Chapter 5

"NOOO! DAD! MOM!"

The terrified shriek of John came from his lips, waking him from the dream he had for the 2nd night in a row. He sat up, covered in sweat, breathing heavily in the dark.

"Dammit, I need to stop this shit," John muttered out loud, before taking a glance at the clock. '5AM. Lovely.'

John got out of bed. He walked a little ways into the suite, looking around at the furniture around the room. He scratched his head a few times as he looked around, before nodding to himself, then proceeding to move all the furniture to the sides of the room.

Once he cleared an area in the middle of the room, he stood in the center of the room, before kneeling down with his legs folded beneath him, and, resting his palms on his thighs, closed his eyes. Focusing on his breathing for a few minutes, he place his hands palm down, fingers facing each other, a little bit in front of his knees, before bowing forward, touching his head against the back of his hands. He straightened up, before repeating the bow twice. After straightening up the final time, he stood, posture relaxed, hands to the side. Then he started doing some stretching exercises, working out his arms, legs, and back.

John had taken karate when he was younger, and resumed when he found that there were classes available in high school. He enjoyed the clarity of mind he felt when he was working through the katas, or during the sparring sessions. Thoughts of the Westwoods, his family, or anything else would leave his mind during this time. And right now, he needed some clarity of mind.

As he worked through a simple kata, letting his body find the internal rhythm, his mind still had a few lingering thoughts. He was fairly adept at karate, yet he still wasn't ever able to defend himself whenever he was pushed around or provoked. He didn't even think the Westwoods knew that he was taking martial arts, and probably wouldn't have cared if they did. They believed him to be a wimp, that he did not have the ability to hurt anybody. John knew he couldn't do that either, so even though he was fairly advanced at karate, it was only used as a tool to help him escape his reality.

Thoughts drifted away from his mind as he finished his warm-up katas, before moving on to more advanced ones. At this point, his mind was focused on the movements his body was making, the ebb and flow of his arms and legs, the breathing that was his center. As he finished a fairly difficult kata, he felt the rush of endorphins, the "runner's high," flood his body from the base of the neck. He started his final kata, one that he had just mastered a few weeks ago. His body flowed from one move to the next, and suddenly he was done.

John stood there, breathing heavily for a moment, before stating his cool-off stretches. After he was done, he called room service to send up some breakfast, before jumping into the shower for a quick rinse. As he was brushing his teeth, he heard knocking on the door.

Quickly rinsing out his mouth, he went out to open the door. He only saw a glint of something shiny rapidly approach his face before he reacted instinctively, still hyped up from the kata session. He blocked the arm coming at him with a forearm block, before striking out with a palm strike from his opposite hand. As the fist connected with a man's chest, he realized who his assailant was. Brian Westwood. A thug to say the least, Brian enjoyed bullying around people, John most of all.

As Brian staggered back from the unexpected retaliation, John did the first thing that came to mind. He slammed the door shut, then set the deadbolt and the little latch. He stood there for a second, before he heard Brian's enraged scream right before the door shook violently.

As Brian attempted to break the door down, John ran to grab his cell phone, calling Mary's cell phone, the first person who came to mind. He thanked his lucky stars that the courier dropped off the cell phone at the hotel, which he picked up last night. He fooled around with it a little bit, putting in the few phone numbers that he had, before letting it charge overnight. As the phone was ringing, he heard the door crack as the relentless pounding continued.

"Hello?" Mary's voice sounded distorted with sleep.

"Mary! It's John. I need help! Brian's here, and he's trying to break the door down!" John was frantic.

"WHAT!" Mary screamed. "Get on the hotel phone and call for security RIGHT NOW!"

As John scrambled to the hotel phone, he heard the pounding stop for a moment, before he heard Brian's voice. "Get the fuck away from me, asshole!" before he heard a thump, and a groan. As the pounding resumed, he picked up the phone and called the front desk.

"Hello! This is room 626! There's someone trying to break into my room!"

"Excuse me? Hold on, please!" a startled feminine voice replied. John heard her yell to somebody "We have a situation yellow in room 626!" before coming back to the phone. "We have the manager coming up right now, and someone's notifying the authorities. I want you to leave the suite area, and go to the bedroom area, and deadbolt the door in between. Just put down the phone, and pick up the extension in the other room, okay?"