Hard Rain Read Free Page B

I'm already done." (
    "C'mon, do another set. It inspires me. What are you putting up,
    twice your body weight?" My underestimate was deliberate.
    "More."
    "Shit, more than twice your body weight? That's what I'm talking
    about, I'm not even close to that. Do me a favor, do one more set,
    it'll motivate me. I'll spot you, fair enough?"
    He hesitated, then shrugged and started walking over to the bench-press
    station.
    The bar was already set up with the hundred and forty kilos he'd been
    using earlier. "Think you can handle a hundred and sixty?" I asked,
    my tone doubtful.
    He looked at me, and I could tell from his eyes that his ego had
    engaged. "I can handle it."
    "Okay, this I've got to see," I said, pulling two ten-kilo plates off
    the weight tree and sliding them onto the ends of the bar. I stood
    behind the bench and gripped the bar about shoulder-width with both
    hands. "Let me know when you're ready."
    He sat at the foot of the bench, his shoulders hunched forward, and
    rotated his neck from side to side. He swung his arms back and forth
    and I heard a series of short, forceful exhalations. Then he lay back
    and took hold of the bar.
    "Give me a lift on three," he said.
    I nodded.
    There were several additional sharp exhalations. Then: "One ... two
    ... three!"
    I helped him get the bar into the air and steady it over his chest. He
    was staring at the bar as though enraged by it, his chin sunk into his
    neck in preparation for the effort.
    Then he let it drop, controlling its descent but allowing enough
    momentum to ensure a good bounce off his massive chest. Two thirds of
    the way up, the bar almost stopped, suspended between the drag of
    gravity and the power of his steroid-fueled muscles, but it continued
    its shaky ascent until his elbows were straightened. His arms were
    trembling from the effort. There was no way he had another one in
    him.
    "One more, one more," I urged. "C'mon, you can do it."
    There was a pause, and I prepared to try some fresh exhortations. But
    he was only mentally preparing for the effort. He took three quick
    breaths, then dropped the bar to his chest. It rose a few centimeters
    from the impact, then a few more from the northward shove that
    followed, but a second later it stopped and began to move inexorably
    downward.
    iTetsudatte kure? he grunted. Help. But calmly, expecting immediate
    assistance.
    The bar continued downward and settled against his chest. "Oi, tanomu?
    he said again, more sharply this time.
    I pushed downward instead.
    His eyes popped open, searching for mine.
    Between the weight of the bar and plates and the pressure I was
    delivering, he was now struggling with almost two hundred kilos.
    I focused on the bar and his torso, but in my peripheral vision I saw
    his eyes bulging in confusion, then fear. He made no sound. I
    continued to concentrate on the clinical downward pressure.
    With his teeth clenched shut, his chin almost buried in his neck, he
    threw everything he had into moving the bar. In extremis he was
    actually able to get the weight off his chest. I hooked a foot under
    the horizontal supports at the bottom of the bench and used the
    leverage to add additional pressure to the bar, and again it settled
    against his chest.
    I felt a tremor in the weights as his arms began to shake with
    exertion. Again the bar moved slightly north.
    Suddenly I was struck by the reek of feces. His sympathetic nervous
    system, in desperation, was shutting down nonessential bodily
    activities, including sphincter control, and diverting all available
    energy to his muscles.
    The rally lasted only another moment. Then his arms began to shake
    more violently, and I felt the bar moving downward, more deeply into
    his chest. There was a slight hissing as his breath was driven out
    through his nostrils and pursed lips. I felt his eyes on my face but
    kept my attention on his torso and the bar. Still he made no sound.
    Seconds went by, then more. His position didn't change. I waited.