Mark Judah: Chosen

Chapter 1 Dallas Texas

                   WHOSE MARK JUDAH?

         "A family that eats together, stays
together."
                            -KezTown

         "It's never too late to be what you
might've been."
                          -George Eliot

         "I am the master of my fate, the
captain of my soul."
                 -William Ernest Henley

                 ¡372 HOURS BEFORE
                       APOCALYPSE!

    It was 99° out. The sky was clear, and the sun was high that afternoon. The weather was great to spend the day swimming, or boating.
    However, these things weren't on the minds of the men inside the garage size shed, located on a quarter acre of land. Behind a small one-story home.
    Outside, everything appeared normal. As always, the two Kangal shepherds made their rounds around the fenced in yard. The wind, though not much, shook the leaves on the trees behind the shed.
    None of these things were on the minds of those inside that shed.

     Mark judah

    The foot sweep came quick. If I would've reacted half a second slower, I'd be lying flat on my back. However, I took a quick step back, then came in with a combination of my own. He countered it all.
    "Is that all you've got today?" My
opponent asked. Then, threw a left hook.
     I saw it coming.
     Taking a step to my right, I used an
outward block to block the incoming blow.
At the same time, I grabbed his wrist. Twisting it, I used wrist control forcing him to bend over just enough to deliver a
roundhouse kick, at half power, to his solar plexus. The result, his breath fled him.
    The moment the kick landed, he firmly
grabbed my ankle with his right hand, then kicked my other foot from under me which resulted in me falling to the ground.
From the ground I looked over and saw
Zachariah Benjamin trying to catch his
breath. I laughed, then said.
   "I can live with that cheating foot sweep, but that kick at full speed would've finished you."
    He couldn't yet respond, so he just waved me off.
    Zachariah Benjamin, or as he was known, "Captain Benjamin", was a retired Special Forces Commander. Being forty-seven years old, and retired only four years, he's still considered one of the best in the spec ops world. For recreation, he flew people around in his own private plane.
     I've known Zechariah since before I could remember. Him and my dad were close friends before he'd passed almost five years ago. Zechariah's been there for me through the good, the bad, and the ugly. He's the type of man that can be relied upon.
    After catching his breath, he asked me.
"What do you plan on doing for your
birthday weekend?"
As I laid there, I thought of the upcoming
weekend, and my plans.
    "Well, it 'is' my thirtieth birthday, that means I have to do it muy grande,
comprendes? Or, in other words, I'm going to Las Vegas"
    "Vegas?" He asked with a skeptical look.
    "Why in the heavens are you going to that evil place? You're not into gambling, nor
hookers." He paused and raised an eyebrow at me. Then, continued. "So, how can you expect to have any fun in such a dreadful place?"
    "Well, for one. There's a big UFC fight this weekend, of which I'm a big fan. Top five for sure. I got front row seats, and VIP passes. This fight's really my soul purpose for the trip." I paused, then added as if I'd forgotten.
   "Oh, yeah. And, a couple of escorts, also.
That 'is' what they're calling themselves
these days."
    "If your dad heard you say that..."
    Cutting him off, I said. "I was just kidding."
     He shook his head as if I were a child, then said.
   "Well, just be careful out there. The world's filling with crazies, you know?"
    "Understood, sir! Watch out for the
crazies, sir!"
    He laughed, then called me a name in
Hebrew that meant idiot. He, then, grabbed a towel and wiped at his sweaty body,
heading for the door.
    "Good sparring today."
    I quickly sat up.
   "Woah. Where do you think you're going, old man?"
   "To mind my business." He replied, walking out of the door. Then, paused, adding.
   "Do you need me to fly you?"
   "No, thank you. It's about time I put my big boy pants on."
He gave a slight chuckle, then said.
"If you need me, you know how to get
ahold of me." At that, he went out the door.
   I got up, and left my shed, which I'd
converted into a mini dojo. I watched as my fence opened to let Zechariah's white Dodge Durango SRT out of my driveway.
   As he pulled off, we waved goodbye, then I looked around outside. The summer heat felt nice on my skin. Hot, but not humid, just how I liked it.