Way of The Warrior Kid 3: Where There's A Will... #1 Self Empowerment Book For Kids! 1st Edition Jocko Willink
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where there’s a WILL...
ALSO BY JOCKO WILLINK
JOCKO WILLINK
ILLUSTRATED BY JON BOZAK
Way of the Warrior Kid III is published under Jocko Publishing, a sectionalized division in
association with Di Angelo Publications INC.
JOCKO PUBLISHING
In association with Di Angelo Publications 4265 San Felipe #1100
Houston, Texas, 77027
Way of the Warrior Kid III Copyright 2019 Jocko Willink. Illustrated by Jon Bozak. In digital and
print distribution in the United States of America.
www.jockopublishing.com www.diangelopublications.com
ISBN-10: 1-942549-48-2
ISBN-13: 978-1-942549-48-2
Facilitated by: Di Angelo Publications Designed and illustrated by: Jon Bozak
First Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
No part of this book may be copied or distributed without the author and publisher’s written and
approved permission. For educational and entertainment purposes, this book may be ordered in bulk
through Di Angelo Publications.
1. Children’s fiction
2. Children’s Fiction ——Narrative ——United States of America with int. Distribution.
This book is dedicated to
the courageous Frogmen of SEAL Team Three, Task Unit Bruiser.
We have all kinds of fun all the time. And these guys pretty
much looked up to me. I was like a leader, just like my Uncle
Jake told me I would be. I like being a leader. And I felt like I
was a leader—until today. Because today was the day when
Danny Rhinehart arrived at my school. First of all, who shows
up at school with only three days left? I get that he just moved
here, but still, it’s just silly!
Why would someone do that? Anyway, he ended up coming
into our homeroom with Mr. Oglethorpe.
Now, Danny seemed really nice when I first met him. He was
all smiles and super polite to everyone. Maybe a little too nice!
He was actually pretty tall, too—maybe a couple inches taller
than me. He ended up getting put at our table because Jennifer
Garston went with her parents to Minnesota for the summer and
left school a few days early. And because he was only around
for the last three days of school, Mr. Oglethorpe asked if Danny
could just kind of stay with me for the day.
So, we finished homeroom and then went to math class.
Because school was almost over, we were just doing some
games in math. We had to see who could finish problems the
quickest and who knew the most math facts. And even though
Danny was new to the class, he did really well. REALLY WELL.
He knew the answer to just about every question. His hand
would shoot up every time the teacher asked any question at
all.
But when it got to the mile run, I figured I could take him—
and even win first place since Iris had broken her ankle in the
spring and still wasn’t allowed to run. So, since I got second last
year, I figured with Iris out of the race, it was mine for the
taking!
My class and Mr. Blackwell’s class lined up for the race. The
P.E. teacher, Mr. Sadolwski, then looked at us all and said, “On
your mark, get set, GO!”
I sprang off the line and started to run hard. I wanted to get
away from the rest of the kids and be out there on my own and
away from the rest of the pack. In a race, the slower kids
slowed me down if they were ahead of me. Not this time. I
sprinted hard and got ahead of the pack. It didn’t take long
before I was in the lead, out in front of everyone, on my own.
Once out in front, I didn’t even look back. Uncle Jake told
me when racing, if you look around, you lose time and
momentum, so I just kept charging ahead at a solid speed.
But being in first place wasn’t enough—I wanted to make
sure I not only beat Danny, but crushed him! So I ran really
hard. Really hard!
Then, as I rounded one of the corners, I noticed someone
just a bit behind me. And of course, it was Danny! So I ran a
little harder. It was a long straight away, so I just tried to run
even harder, but I was already out of breath. I had to slow
down just a little bit. But I thought I was far enough ahead of
Danny to beat him.
As I slowed down, I kind of got my breath back, but I was
still hurting.
Now, as I continued down the straightaway, I couldn’t tell
where Danny was without looking—and I needed to know. So,
despite what Uncle Jake had taught me, I turned my head and
looked behind me to see where Danny was. I saw him, and he
WAS GAINING ON ME! That’s right! Despite how hard I was
running, Danny was running even faster.
I couldn’t believe it! So I tried to pick up my pace a little
more, but I just couldn’t. My lungs were already burning!
But Danny wasn’t slowing down. He was getting closer and
closer to me. I could hear him breathing, and he was breathing
HARD! Even harder than me.
I started to get mad! Mad that he was beating me—not just
at this race, but at everything! So I decided I would try to run
harder so I could stay ahead of him. We didn’t have that much
farther to go, so I stepped it up. But it wasn’t enough. Moments
later, Danny was right next to me. He was breathing like crazy. I
looked at him from the corner of my eye, and he looked like he
was going to die! If I could just hold on a little longer, I thought
he might break!
But he didn’t. He kept straining and breathing and fighting,
and I just couldn’t keep running so fast. My lungs just couldn’t
take it anymore. So I backed off. I let it go.
And as soon as I did, Danny pulled ahead of me. Not just by
a little bit either. No! As I slowed down, he actually sped up and
started running even faster!
Language: English
By JACK VANCE
Illustrated by ENGLE
Matters had not always been so. The Relict retained a few tattered
recollections of the old days, before system and logic had been
rendered obsolete. Man had dominated Earth by virtue of a single
assumption: that an effect could be traced to a cause, itself the effect
of a previous cause.
Manipulation of this basic law yielded rich results; there seemed no
need for any other tool or instrumentality. Man congratulated himself
on his generalized structure. He could live on desert, on plain or ice,
in forest or in city; Nature had not shaped him to a special
environment.
He was unaware of his vulnerability. Logic was the special
environment; the brain was the special tool.
Then came the terrible hour when Earth swam into a pocket of non-
causality, and all the ordered tensions of cause-effect dissolved. The
special tool was useless; it had no purchase on reality. From the two
billions of men, only a few survived—the mad. They were now the
Organisms, lords of the era, their discords so exactly equivalent to
the vagaries of the land as to constitute a peculiar wild wisdom. Or
perhaps the disorganized matter of the world, loose from the old
organization, was peculiarly sensitive to psycho-kinesis.
A handful of others, the Relicts, managed to exist, but only through a
delicate set of circumstances. They were the ones most strongly
charged with the old causal dynamic. It persisted sufficiently to
control the metabolism of their bodies, but could extend no further.
They were fast dying out, for sanity provided no leverage against the
environment. Sometimes their own minds sputtered and jangled, and
they would go raving and leaping out across the plain.
The Organisms observed with neither surprise nor curiosity; how
could surprise exist? The mad Relict might pause by an Organism,
and try to duplicate the creature's existence. The Organism ate a
mouthful of plant; so did the Relict. The Organism rubbed his feet
with crushed water; so did the Relict. Presently the Relict would die
of poison or rent bowels or skin lesions, while the Organism relaxed
in the dank black grass. Or the Organism might seek to eat the
Relict; and the Relict would run off in terror, unable to abide any part
of the world—running, bounding, breasting the thick air; eyes wide,
mouth open, calling and gasping until finally he floundered in a pool
of black iron or blundered into a vacuum pocket, to bat around like a
fly in a bottle.
The Relicts now numbered very few. Finn, he who crouched on the
rock overlooking the plain, lived with four others. Two of these were
old men and soon would die. Finn likewise would die unless he
found food.
Out on the plain one of the Organisms, Alpha, sat down, caught a
handful of air, a globe of blue liquid, a rock, kneaded them together,
pulled the mixture like taffy, gave it a great heave. It uncoiled from
his hand like rope. The Relict crouched low. No telling what devilry
would occur to the creature. He and all the rest of them—
unpredictable! The Relict valued their flesh as food; but they also
would eat him if opportunity offered. In the competition he was at a
great disadvantage. Their random acts baffled him. If, seeking to
escape, he ran, the worst terror would begin. The direction he set his
face was seldom the direction the varying frictions of the ground let
him move. But the Organisms were as random and uncommitted as
the environment, and the double set of vagaries sometimes
compounded, sometimes canceled each other. In the latter case the
Organisms might catch him....
It was inexplicable. But then, what was not? The word "explanation"
had no meaning.
They were moving toward him; had they seen him? He flattened
himself against the sullen yellow rock.
The two Organisms paused not far away. He could hear their
sounds, and crouched, sick from conflicting pangs of hunger and
fear.
Alpha sank to his knees, lay flat on his back, arms and legs flung out
at random, addressing the sky in a series of musical cries, sibilants,
guttural groans. It was a personal language he had only now
improvised, but Beta understood him well.
"A vision," cried Alpha, "I see past the sky. I see knots, spinning
circles. They tighten into hard points; they will never come undone."
Beta perched on a pyramid, glanced over this shoulder at the
mottled sky.
"An intuition," chanted Alpha, "a picture out of the other time. It is
hard, merciless, inflexible."
Beta poised on the pyramid, dove through the glassy surface, swam
under Alpha, emerged, lay flat beside him.
"Observe the Relict on the hillside. In his blood is the whole of the
old race—the narrow men with minds like cracks. He has exuded the
intuition. Clumsy thing—a blunderer," said Alpha.
"They are all dead, all of them," said Beta. "Although three or four
remain." (When past, present and future are no more than ideas left
over from another era, like boats on a dry lake—then the completion
of a process can never be defined.)
Alpha said, "This is the vision. I see the Relicts swarming the Earth;
then whisking off to nowhere, like gnats in the wind. This is behind
us."
The Organisms lay quiet, considering the vision.
A rock, or perhaps a meteor, fell from the sky, struck into the surface
of the pond. It left a circular hole which slowly closed. From another
part of the pool a gout of fluid splashed into the air, floated away.
Alpha spoke: "Again—the intuition comes strong! There will be lights
in the sky."
The fever died in him. He hooked a finger into the air, hoisted himself
to his feet.
Beta lay quiet. Slugs, ants, flies, beetles were crawling on him,
boring, breeding. Alpha knew that Beta could arise, shake off the
insects, stride off. But Beta seemed to prefer passivity. That was well
enough. He could produce another Beta should he choose, or a
dozen of him. Sometimes the world swarmed with Organisms, all
sorts, all colors, tall as steeples, short and squat as flower-pots.
"I feel a lack," said Alpha. "I will eat the Relict." He set forth, and
sheer chance brought him near to the ledge of yellow rock. Finn the
Relict sprang to his feet in panic.
Temporarily his belly was full. He started back up the crag, and
presently found the camp, where the four other Relicts waited—two
ancient males, two females. The females, Gisa and Reak, like Finn,
had been out foraging. Gisa had brought in a slab of lichen; Reak a
bit of nameless carrion.
The old men, Boad and Tagart, sat quietly waiting either for food or
for death.
The women greeted Finn sullenly. "Where is the food you went forth
to find?"
"I had a whole carcass," said Finn. "I could not carry it."
Boad had slyly stolen the slab of lichen and was cramming it into his
mouth. It came alive, quivered and exuded a red ichor which was
poison, and the old man died.
"Now there is food," said Finn. "Let us eat."
But the poison created a putrescence; the body seethed with blue
foam, flowed away of its own energy.
The women turned to look at the other old man, who said in a
quavering voice, "Eat me if you must—but why not choose Reak,
who is younger than I?"
Reak, the younger of the women, gnawing on the bit of carrion,
made no reply.
Finn said hollowly, "Why do we worry ourselves? Food is ever more
difficult, and we are the last of all men."
"No, no," spoke Reak. "Not the last. We saw others on the green
mound."
"That was long ago," said Gisa. "Now they are surely dead."
"Perhaps they have found a source of food," suggested Reak.
Finn rose to his feet, looked across the plain. "Who knows? Perhaps
there is a more pleasant land beyond the horizon."
"There is nothing anywhere but waste and evil creatures," snapped
Gisa.
"What could be worse than here?" Finn argued calmly.
No one could find grounds for disagreement.
"Here is what I propose," said Finn. "Notice this tall peak. Notice the
layers of hard air. They bump into the peak, they bounce off, they
float in and out and disappear past the edge of sight. Let us all climb
this peak, and when a sufficiently large bank of air passes, we will
throw ourselves on top, and allow it to carry us to the beautiful
regions which may exist just out of sight."
There was argument. The old man Tagart protested his feebleness;
the women derided the possibility of the bountiful regions Finn
envisioned, but presently, grumbling and arguing, they began to
clamber up the pinnacle.
It took a long time; the obsidian was soft as jelly, and Tagart several
times professed himself at the limit of his endurance. But still they
climbed, and at last reached the pinnacle. There was barely room to
stand. They could see in all directions, far out over the landscape, till
vision was lost in the watery gray.
The women bickered and pointed in various directions, but there was
small sign of happier territory. In one direction blue-green hills
shivered like bladders full of oil. In another direction lay a streak of
black—a gorge or a lake of clay. In another direction were blue-
green hills—the same they had seen in the first direction; somehow
there had been a shift. Below was the plain, gleaming like an
iridescent beetle, here and there pocked with black velvet spots,
overgrown with questionable vegetation.
They saw Organisms, a dozen shapes loitering by ponds, munching
vegetable pods or small rocks or insects. There came Alpha. He
moved slowly, still awed by his vision, ignoring the other Organisms.
Their play went on, but presently they stood quiet, sharing the
oppression.
On the obsidian peak, Finn caught hold of a passing filament of air,
drew it in. "Now—all on, and we sail away to the Land of Plenty."
"No," protested Gisa, "there is no room, and who knows if it will fly in
the right direction?"
"Where is the right direction?" asked Finn. "Does anyone know?"
No one knew, but the women still refused to climb aboard the
filament. Finn turned to Tagart. "Here, old one, show these women
how it is; climb on!"
"No, no," he cried. "I fear the air; this is not for me."
"Climb on, old man, then we follow."
Wheezing and fearful, clenching his hands deep into the spongy
mass, Tagart pulled himself out onto the air, spindly shanks hanging
over into nothing. "Now," spoke Finn, "who next?"
The women still refused. "You go then, yourself," cried Gisa.
"And leave you, my last guarantee against hunger? Aboard now!"
"No. The air is too small; let the old one go and we will follow on a
larger."
"Very well." Finn released his grip. The air floated off over the plain,
Tagart straddling and clutching for dear life.
They watched him curiously. "Observe," said Finn, "how fast and
easily moves the air. Above the Organisms, over all the slime and
uncertainty."
But the air itself was uncertain, and the old man's raft dissolved.
Clutching at the departing wisps, Tagart sought to hold his cushion
together. It fled from under him, and he fell.
On the peak the three watched the spindly shape flap and twist on its
way to earth far below.
"Now," Reak exclaimed vexatiously, "we even have no more meat."
"None," said Gisa, "except the visionary Finn himself."
They surveyed Finn. Together they would more than outmatch him.
"Careful," cried Finn. "I am the last of the Men. You are my women,
subject to my orders."
They ignored him, muttering to each other, looking at him from the
side of their faces. "Careful!" cried Finn. "I will throw you both from
this peak."
"That is what we plan for you," said Gisa.
They advanced with sinister caution.
"Stop! I am the last Man!"
"We are better off without you."
"One moment! Look at the Organisms!"
The women looked. The Organisms stood in a knot, staring at the
sky.
"Look at the sky!"
The women looked; the frosted glass was cracking, breaking, curling
aside.
"The blue! The blue sky of old times!"
A terribly bright light burnt down, seared their eyes. The rays
warmed their naked backs.
"The sun," they said in awed voices. "The sun has come back to
Earth."
The shrouded sky was gone; the sun rode proud and bright in a sea
of blue. The ground below churned, cracked, heaved, solidified.
They felt the obsidian harden under their feet; its color shifted to
glossy black. The Earth, the sun, the galaxy, had departed the region
of freedom; the other time with its restrictions and logic was once
more with them.
"This is Old Earth," cried Finn. "We are Men of Old Earth! The land is
once again ours!"
"And what of the Organisms?"
"If this is the Earth of old, then let the Organisms beware!"
The Organisms stood on a low rise of ground beside a runnel of
water that was rapidly becoming a river flowing out onto the plain.
Alpha cried, "Here is my intuition! It is exactly as I knew. The
freedom is gone; the tightness, the constriction are back!"
"How will we defeat it?" asked another Organism.
"Easily," said a third. "Each must fight a part of the battle. I plan to
hurl myself at the sun, and blot it from existence." And he crouched,
threw himself into the air. He fell on his back and broke his neck.
"The fault," said Alpha, "is in the air; because the air surrounds all
things."
Six Organisms ran off in search of air and, stumbling into the river,
drowned.
"In any event," said Alpha, "I am hungry." He looked around for
suitable food. He seized an insect which stung him. He dropped it.
"My hunger remains."
He spied Finn and the two women descending from the crag. "I will
eat one of the Relicts," he said. "Come, let us all eat."
Three of them started off—as usual in random directions. By chance
Alpha came face to face with Finn. He prepared to eat, but Finn
picked up a rock. The rock remained a rock, hard, sharp, heavy. Finn
swung it down, taking joy in the inertia. Alpha died with a crushed
skull. One of the other Organisms attempted to step across a
crevasse twenty feet wide and disappeared into it; the other sat
down, swallowed rocks to assuage his hunger, and presently went
into convulsions.
Finn pointed here and there around the fresh new land. "In that
quarter, the new city, like that of the legends. Over here the farms,
the cattle."
"We have none of these," protested Gisa.
"No," said Finn. "Not now. But once more the sun rises and sets,
once more rock has weight and air has none. Once more water falls
as rain and flows to the sea." He stepped forward over the fallen
Organism. "Let us make plans."
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