away from Elle’s face. “When you fight, Elle, you are not focused on your opponent. You should live and breathe the fight – become the fight. But you are distracted by your environment. I’ve watched your eyes. You’re trying to watch everything around you. Don’t.”

“If I don’t watch my surroundings, somebody else could sneak up behind me and cut my head off,” Elle deadpanned. “I can’t let my guard down.”

“You won’t.” Cheng made a circular motion with his finger. “When you are focused like you should be, nothing will escape your attention. Nothing.” He sheathed his sword. “I suggest taking time to relax.”

Elle rolled her eyes.

She said, “I’m here to practice with swords, not
relax
.”

“One helps the other.” Cheng sheathed his sword, too. “We have been practicing for a long time. You’re good, Elle. But you won’t get any better until you can focus your mind and calm down.”

“Sure, sure,” Elle replied. “Where did you learn all of this?”

“Ah, now it’s my turn to be mysterious,” Cheng said. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Elle was tired, even though she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach growled, aching for food. “Bravo,” she called, “come.”

The dog shot to his feet and trotted to Elle. He had been watching Cheng and Elle train all day, occasionally napping in the shade.

He’s got a point
, Bravo remarked, his eyes dancing.
You’re not focused enough
.

“Don’t start with me, too,” Elle huffed.

Cheng raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing.

Elle kept a comfortable distance between her and Cheng as they walked toward the Chow Hall. The boy was incredibly skilled and dangerous – and Elle didn’t trust him. Not yet. She trusted no one but Bravo.

“Are you angry with me?” Cheng asked.

“Why would you say that?” Elle said.

Cheng laughed.

“Because I have been telling you what to do all day.” He pointed to the dog. “You’re used to a much quieter companion.”

Who says I’m quiet?
Bravo barked softly.

“I feel as if I’ve insulted him,” Cheng went on.

“You have.” Elle shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”

Thanks for sticking up for me
.

When they arrived at the Chow Hall, most of the civilians had already sat down to eat. There was a small lineup in the back of the room, near the makeshift buffet tables. Elle took two plates – one for her, and one for Bravo. It was basic stuff. Meat, potatoes and vegetables.

“Sit with us,” Cheng advised.

Luli was sitting on a table in the corner, her boots propped up on an empty chair. She watched Elle and Cheng with predatory eyes – an expression that was not lost on Elle.

“Have a nice training session, newbie?” Luli asked as Elle took a seat at the table. Bravo crouched under her feet, gobbling up his plate of food.

Elle didn’t answer her question. She focused on eating her food.

“Well?” Luli demanded, looking at Cheng.

“She did well,” he said.

Luli tapped her fork against the table and started eating again.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Bravo poked his head above the table, looking at Elle’s plate with a mournful expression.

“Don’t give me that face,” Elle said, grinning.

She gave him a piece of her meat. He scarfed it down, jubilant.

“Amazing,” Cheng remarked.

“What?” Elle said.

“You and your dog. You read each other very well.”

Elle shrugged.

“Bravo and I understand each other.”

“I see that.” Cheng sat there, deep in thought, watching Bravo and Elle. By the time Elle was done eating, she was highly uncomfortable under Cheng’s watchful gaze. She
stood, returned her plate to the kitchen, and came back for Bravo.

“Meet me at dawn tomorrow at the fence,” Cheng said suddenly. “I have more to show you.”

Luli threw her fork down.

“Seriously?” she hissed. “Why are you spending so much-”

Cheng held up his hand, and Luli fell silent.

It gave Elle a little bit of satisfaction to see her shut up, but she didn’t confirm or deny that she would meet Cheng at dawn. As she left the Chow Hall with Bravo, the sun disappeared over the tips of the hills.

You’re going to train with him again tomorrow, aren’t you?
Bravo jogged ahead of her.
You like him
.

“No,” Elle snapped. “Maybe I can learn something.”

Okay
.

Elle shook her head.

Bravo huffed.
I don’t smell anything wrong with him
.

“What about
her
?”

The albino? She’s not bad. She’s just angry
.

“That could be dangerous.”

You’re angry, too
.

Elle paused at the door of Building Two. She looked at Bravo.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Bravo nudged his head against the door.

Let’s go inside
.

Elle turned the knob and Bravo darted inside, toward the cot in the corner. Elle followed him and sat on the bed. She was bone tired and sore from all the extra training with Cheng. She wondered why he wanted to help her so much – or why he cared at all.

See you at dawn
, Bravo teased, jumping on the foot of the cot.

“Whatever, dog,” Elle muttered.

He was right, though. He always was.

Chapter Two

“How do you know how to fight like this?” Elle asked.

Salty sweat dripped down her forehead, slipping onto her cheek. She grasped the handle of her katana tight, knuckles turning white with the strain. Cheng danced around her like a cat, smooth and silent, with all the cunning of a shadow.

“Practice,” he replied, grinning mischievously.

“No. I mean, where did you
learn
how to fight like this?”

Cheng thrust his blade forward, straight toward Elle’s face. She pivoted, slamming her own sword into his, a desperate attempt at self-defense.

“Don’t get distracted by words, Elle,” Cheng advised. “Because when you do, things like that happen.”

“We’ve been practicing all day,” Elle replied. “Give me a break.”

“There are no breaks in the real world.”

Elle paused, struck by how familiar Cheng’s statement sounded. It was something she would have said to Jay or Georgia, when she first met them in the city. Realistic and harsh. Honest.

“Okay, but really. Where did you learn?” Elle pressed.

Cheng didn’t answer right away. He slowly lowered his sword, stared at the blade, and then sheathed it. His shaggy black hair fell across his forehead, obscuring his clear, gray eyes.

“My mother insisted that I learn the art of war,” Cheng said slowly. “I started young. Very young.”

“The art of war?” Elle echoed. “That’s a little dark for a kid.”

“My mother was a little dark for a person.” Cheng crossed the dirt and stopped a foot away from Elle’s face. “And where did you learn to be such a spider-monkey?”

“The city,” Elle said. “I learned to survive.”

“And did you always live in the city?”

“My mother and I…we had an apartment in Beverly Hills.”

“Your family is dead?”

Elle swallowed a lump in her throat. From the wall, Bravo whined softly, sensing Elle’s distress.

“Yeah,” she replied. “They’re dead.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Cheng backed away. “It’s not easy, living in this apocalypse.”

Elle slowly sheathed her own sword. She blinked, getting a mental flash of her mother, lounging on the living-room couch, sipping a glass of wine, her cheeks stained with tears. She saw her father – a small-business owner turned celebrity lawyer – popping in and out of her life every couple of months. Her parents had never married. In fact, their relationship was oddly platonic – or at least it had appeared to be that way to Elle. The only reason her father had ever showed his face was to pay her mother, so that she could afford to keep the apartment in the city and buy the latest fashions on Sunset Boulevard. She thought of her brother, such a great musical talent, wasting it all away on drugs and alcohol,
shriveling up in a jail cell somewhere. Had he ever escaped Los Angeles? Probably not.