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Chapter 10

Hero

‘You’re going to need to get fit. Very fit.’

Hero tried to look confident, but he was so nervous he’d barely slept the previous night.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘There’re many reasons,’ said the Light Master. ‘Firstly, because the mind and body are linked. The healthier you are, the more you can focus and the faster you’ll be. Secondly, because your body needs to be able to handle this pace. Your bones need to be able to cope with being able to move very fast without breaking, and you need to be very flexible. You’ll need to do yoga to stretch your muscles, tendons, and ligaments. And last but not least, everyone loves a guy with a good body. Now you’re not going to tell me that doesn’t motivate you at least a little bit, are you, son?’

Hero laughed nervously.

‘Okay, well, let’s get started, then. James?’

‘Come on, bruv. Let’s take a short run.’

Hero was silent. His chest tightened as memories of past attempts at running during PE zipped through his mind.

I feel sick.

He sat down next to James to put on his trainers. James opened a cupboard and took out two watches and two elastic straps with a black box in the centre.

‘What’re those?’ Hero asked.

‘Heart rate monitors. Put the watch on. The strap goes around your chest like this.’ James demonstrated.

Hero followed suit and, sure enough, his heart rate was soon showing on the watch.

‘Right, then. A 10K should be good for starters,’ James announced.

‘What?’

‘Only joking, bruv. Let’s start with two miles. An easy one.’

Two miles? An easy one? For you, maybe. I’m carrying around a lot more extra padding than you, mate.

‘Seriously, I don’t think I can run a hundred yards.’

‘Come on, stop being a tart.’

The cold night air was sharp on his tongue, invigorating to his lungs. James looked so loose and svelte that it was difficult not to admire his elegance. I hope I don’t see anyone I know, especially Tom. He’d be laughing his tits off tomorrow.

Before they’d reached the first corner, his trainers were grating against his heels and his shins were crying out in terror of the pavement. The air stabbed cold daggers into his lungs.

He slowed to a walk, coughing and trying not to vomit. ‘James. Got to stop. Can’t do this.’

‘Yes, you can, bruv.’

‘I can’t. It hurts.’

James put his arm around his shoulders. ‘Bruv, everybody hurts the first time. Do you think I didn’t collapse in a heap on my first run?’

Hero raised his eyebrows incredulously.

‘It always hurts the first time, but the pain goes away. That’s why we’re going to take it easy. Every time it hurts, we’ll stop and walk. Then when you feel better, we’ll jog again. Soon you’ll be running 10K before breakfast.’

He can’t be serious.

‘Do you trust me?’

No. ‘Of course.’

‘I promise you, it will happen. You’re going too hard at the start. Everyone does that. Keep your heart rate between one fifty and one seventy. If it goes higher, slow down. If it goes lower, speed up. Simple. Now come on, bruv, stop titting around, and let’s do this.’

Hero started to jog again, one eye on his wrist monitor. His brother was right. At one hundred and seventy-two, his legs and lungs started to burn. He slowed down and felt better almost immediately.

So that’s it, then. I really can do this. Why did no one ever tell me this before?

It was the rush again, only this time it was no dream. Hero felt it every time he came here, every time he trained. It was as if it was meant to be. His heart had started to open, and he realised he was exactly where he was supposed to be at this point in his life. Lightness, acceptance, and joy burst through him like high- pressure water into a previously uncharted network of pipes.

The one hundred and twenty-eight moves of the t’ai chi long form took a while to move through, but it gave him time to think. The term ‘t’ai chi’ always made him laugh. Trust the Chinese to label a martial art ‘the supreme ultimate fist’. They’re always so literal.

What’d been almost impossible over the first few weeks now felt easy and natural, as though he’d been doing it forever. It had become so natural that sometimes he imagined meeting up with Fi again. She would put his hand on his chest. Her eyes would widen, and her lips would moisten a little. He would pull her closer in his strong, manly arms—

He opened his eyes as he finished the forms. The Light Master stood in front of him wearing an enigmatic smile.

‘Let me introduce you to our special room, Hero,’ he said.

What now? He scratched the back of his hand as if he were trying to scrub out a stain.

He followed the master towards the back of the gym, and they stepped inside what appeared to be an empty broom closet. The door closed behind Hero. There was a set of buttons on the right-hand wall. The master pressed one, and the room jolted. Hero realised that it was in fact a lift.

‘I won’t lie, this part of the training is quite intense.’

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the master opened the door.

The cold, dry rush of conditioned air on Hero’s face smelled stale and sweaty, like week-old laundry. There was a constant whoosh of air from a large inflow pipe on the ceiling. The nervous knot in his stomach clenched as he realised he was looking at another gym—an advanced, ultra-high-tech gym. Mirrors down the front wall faced a row of bikes and, behind that, a bank of running machines. It was a strange contrast with the old- fashioned gym upstairs, giving him the impression of moving forward in time.

‘Ooh, the infamous Hero,’ called Emma from one of the training bikes.

Jane waved from a running mill.

‘In here, we keep the oxygen level lower, simulating training at three thousand metres of altitude,’ the Light Master said.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘It stimulates your body to be more efficient with oxygen. When you’re at virtual sea level, you’ll find you’re capable of a lot more, both physically and mentally.’

The air had a strange tinge, as if all the colours were more vibrant than normal. Every surface seemed to have a sharper edge, as if he were at the very edge of needing sleep, but without any sense of tiredness.

Maybe that’s why they call it ‘getting high’.

‘Get on one of the bikes,’ said the master.

Hero climbed gingerly onto the nearest bike.

‘Put your feet in the straps.’

The bike beeped then whirred, and the saddle height and distance from the handlebars adjusted by themselves. Hero sat up nervously.

‘It automatically fits itself to the perfect riding position.’ The master turned and walked to a box in a corner of the gym.

A projector screen descended from the ceiling.

Emma looked across, drawing air through her teeth, and grinned. ‘I’m sorry, Hero. This is gonna hurt.’

He swallowed hard. He hated being sick, especially all over the floor. He’d have to clean it up then, and that would be even worse.