backward between my legs, but this time I was ready for her. Instead of following through with the side mount, I waited until she was just about to move, and I got my hooks in. Now she was trapped on her stomach with me on her back, and my feet hooked under her legs. It was about the worst position you could be in. Even worse than being pinned down with your own arm and given noogies.
“Moo for me, Jo,” I said.
She couldn’t moo; she was laughing too hard, which bounced me around, but only pressed her into the mat harder.
“Time! Line it up!” Nolan shouted to the class, studiously ignoring us.
We hustled off the floor, into the lineup with the other four students, and bowed out for the day. While the others packed up their pads and gear, I caught Nolan heading back to his office. “Got a minute?”
“Just one. Shoot.”
“That hold that Jo always gets me in? How the hell do you get out of it?”
Nolan frowned again. “You can’t really; you have to act on it as soon as you feel her intent. Anticipate it, and don’t get into it in the first place. Don’t give her the opening.”
“Easier said than done,” I muttered.
“That’s why I’m here, Red. To beat your bad habits out of you. You’ve already got the instinct. You’re starting to set Johanna up, exploiting her bad habits; you got her good because you just wanted to beat her badly enough. You didn’t stop to think. And don’t I keep telling you? Fighting is like sex or chess: once you get in the groove, you’re better off not over-thinking it. But not too shoddy, tonight, Red. Not too shoddy.”
I was almost wiggling, I was so pleased with his praise. “Thanks, Nolan.”
He grinned a wolf ’s grin. “All you have to do now is improve yourself.”
“Oh, great. Very helpful, thanks. See you Thursday.”
“Thursday it is, Red.”
I ignored his use of my hated nickname—Nolan not only could isolate your physical weaknesses, he could also pinpoint your emotional Achilles heel as well—and went out onto the floor to collect my towel, water, and gear. I met Jo on the way out.
Just then a gaggle of students from the aerobics class burst into the hall by the door to the gym.
“Man, is Sheila tough or what? I thought she was going to set her Lycra on fire!”
“She’s been pushing us really hard lately,” another agreed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow.”
Jo and I exchanged a glance, smiled to ourselves. Yes, the aerobic class looked like they’d had a good workout, but if they’d been training with Nolan, they’d be puddles of paté by now.
“Catch you Thursday?” we said at the same time, and then nodded in unison.
I stopped for a drink of water before I hit the parking lot. The evening air was warm heavy with humidity, yet still fresher than the sweaty, air-conditioned gym. The light was starting to fade finally from the sky, and the damned crickets were at it already. Still. I hate crickets; they always seem to be telling me how late it is.
I’d almost reached my car, parked beneath one of the lampposts, when I heard someone call my name. I turned; it was Nolan.
I furrowed my brow. Seeing Nolan outside the gym seemed wrong, somehow, like seeing Superman at the mall picking out tights.
“Dr. Fielding! There’s a call, they said it was urgent”—he trotted over to me—“I’m glad I caught you. He said it was Brian, that he—” Then he suddenly stopped, frowned. “Why did they call me? Why not your cell phone?”
“I don’t know—what about Brian?” I asked.
That’s when the first shot rang out.
Chapter 13
NOLAN SHOVED ME HARD, BACKWARD.
Time slowed down. The light from the lamp dimmed, narrowed. It seemed that I could count the instants it took me to fall. I tried to fling my arms out to break my fall, but the pavement came rushing up all too fast.
Another shot followed the first.
“Get down!” Nolan shouted as he threw himself on top of me.
I couldn’t believe how hot it was outside. The sweat was pouring down me in rivers, it felt like, and my head and back hurt like hell, but was fading to numbness.
All I could hear were the damned crickets. A door slamming somewhere in the distance. The squeal of tires.
Maybe it was another trick of time, but Nolan was taking a long time to get off me.
“The car…we should try to get cover,” I could hear myself