The Contaminated: Where Were You When The Pandemic Hit? by Kypers Ryan

Author:Kypers, Ryan [Kypers, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Infected
Published: 2020-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

“It’s my training schedule, but don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.” I lied.

We made our way out to the field equipped with three baseball bats and a wrench. I was fortunate that my basement was filled with the aluminum bats. My father had been an avid softball player as he aged and my brothers and I had all played little league baseball and each had a bat of our own. Needless to say, I had a plethora of aluminum clubs to smash faces in with.

The training started with us jogging around the field, which took Zach some convincing to do. He finally agreed to do it, whether it was because I promised to carry the wrench with me as a weapon against the contaminated or a motivation for him to run, I don’t know, but it worked.

We completed our lap and Zach and I stayed back as Chelsea kept on running. “She’s a real workhorse,” Zach said through gasping breaths. “I barely made that.”

“Well, you’ll feel it tomorrow, trust me,” I said as I pulled over the bucket of baseballs and his bat. “We’re going to work on your swing now. Show me a practice swing.”

He took the bat and held it in a right handed stance with left handed grip: the left hand above the right hand while facing the plate from the right side. He took a swing full of stiffness and off balanced feet. He shook his head in disappointment, “I told you I was bad at this.”

So I would have to start him out more fresh than I thought, “Well, yeah. But it is somewhat easy to pick up. Let me show you,” I walked behind him, placing him in an open stance. I fixed his hands and aligned his knuckles while spreading his feet wider and bending them at the knee. “Do you feel the balance here?” I asked.

“Well, sort of,” he replied.

“Take another swing.”

He swung again, this time he almost fell forward towards the plate. “Nope, not feeling it.”

“You’re not putting your hips into it, and your wrists are stiff as boards,” I moved over to him and placed my hands on his hips. “Don’t worry, I very much like my girlfriend and am doing this in her defense.”

“Not what it looks like to me,” Chelsea said as she passed us, completing another lap. She laughed as she kept jogging towards the next baseball field.

“Whatever. Just rotate your hips like this and give your wrists good movement and your swing will be much more fluid with power,” I said. “Now swing again.”

And he did, probably the most glorious third swing ever taken by an individual. I doubted that I was an amazing teacher, but he did catch on quickly. This was good. We moved on to soft toss so that he could get a feel for the swing.

We were doing the soft toss for about fifteen minutes when Chelsea approached me from behind, tapping me on the shoulder and pointing to the end of the field.

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