Elle hadn't died by the hands of Beatrix Kiddo, much to her own dismay. Though she had no real wish to die, she had found herself stranded in the desert, blind and alone. Leave it to the Black Mamba to almost secure her end. Almost being the key word.
She probably wouldn't have survived in her old circles. After all, she was blind and she wasn't one of those tricky Asian masters who can still see without her eyes. Eyeless, the others would circle her like African lions on a wounded gazelle. She hated Africa. To be fair, she hated everything, but at that moment, with a Black Mamba for company, she hated Africa with particular fervor.
Nate had arrived. She could almost spit in disgust. Budd had a terrible sense of humor, and an even worse taste in friends. She could smell the alcohol on him when he arrived, disgusting and fat. But, being the conniving woman that she was, she didn't let that deter her. At that moment, Elle Driver was alone in the world, with the exception of a very drunk and fat redneck. Old Elle would have killed him without a thought. New Elle welcomed him with open arms. And blind eyes.
She had spun a story made up of transparent lies that Nate had drunk like wine. She was Budd's sister, from California, and while she was visiting her brother, a terrible medicine man had come upon the trailer, let loose a rare African snake and gouged out her eyes. Nate blindly accepted all of this, and Elle being the woman that she was, trapped him in her easy web. She needed, at least for a little while, someone to watch her while she recovered. It had been a moment of sheer stupidity that had caused their marriage. And a ridiculous amount of alcohol and the truth behind the statement that love (or at least lust) is blind.
A year after Beatrix Kiddo had left Elle for dead, Arlene Paula Schulz gave birth to a son. Funny how that worked. Tied inexplicably to the fat and drunk Nate, and now raising a son she named Bill, Elle lived the life she would have sneered at years ago. She hated her life, but blind was crippled, and she could not return to her old life as a cripple. She still practiced her swordplay, determined not to fall into Budd's trap if Kiddo decided to confirm her kill, and used Budd's Hanzo sword with practiced skill. She may have hated Pai Mei, but she had still paid attention to the old coots lessons, and she tried to keep up with her kung fu as well. Not as well, perhaps, but she had killed the man before training was complete. She couldnt' be expected to remember everything.
Bill, the new Bill, was everything Elle would have wanted in a son. If she had ever desired offspring. He was apparently strong and handsome, had an interest in martial arts and was rotten scum to anyone not his mother. She would have appreciated him more if his name was followed by Jr. but beggars can't be choosers.
Blind, she taught him all she could remember. Forms, stances, and long forgotten dirty fighting filled her as she raised her son into the world Beatrix Kiddo had fought so hard to keep her daughter away from. Kiddo was a fool. Their was real money, real fame and real fortune in born and bred childhood assasins. Bill called them natural born killers, raised sociopaths and taught to kill before they were taught to love. Elle could deal with the potential emotional baggage later. For eleven years, she raised her son to kill or be killed, to fight the weak and the strong alike, to destroy his opponents with fierce disregard. She had managed all of that well.
Then, she got a call from a friend she thought didn't know of her existence. Elle Driver, to most of the world was dead, replaced by Arlene Paula Shulz, a lonely Texan housewife with a thing for combat. The call was short and simple. A Nikki Bell/Green was trying to locate her. Would she accept the call? Would she put herself back into that world for Vernita's spawn?
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
She picked up the reciever, once white now yellow, and dialed a number she didn't recognize to talk to a girl she had never met. It was time to bring about the death of Beatrix Kiddo.
R & R