Broken Lives: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 4) by James Hunt
Authors: James Hunt
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to put them in the line of fire.
“My daughter does something else,” Mike said.
“No can do. All assignments are final. Here, your first stop is the range to assess your accuracy.”
Mike was handed an AR-15 with a full clip of ammo. Blake kept a close watch on him the entire time. The targets were spread out in ten-yard intervals. The closest was ten yards and the farthest was one hundred.
“You get three shots per target,” Blake instructed.
Mike brought the scope up to his eyes. The round bull’s-eye target fell between the crosshairs. He flipped the lever from spray to single shot.
He moved through each target fairly quickly. When he made it to the one-hundred-yard marker he had a little trouble, but managed to hit one bull’s-eye, and got the other two close to the center.
“What’s next?” Mike asked.
Blake made a few marks on his clipboard and nodded over to the hand-to-hand combat area.
The trainer was a tall, lean man with sweatpants and a shirt on. He was demonstrating a few disarming techniques during a knife fight.
After watching the instructor walk through the motions a few more times they broke off into pairs. Mike’s eyes kept finding Kalen, practicing with another woman. His lack of focus was causing his opponent to kill him every time.
“You two. Stop,” the instructor said.
It took Mike a moment to realize who the instructor was talking to, until the instructor started walking over.
“You need to be more decisive. Any hesitation and your opponent kills you,” he said, grabbing the knife from Mike’s sparring partner.
The instructor poised himself for attack, and before Mike could do anything he was on his back with the instructor’s blade to his throat.
“You’re slow, old man,” the instructor said.
Mike brought his knee up to the instructor’s stomach and rolled him over, struggling to get the knife from him.
Before Mike could grab the blade the instructor answered with a right cross against Mike’s jaw, almost knocking him out.
“You’ve still got spirit though,” the instructor said, extending his hand and helping Mike up.
Kalen rushed over to help steady him, but Mike waved her off.
“I’m fine,” Mike said.
“Dad, you’re not fine. You need to rest.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He didn’t mean for his tone to come out as harsh as it did, but he didn’t want to appear weak. Not here.
“All right, everyone. Back to your partners,” the instructor ordered.
The rest of the day seemed to go smoothly enough. There weren’t any more combat or shooting exercises. Everything was about strategy and ensuring the unit of men and women you were with understood each other’s roles.
They were dismissed shortly after lunch and Mike, Sam, and Kalen all walked back together. It was the first time they’d really been able to talk since this morning.
“Where’d your mom go?” Mike asked.
“Hospital,” Kalen said.
“What about everyone else?” Mike asked.
“Katie’s doing administrative work at some office, Nelson’s with maintenance, and Mary’s at the hospital. The rest were under sixteen, so they’re at the school,” Sam replied.
“Let’s grab Freddy on our way back,” Mike said.
When they arrived at the school the timid boy who didn’t want to be left this morning was replaced by a disheartened boy who didn’t want to leave.
“Can’t we stay a little bit longer? Ms. Franklin is so cool!” Freddy shouted.
“Yeah, Mr. Grant. When my dad comes to get us he can make sure he picks Freddy up too,” Sean added.
“All right. You two be careful,” Mike said.
“Yes! Thanks, Dad!” Freddy yelled, running back onto the playground with Sean.
“He seems to be adjusting well,” Kalen said.
“Yeah,” Mike replied.
“If they have any beginner combat lessons here you might be able to
“My daughter does something else,” Mike said.
“No can do. All assignments are final. Here, your first stop is the range to assess your accuracy.”
Mike was handed an AR-15 with a full clip of ammo. Blake kept a close watch on him the entire time. The targets were spread out in ten-yard intervals. The closest was ten yards and the farthest was one hundred.
“You get three shots per target,” Blake instructed.
Mike brought the scope up to his eyes. The round bull’s-eye target fell between the crosshairs. He flipped the lever from spray to single shot.
He moved through each target fairly quickly. When he made it to the one-hundred-yard marker he had a little trouble, but managed to hit one bull’s-eye, and got the other two close to the center.
“What’s next?” Mike asked.
Blake made a few marks on his clipboard and nodded over to the hand-to-hand combat area.
The trainer was a tall, lean man with sweatpants and a shirt on. He was demonstrating a few disarming techniques during a knife fight.
After watching the instructor walk through the motions a few more times they broke off into pairs. Mike’s eyes kept finding Kalen, practicing with another woman. His lack of focus was causing his opponent to kill him every time.
“You two. Stop,” the instructor said.
It took Mike a moment to realize who the instructor was talking to, until the instructor started walking over.
“You need to be more decisive. Any hesitation and your opponent kills you,” he said, grabbing the knife from Mike’s sparring partner.
The instructor poised himself for attack, and before Mike could do anything he was on his back with the instructor’s blade to his throat.
“You’re slow, old man,” the instructor said.
Mike brought his knee up to the instructor’s stomach and rolled him over, struggling to get the knife from him.
Before Mike could grab the blade the instructor answered with a right cross against Mike’s jaw, almost knocking him out.
“You’ve still got spirit though,” the instructor said, extending his hand and helping Mike up.
Kalen rushed over to help steady him, but Mike waved her off.
“I’m fine,” Mike said.
“Dad, you’re not fine. You need to rest.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He didn’t mean for his tone to come out as harsh as it did, but he didn’t want to appear weak. Not here.
“All right, everyone. Back to your partners,” the instructor ordered.
The rest of the day seemed to go smoothly enough. There weren’t any more combat or shooting exercises. Everything was about strategy and ensuring the unit of men and women you were with understood each other’s roles.
They were dismissed shortly after lunch and Mike, Sam, and Kalen all walked back together. It was the first time they’d really been able to talk since this morning.
“Where’d your mom go?” Mike asked.
“Hospital,” Kalen said.
“What about everyone else?” Mike asked.
“Katie’s doing administrative work at some office, Nelson’s with maintenance, and Mary’s at the hospital. The rest were under sixteen, so they’re at the school,” Sam replied.
“Let’s grab Freddy on our way back,” Mike said.
When they arrived at the school the timid boy who didn’t want to be left this morning was replaced by a disheartened boy who didn’t want to leave.
“Can’t we stay a little bit longer? Ms. Franklin is so cool!” Freddy shouted.
“Yeah, Mr. Grant. When my dad comes to get us he can make sure he picks Freddy up too,” Sean added.
“All right. You two be careful,” Mike said.
“Yes! Thanks, Dad!” Freddy yelled, running back onto the playground with Sean.
“He seems to be adjusting well,” Kalen said.
“Yeah,” Mike replied.
“If they have any beginner combat lessons here you might be able to
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