Splice by Z Z Adams

Author:Z Z Adams [Adams, Z Z]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: X04
Publisher: ZombieBear Productions
Published: 2020-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Heavyweights

Tony’s Boxing Gym at 5 a.m was the last place he expected to see Gunther. It wasn’t that Gunther didn’t work out. He did it regularly. It had been Gunther who had introduced him to the gym in the first place. It was just that he’d expected Gunther to show more caution, or more respect. The man had to know he would come for him, yet here he was, leaving his blue Ford pickup on the corner like it was just a regular Sunday morning, as if he didn’t care that he’d just fired rounds at the world’s first superhero and kidnapped his family. A trap perhaps? Or was Gunther really that naive?

Arthur shook his head as he got out of the car. Yellow lights pooled on the damp sidewalk, illuminating the cracked 1930s brick wall and the chipped concrete stairs and rusted banister. If it was a trap then so be it. He was done playing around. Let them come at him. He was more capable now than he’d ever been. He’d leap up the wall onto the ceiling and piss on them all from above.

Tony’s was an institution. There would be plenty of people training. It was a working gym, a real gym. If you didn’t like the twang of the speed ball, the body-blow thud of heavy bags, or the clanking of weights— if you weren’t at peace with the sound of struggle—then Tony’s was not the right gym for you.

He’d have to be on his game. Just in and out. He couldn’t afford to give Gunther or his team an opportunity to bail him up. Trap or no trap, he had only one target: Gunther.

There were times he wished he had super strength. That could be useful. He could bust right through the wall and pop Gunther’s head like a cantaloupe. That had to feel better in reality than he imagined it would.

He pushed open the door and headed inside.

Gunther was at the back, benching. He had some light weights on the bar, moving them up and down at a steady, measured pace. Arthur clenched a fist. Seeing Gunther lying there as though nothing had happened, like it was any other chest day—as though his family hadn’t been taken from their home—sent ripples of cold rage up along his back. He scanned the place for signs of others in Gunther’s team but there were only the usual crew. The oldtimers in the squat rack and a few gym bunnies running on the treadmill. Tony’s was essentially a rectangular box. There weren’t any ambush points inside, not really. So unless Gun had his men working out and they were going to jump on him gulag style, the inside of the gym was clear.

Gunther looked up when Arthur drew close. To his credit Gunther’s pupils barely moved as he registered Arthur. His nostrils flared, but it was nearly imperceptible. Only Arthur’s heightened senses allowed him to see the faint flicker of fear pass across Gunther’s face before a lifetime of training drained it away and the man was an iceberg once more.

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