When Lightning Strikes Twice

Part 2

You're a Long Way from Home, Mate

Out like a light, Akira thought with a feeble smile without humour, panting faintly. The smile was stretched to keep from screaming. On one hand she had just whacked a man, or at least a man shaped demon with a broom stick, on the other she was relatively safe.

Her reaction had been a tinsy bit drastic, but like most martial artists her instincts had kicked in and her mind had backed down to let the body take over. One attack had rolled smoothly into another beyond any expectations. As her fist arced across the space and drove as hard as she dared into his tender flesh she was surprised that she had actually been able to follow through her kata she had been practising. It had been even easier than whirling around her poor excuse for a boxing bag, a hessian sack packed with sawdust, tied in from a beam beneath her loft.

Warm pride bubbled up from her chest, but settled like sludge at the bottom of a bucket when she remembered what had happened next.

He had yelled, a harsh crow like croak and dropped to the ground writhing. His face gagged and turned a bright red as he tried to inhale. His body suddenly began to jerk and convulse, floundering like a fish on land. Air was dragged through his mouth like the last mouthful of milkshake up a straw.

A seizure, Akira panicked, backing away. Some sort of epileptic fit? His limbs flung erratically and his cloak flared and dipped. For an instant, the moonlight shone past the cowl and onto his upturned face. Strange black patterns etched over his skin like Maori face paint even as she watched. It gleamed with its own dark light but they were nothing compared to his eyes. They glowed like dying embers, red and hateful.

Then, just like that, the hood slipped back obscuring the face again.

SPIRIT! DEMON! JIN!

Akira's mind shrieked hysterically. Her hands flew to her mouth as if physically trying to hold back the scream trying to force its way up her throat. Bile burned across her tongue. She stooped down still keeping a flustered eye on the demon. Her hands scrambled along the ground until she found the perfect weapon, a long smooth. Yes! She thanked her forethought rapturously. When she grabbed the bucket she had also grabbed an old broomstick.

She bounced up and danced behind its crazed circles with her rod held above her head ready to bash its brains in.

Teeth gritted, Akira whipped it down like a flash of lightning.

"Help me!"

The choked, helpless voice reached deep down into the slimy recesses of her brain and touched a chord. It throttled it. At last the possible moment she changed its descent so it only stuck the side of his head and narrowly missed the killing blow. He loosed a soft, moan before slumping to the ground unconscious, for real this time she was sure.

Gasping and wondering what the hell had happened, she leaned on the stick and caught her breath, trying to swallow the stomach acid that had crawled up her throat. Standing stock still she stared at the limp body, lying on its side with the cowl mercifully covering the face it wore. It took her a while to get up the courage to come within distance of the thing.

Finally, curiosity over came her. Curiosity killed the cat, Akira berated herself, and she kicked his side. Satisfaction brought it back.

No reaction. Still not sure she gave him another good solid kick to his back. The man rolled over a little, with a dull groan, like a tree trunk in a gale. Kneeling beside him warily, still prepared to rock back onto toes and away, she reached fearfully towards the hood. His head lolled lazily on his shoulder. Her fingers itched as her hand hung above the hood but yanked it back quickly as she thought he stirred.

Coward! She scolded and with a flick of her wrist the man's face was in full view.

Fine chiselled features of his Japanese heritage made it easy to judge his age. She was surprised when he seemed only a few years older than herself. Silky black locks swept back and up so that they spiked a little while other stray strands fell roguishly across his face. In sleep it looked boyish and innocent, but then again everyone probably did without their brain working a mile a minute.

She brushed them aside to find instead of an alien mask but thick feathery eyebrows arching over his eyes. Akira was tempted to lift the lids to check that they weren't the raging red eyes that had stared at her with such vehemence.

She immediately felt sorry for the man. He was a man and it was probably just her own paranoia that had made hallucinate. It was a hallucination, she told herself.All that crap about healing and the meaning of Jin tricked you. You saw beneath his hood for less than a fraction of a second. He probably just had the bad the bad luck to stumble into a street brawl and accidentally got shot. When she ran in making more noise then a thunderstorm, he had only done what seemed natural.

Then how do you explain the martial arts? she retorted.

"So he's some cool Kungfu guy. Having fists the size of hammers still don't stand up to a gun and any properly trained person could drive you into the ground. All you have is some vague memories from when you were little and those boys from school. Tai Chi is not a martial art."

Content but still not totally sure, Akira resolved to help him anyway. She only had to do a little bit, and he would do the rest.

You're going on with that demon crap again so stop it.

She stopped her brain there, knowing that she believed it but pretending that she didn't and she was a scientist. Getting up quickly, she fetched the grocery bag and set the water to boil.

Feathers! Fire! Fiend!

Faces whirled around him, some familiar, and some vague ghosts of the past. Sometimes they pulled and stretched to become parodies of real people while other these creatures merged to become the face of an enemy, or even worse, that of a loved one.

Screams rent the air that tore his heart. He knew the voice, He knew where he was, when he was. The wind whirled around him, mussing his hair, dragging his clothes. Thunder echoed through the forest and lightning etched each shadow in its blinding path. But the wind, how he despised it and what it carried with it. The chilling swirling wind.

Flames licked the trees around him, disorientating him with their greedy crackling and flickering orange light bathing the trees. He screamed in frustration, turning left and right for any source of direction.

A high-pitched cry pierced through his thoughts so clear it was surreal. His legs beneath him wheeled and flew in what direction the cream seemed to come from and couldn't stop. Something else controlled his body, maybe some mysterious unknown force or maybe destiny.

The voice shrieked again, closer.

"Mother!" he yelled hoarse. He choked on the thick black smoke undulating into horrifying creatures and then spiralling up into the blazing sky.

"Mother!" he yelled again crashing through the undergrowth and into a clearing ringed by demonic shadows and hungry flames. Within the clearing was a tiny log cabin engulfed by the inferno. The windowpanes shattered and the roof caving in. In fact, the whole house was gutted. He knew it hadn't been like that but what did reality mean here?

"No!" he moaned. His home since birth and everything inside he cherished was now ashes. All gone….

The wind blasted him off his feet and into the dirt bringing on its icy currents "Toshin…."

"Noooo!" A spectre weaved between the trees with tumultuous footfalls making the trees creak and groan.

A thin figure appeared in front of the cabin. She was beautiful. Silky black hair just below her shoulders swayed gently despite the great squalls the creature brought with it. Dressed all in a faint glowing white dress, she seemed so pure, an angel. She reached with a slender arm beckoning to him. "Jin," she called softly.

He pushed himself out of the mud, straining to reach that hand.

All at once the creature fell from the sky to land behind his unconcerned mother, towering over her. He snatched her by the wrist, dangling her just above his head as if to swallow her whole.

As if the whole situation finally dawned on her, her face broke into a terrified rictus. She screamed silently, being drowned out by the roaring thunder and shrieking winds. She kicked and thrashed while Toshin only laughed at her feeble attempts.

"Come and get her!" he challenged, his voice a deep grating growl.

Jin leapt to his feet running for his mother with all his heart but his feet were like lead. He tripped and stumbled over them in a desperate urge to reach his mother before….

He beat, kicked, and slashed with everything he knew. Pivoting and wheeling with all the speed and grace he possessed. Lunging and reeling with all the precision he held.

Hopeless.

His mother screamed over and over in hysterical sobs. "Run Jin! Run! Get away while you still can."

Against his mother's pleas, he fought on.

Suddenly Toshin's face loomed over him, his eyes sparkling with cold amusement "Pest!" he hissed. "You can't defeat me!"

He swelled! He grew and grew to be as tall as the trees like some giant ogre. With one gigantic backhand, Toshin knocked him flying. He slammed into a tree with a thwack, pushing the air from his lungs. The last thing he knew before fading into unconsciousness were his mothers dying screams and Toshins taunts of, "Devil….."

Jin bolted upright, coughing and spluttering. His eyes darted everywhere trying to adjust to the flickering light. Fire! The flames that had raged so tall had followed him from his nightmare and…

He was OK, nothing but a haunting nightmare, but he hadn't had it in two years but he knew what had brought it back. He tried to stand but the pain returned with a vengeance and he flopped onto his back groaning, staring up at the shadows flickering over the corrugated tin roof. Closing his eyes the image of the flaming forest was still stamped on the inside of his eyelids. He relented and opened his eyes again. Would he ever be rid of it.

Emerging mysteriously from the darkness, and threading her way between a path cleared between the boxes came the girl, jabbering a garble of words as stared at him intensely. After a hazy minute her realised it was English. He spoke it fluently, along with French and Spanish because whatever else his grandfather lacked his education had not, but was too tired to even try. He blinked away the last of the drowsiness and focused them. The girl had disappeared again. Remembering her staff, he sat up very carefully, looking around apprehensively.

He jerked when she appeared silently from his other side offering a steaming container.

How did she do that? He wondered while taking the plastic container, thanking her in a dry raspy voice. Inside were noodles with a steamy chicken smell. She was probably doing it to keep him disorientated, sitting just out of the firelight.

"Sorry, I don't have any forks, or spoons, or knives," she apologised with an almost embarrassed laugh. She was speaking Japanese again. It was halting and had to rephrase it twice before he had understood. Her voice wasn't hard and it was now very interested. Her head cocked to one side and her eyes followed his every movement. He tried not to think about what she might of seen, but she didn't seem frightened anymore, merely cautious. A smile even pressed her lips. She was sitting just out of reach in a half legged position, still ready to run.

Relaxing a little at her easy manner, Jin smiled back in his most friendly manner and used his fingers to scoop out some of the long mushy noodles. The girl obviously didn't cook often, dropping them into his mouth and slurped up the loose strands. It was only then he realized how hungry he was. Despite being too salty, too cooked and obviously from a packet, he woofed down half and then slurped some of the flavoured water, licking his lips. He hadn't eaten since, since.

After a minute he gave up and chewed slowly, trying to make it last.

She stilled watched him.

She always looks ready to run, yet determined to stay. Like a mouse with an attitude. Jin laughed under his breath between mouthfuls at the thought receiving a quizzical look from the girl. Swallowing that mouthful he took another, dangling them above his mouth. Her eyes followed him intently, or to be more precise, the noodles. Her mouth practically watered and her eyes hunted them like a bird of prey. Swallowing, he handed her what was left.

Eyeing it with a mixture of suspicion and gratitude, she grudgingly shook her head, pushing it back towards him. "You eat it, you'll need your strength," she said looking pointedly at his chest. "I really can't understand why you're not dead." Her expression however spoke otherwise. Her smile became smug and knowing. "You're also damned heavy."

For the first time Jin really noticed. His black cloak was gone and after inspection, what was left was folded neatly on a crate. His bare chest was heavily bandaged and so tight it almost hurt. Over his heart was a red stain. He touched it lightly and the pain shot through him, stars twinkling in front of his eyes. He gasped at its ferocity.

"Didn't believe me so you just had to touch it didn't you?" she snickered. She stood up and took his coat. She handed it to him carefully, still wary. She was very unnerving.

"Put it on or you'll stuff yourself worse. You wouldn't think it but you probably could stuff yourself even worse. Winds sometimes come off the water are very cold."

"Thankyou." He slung it over his shoulders, leaving the hood down. They sat enjoying the comfort of the fire until the girl yawed, rubbing her temples and swearing in English. She looked up at the windows where the moons ghostly light shone though a little. Groaning she swore again.

"Can you speak English?" she asked with a tinge of annoyance.

"Easily," he replied doing so.

"Good," she muttered switching. "Now I can stop thinking I haven't spoken Japanese since I left school. We had to do a language from Grade Six and up. Ten years and a still talk like some demented insane asylum escapee."

"You're 16?" He arched an eyebrow sceptically. She couldn't be.

"What you look like an old bugger to me."

His eyes widened in shock, but then dropped to the floor. His life couldn't have been that of any normal child. He guessed that shock, after loss, after betrayal had taken its toll on him. He felt old. "I'm 19."

Blatantly ignoring his uncomfortableness at the situation, she pressed him. "Nup, you got old eyes, like you've seen a lot."

"I have."

Her ears pricked and leaned forward eagerly. "Do tell."

He didn't answer and they fell into a thoughtful silence, watching the embers. Jin shuddered, as his dream came back as vivid as when it had happened. Trying to shake his thoughts, he asked her, "So what's your name?"

"What's yours?" she retorted automatically.

He hesitated but when he saw her smug smile creeping back onto her face he said carefully. "Jin." He frowned as the girl flinched. It hurt but he understood. Jin meant demon, a name fitting for one such as he. He looked at her expectantly and she finally answered.

"Akira." Her face fought to choose an expression. When none could be decided, she settled on blank.

"I mean no offence, but that's a male name, and you don't look Japanese."

"I'm not. I'm Thai. My family came to Sydney when I was six on a boat. The bugger who did our passports was an American and thought it would be safer if our family was Japanese because of the border problems at the time. Must have plucked the names from the air." After a moment she added, "My name was Tip, we came from a mountain village."

"Would you like me to call you Tip?" he asked gently. She was sweet, a bit whiffy but sweet.

She shook her head with a grin. "Nah, a tip round here means garbage dump. Akira sounds more exotic."

"So was that Muay Thai?"

"A bit of everything. The village boys taught me kick boxing because it was funny. As long as I kept on being funny, the more they taught me. Then I came here and my dad wouldn't let me learn it anymore. He said we had to be Australian. So the boys at school taught me what they knew. Lots off stuff. I have a lot of time on my hands so I can practice a lot." Her head dropped onto her knees hugged to her chest morosely, thinking of her mother, her father and all her brothers and sisters in Sidney.

"Do they live near here?" Jin asked sympathetically.

She blinked, her eyes popping. "Brisbane is a long way from Sydney mate, you're way off."

He too stared at her in revelation. He had crossed the equator! The devil! Now he wondered at its powers even more. The Land Down Under, if he was going to hide from Heihatchi there was no better place. Her eyes probed harder, willing him to continue talking and answer her internal questions.

"How did you do this?" he asked flippantly, trying to deflect anymore questions. His hand hovered above the bloodstain but remembered its sting.

Akira blew on her fingers and rubbed them on her tattered blue shirt. "Practice makes perfect," she returned cryptically, the edge of her mouth almost curling.

Intrigued, Jin pressed. "On the children in the street?"

"No, cats. Their always getting glass pieces in their paws or shrapnel in their sides."

"What happened to the cats?"

"They died." Without waiting, she hopped to her feet and ordered, "Go back to sleep. I'm not going to be here when you wake up but I advise you don't move a whole lot. In fact, stay here, don't move. If the pain gets bad, take as many of these as you can without killing yourself." She dug into her pocket and produced a box. She tossed it too him. In the dim light, he thought it read laxative but his English was out of practice and he doubted the girl would be so cruel. He remembered that smirk she had given him and thought otherwise. When he looked up, Akira was leaping form beam to beam before disappearing beyond the firelight.

Well I feel fine, he thought firmly.

And I'm sure the cats did too…….