The Ninja Apprentice: The Lost Scrolls of Fudo Shin Read online

  Contents

  The Ninja Apprentice

  Copyright

  About This Series

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Connect with Jon F. Merz

  Other Books by Jon F. Merz

  About Jon F. Merz

  THE NINJA APPRENTICE

  The Lost Scrolls of Fudo Shin

  Book 1

  THE NINJA APPRENTICE

  The Lost Scrolls of Fudo Shin

  Book 1

  © 2012 by Jon F. Merz All rights reserved

  About This Series

  Once upon a time, there was an author who had written many books for adults. Then this author had an idea for a book series for young men that would be filled with all sorts of action, craziness, and martial arts. It would be the series that the author himself wished had been around when he was growing up reading all sorts of other crazy books.

  So he wrote it.

  He called it THE NINJA APPRENTICE and filled it with cool techniques from authentic Ninjutsu, bits of strategy, and the sort of characters that people love to read about. When he was finished, he showed it to his literary agent, who also loved the book. Together, they worked to make it even better than it was, and when it was finally improved, the agent said to the author, “this is the book I always wished had come across my desk when I was acquiring titles for the publishing house I worked at.” Filled with hope and promise, the author sat back and waited as his agent dutifully sent the book around to various editors in New York City. They felt certain that some wise and knowledgable editor would see the enormous potential of the series.

  But alas, such was not the case.

  Instead of marveling at the book, editor after editor rejected it. And they would say things like “boys don’t read” and “this doesn’t have the commercial appeal to gain a wide audience.”

  But boys DO read.

  And this series DOES have massive commercial appeal.

  After all, it’s got ninja in it.

  And what could possibly be cooler than that? Well, how about being able to learn some real ninjutsu as you read? You see, not only is this a fun series of books to read, it’s also a training manual of sorts. The techniques within these pages are real - taken from the Togakure-ryu Ninjutsu family that stretches back almost 1,000 years throughout ancient Japan and adapted into a fictitious ninja tradition known as Matsuda-ryu. The author has studied authentic ninjutsu for over twenty years and what he’s learned has found its way into the book you hold in your hands. Along with the story, you now have the chance to learn some very real stuff here.

  And that’s pretty cool, too.

  After the final editor turned down this book, the author decided to take matters into his own hands. So he put the book out himself.

  Here it is.

  If you enjoy this first book in the series, tell your friends. Tell your family. Tell everyone you talk to online. The “professional” publishing world thought that you wouldn’t be reading this; they thought you wouldn’t be “into it.”

  You’re proving them wrong - and that’s pretty awesome, too.

  The more people who read THE NINJA APPRENTICE, the more we prove that the publishers were wrong. There is an audience for books for boys about ninjas.

  And for girls, too.

  Female ninja were called kunoichi. And they’re in the pages of this book, too.

  So get ready for a real trip into the world of ninjutsu - there’s adventure, violence, and much more within these pages. But like all the best ninja secrets, some are hidden in plain sight.

  And if you blink, you just might miss it.

  Have fun and thanks for proving the publishers wrong!

  -Jon F. Merz

  May 2012

  Acknowledgements

  This story would not be possible without the incredible guidance and teachings of Mark Davis at the Boston Martial Arts Center (http://www.bostonmartialarts.com). I’ve been extraordinarily fortunate to be a student of his dojo for over twenty years and the skills he has shown me have saved my life many times. Some of those same skills are within the adventures that Jimmy will face throughout this series. As such, I owe Mark my most humble and sincere thanks for his teaching, guidance, and friendship. He is the epitome of what it means to be a teacher of the martial arts and is an example to all who would ever call themselves such.

  This series is for my sons,

  Jackson Frederick & William Edward

  I hope you find the path of Budo as rewarding, challenging, and fulfilling as I have.

  Who Dares Wins

  Chapter One

  The voice always spoke to him at night.

  Jimmy Dolan pulled his sweatshirt on – the one with the grease stains from where he’d wiped his hands after eating all those cheese fries last month - and sat on the edge of his bed, pencil in hand poised over the drawing. Across the room, Derek and Jamal shot their way through another level of Alien Juggernaut. The clock on the wall ticked ever closer toward nine o’clock.

  Lights out time.

  Jimmy swallowed and tried to figure out whether he felt scared or more annoyed with the knowledge that he’d probably get another visit tonight. He hadn’t slept much lately, feeling more like he’d been running a marathon in his dreams. He’d been waking up more tired than when he went to bed.

  The sketchpad he held bore the results of his sleep-deprived state. The landscape of the old castle with soaring curved rooftops and the stone foundation hadn’t come out nearly as well as the image he had in his mind. Usually Jimmy could reproduce what he saw in his head with ease, but the insomnia was taking a toll on him.

  Rain pounded the roof overhead - a steady drip-drop-drip-drop rhythm - while the water ran down the glass panes of the windows, sloshing toward the ground below.

  An explosion of sound and light from the television set, jerked Jimmy around. Derek and Jamal high-fived each other and then shut the game off.

  “You beat it?”

  Derek nodded. “Took us almost a week, but we did it.”

  “This one was tough,” said Jamal. “But it was no match for us.”

  Jimmy had to smile. Derek and Jamal were known around the orphanage as the two best video gamers. There seemed to be no game they couldn’t beat within days. The best friends always grabbed the newest games as soon as they came out and then set about demolishi
ng them with relative ease.

  "That reminds me," said Jimmy. "Here." He reached under his sweatshirt and tossed Jamal a plastic shopping bag.

  "What's this?"

  Derek grabbed it away and tore open the bag. The video game case spilled out. Derek picked it up. "Assassin Tango! Sweet!"

  Jamal crowded around him. A smile broke out on his face. "This thing is supposed to have a dozen secret levels." He looked at Jimmy. "Thanks!"

  Derek lowered the game. "You didn't steal this, didja?"

  Jimmy frowned. "I told you guys I stopped doing that stuff. I saved up collecting soda cans."

  "That's a lot of soda cans," said Jamal.

  "My friends are worth it," said Jimmy. "One day, you guys are going to have to write a game no one can beat, though."

  Derek shrugged. “Anyone can do that. Just make the bad guys indestructible. There’s no fun in that. The fun is in making it tough enough that it takes a while to learn how to beat it. Adults write most of these games. No one asks guys like us what we like.”

  “That’s why they’re so easy,” said Jamal. He pointed at the sketchpad. “That your latest masterpiece?”

  Jimmy shrugged and showed them. “I’m not happy with it.”

  Derek whistled. “Cool castle. Looks like something I saw in a book once.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can’t remember what it was, but I think it had something to do with Japan.”

  Jamal frowned. “They had castles in Japan? I thought that was just for knights and stuff in Europe.”

  Jimmy turned the sketchpad back over and stared at the castle he’d drawn. There was something about it that felt familiar. But just what, he couldn’t figure out.

  A buzzer overhead sounded, followed by a deep voice echoing up the stairs. “Nine o’clock. Lights out!”

  “So much for that,” said Jamal.

  “Tomorrow we start in on Assassin Tango,” said Derek. “Thanks, Jimmy.”

  "Yeah, thanks Jimmy." Jamal paused. "You're a great friend, y'know?"

  Jimmy grinned and watched his two roommates crawl under their covers. Within five minutes, they were both snoring. He stared at the drawing a few moments more and then flipped the cover back, laid it on his nightstand and switched off the light.

  Some birthday, he decided. Here it was, the eve of his fourteenth year alive and what did he have to show for it? No family and no real life. Just school and the orphanage.

  And his two friends.

  He didn't mind not getting any presents from them. And it was cool seeing their expressions when he gave them the game.

  Jimmy lay on his cot looking up at the shadows that crept across the ceiling, twisting when the lightning flashed. With each loud boom of thunder, it felt like the orphanage might crumble to the ground. That might not be such a bad thing. After all, Jimmy was confined to the building after school. That’s what he got for breaking out of three other orphanages and just as many foster homes for stealing from local stores.

  He'd gotten pretty good at it, too. But the problem was, he always gave his loot to his friends. And when they were asked where they'd gotten the stuff from, the trail inevitably led back to Jimmy.

  He sighed. If only his parents were still alive, he might have a normal life. Not one like he had now, wondering where he’d come from and what his future held.

  His eyes felt heavy and he let them droop. The steady snoring across the room lulled him to sleep.

  Almost.

  Stay awake. She will be coming soon. You should get ready.

  “Huh?” Jimmy popped his eyes open. But no one stood there. He swallowed, realizing the voice in his head had returned.

  You had better put something on. It is raining out.

  Jimmy frowned. First of all, I already have a sweatshirt on, he thought. And thanks for letting me know about the rain. I would have never noticed with the thunder and all.

  Another flash of lightning lit up the room. Jimmy braced for the thunder, but it never came.

  The front doorbell rang downstairs instead.

  You see?

  He sat up. Who’d be ringing the doorbell at this hour?

  You will find out. Now get ready to go.

  Go?

  Jamal sat up. “Was that the doorbell?”

  Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. Weird, huh? You guys know who it is?”

  “Definitely strange that someone’s out in that storm.” Jamal slumped back down with a sigh. “But I’m willing to bet it’s not for me.”

  Derek continued to snore.

  Jimmy stared at the door leading out into the hallway and downstairs. He could hear muffled voices.

  A twinge of guilt bit at his stomach. It was true he hadn't stolen the video game, but he had nabbed that package of gum from old Mr. Johnson’s down the street today on the way home from school. Had the nearly-blind shopkeeper figured out that Jimmy had left the store with the gum? Were the police downstairs? Would they take him to juvenile detention this time? He'd had quite a few run-ins with the cops, but aside from the gum today, he'd stopped stealing things.

  He chewed his lip. He couldn’t hear what the voices were saying. But he did know that one of the voices sounded like a woman.

  “Fine.” That was Frankenstein, the night shift guardian who watched the kids and kept the place locked down during the night. He was obviously upset. The doorbell had probably interrupted his usual nighttime regimen of cupcakes and coffee. Frankenstein hated being interrupted while he was busy fueling the internal combustion engine in his stomach.

  “This way.”

  Jimmy strained to see from his bed. Shadows started climbing the stairs. Frankenstein’s was easy to pick out, it lumbered up slowly, one stair at a time, straining under the bulk of all those cupcakes.

  But behind it came another shadow. Unlike Frankenstein’s, it seemed to glide easily almost as if it was floating. With its willowy form it definitely could have been made by a woman. Jimmy didn’t see any other shadows.

  He sighed. Cops never traveled alone. If he was going to get pinched for the gum, they would have shown up as a pair.

  He was safe.

  “You sure about this?”

  Frankenstein’s voice again. Jimmy could tell he was surprised about something.

  A clap of thunder echoed across the room. Jimmy jumped and then the next thing he knew, the voices and shadows were practically on top of him. He flipped over and buried himself under the covers.

  The door creaked open wider.

  “That him?” No doubt about it now, that voice was certainly a woman’s; a British- sounding woman to be precise.

  “Keep your voice down,” hushed Frankenstein. “We keep the kids on a very strict schedule for their sleep.”

  “He’s awake,” said the woman. “He hasn’t been sleeping much lately, anyway. Trust me.”

  “How would you know that?”

  Her voice cut through the night. “Get out of bed, Jimmy.”

  Jimmy’s stomach hurt. He turned over, pretending to rub sleep out of his eyes. “Huh?”

  The woman smiled at him. “There’s no need for the games. Just get yourself out of bed. We have to go.” She wore a black turtleneck sweater and long black stretch pants with a dark overcoat. The way she smiled looked forced, though. Like she was trying hard to conceal her impatience. And the way she stood tall and straight reminded Jimmy of a soldier. Still, she had nice brown eyes and blonde hair.

  Now Jimmy sat up. “Go where?”

  Frankenstein sat down on Jimmy’s bed. “Jimmy, this woman is your aunt. Says she’s been trying to find you for years ever since your parents died. Now that she has, she wants to adopt you. She’s got all the right paperwork. The court’s granted her custody of you. It’s time to go, though she probably could have chosen a better time.” He shot her a withering look. “Like maybe during the daytime when people are actually awake.”

  Jimmy frowned. “Since when do the courts work that fast? I’ve never heard of an adop
tion being approved so quickly.” He glanced at Frankenstein. “You sure this is legit?”

  The woman smiled at him some more. “I have some friends in high places. They made sure the papers got filed quickly.”

  Frankenstein leaned close to Jimmy. “You’re a good kid, Jimmy. But it’s time for you to go. Get packed and meet us back downstairs in five minutes.”

  “I’m leaving now?”

  The woman checked her watch. “The sooner the better, actually. Time is rather pressing.”

  “Let’s give him a minute,” said Frankenstein. “We’ll wait downstairs.” They left and Jimmy sat there for a moment.

  “That was weird.”

  Jimmy looked at Derek. “You heard?”

  “Sure. You’re getting out of here.”

  “I guess.”

  Jamal threw off his covers. “Hey, man, that’s good news. Don’t seem so down about it. We all want a home. Now you’ve got one.”

  “I don’t even know that woman.”

  Derek shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll be nice. Probably nicer than any of those foster homes you were in. She’s family, man. That counts for a lot.”

  Jamal grinned. “Pretty good-looking, too.”

  Derek snorted but stopped when Jimmy failed to smile. “I never knew I had relatives in England.”

  “There’s probably a lot of things we all don’t know about ourselves,” said Jamal. “At least you’ve got a chance now to find out some stuff about your life.”

  Jimmy crawled out of bed and slid into his jeans. He figured he could change his shirt in the morning, after they got to wherever it was they were going.

  “You need help packing?” asked Jamal.

  Jimmy grinned. “There’s not much.” He took out the small bag he had and threw some clothes and his sketchpad into it. “See? Done.”

  Derek and Jamal got out of bed. They came closer to Jimmy and gave him a hug. “I guess this is good-bye,” said Jimmy.

  Jamal shook his head. “Don’t say good-bye. Just say, ‘see ya.’ That doesn’t sound so final.”

  “We’re here if you need us, man,” said Derek. “I don’t know if me and Jamal will have someone come by in the middle of the night and take us home. So you know where to find us.”