KKR
Stupid stupid stupid stupid! Why the hell did I go and pick a fight with Roger? Now IÕm going to be late meeting up with Monique! What was I thinking?!
The black-haired boy thinking these thoughts was currently racing through the ancient cobbled streets and alleys in downtown Paris, a heavy black schoolbag thumping on his back as he went. He had only lived there for two years, but he could navigate the tiny streets only the locals knew about as easily as any of the kids who had lived here all their lives. That was mainly because of how often he got into situations like this.
Hearing the pounding feet of his pursuers growing louder, his mouth went into a grim line and he sped up. I canÕt outrun them, he thought reasonably. But I canÕt let them catch up either. ThereÕs four of them, and thereÕs only one of me. I need to find a way to separate them and take them one at a time. A plan entered his thoughts, and he started to run even faster. He needed to stop for a minute or two, and in order to do that, he needed to get further ahead. He began navigating his way through the seemingly identical little streets for the one he knew would suit his purposes well.
Reaching the abandoned back alley he wasted no time in reaching into his bag and pulling out four little recording devices. They were cheap, and only held a recording for twenty seconds, but they should do the job. He set them all in a row on the ground and pulled out his little remote keypad he had programmed for just about every piece of electronic equipment he owned. Throwing his bag back on his back he hit the button that would start the little things recording and ran down the length of the alley. His footsteps echoed loudly and his backpack clinked as he went.
After counting out twenty-four seconds, he raced back and snatched up the devices, headed to where the second part of his plan would take place. It was an intersection of four alleys that spiraled out from a circular area. He listened for his followers for a moment, trying to estimate how long it would be before they caught up. Deciding he had just enough time, he hid one of his toys at the entrance of the three alleys his enemies would be able to choose from. Then he ran up one of them and put another a little down a turnoff from the street he had just come up. Then he ran back and raced down another of the passages, hiding in a niche not too far along from where the mouth of the alley.
He knew Roger well enough to know how he would react to hearing his prey running down all the streets at once. He was used to KaiyelÕs tricks. He would wait in the court and send his henchmen to check out the trails. They were to come back to him when he let out that earsplitting whistle of his, or if they manage to find and snag Kaiyel.
He heard them come into the court and hit the play on three the machines at the entrances to the alleys. After an exclamation of annoyance, the men were deployed. Kaiyel rolled his eyes as he set down his pack and took his num-chucks out. The guy was so predictable.
Right when the boy was level with him Kaiyel stepped out of his hiding place and smacked his assailant in the stomach with his weapon. He clutched his stomach, gasping for breath, and Kaiyel tapped his shins with the num-chucks, just hard enough to make him fall to his knees, not shatter the bone. He wouldnÕt be able to whisper, much less yell a warning to his friends, for at least five minutes. He hit the detonator for the second recording device, probably putting the second crony on a wild goose chase for an imaginary Kaiyel.
With that he waltzed into the court and faced Roger. When the blonde raised thumb and forefinger to his lips so he could whistle for his friends, Kaiyel said, ÒOh, I get it, youÕre afraid youÕll lose a fight against me unless you have three of your cronies holding me down.Ó
That stopped him in his tracks. ÒIÕm not afraid of a bastard like you,Ó he sneered, his hand going back down to his side.
ÒThen prove it,Ó challenged Kaiyel, not letting his relief in how well his comment had worked show.
ÒNot fair; youÕve got a weapon.Ó
Kaiyel tossed it to the side and found Roger charging him the next instant. He waited until Roger was almost on top of him, then slipped on purpose, sliding fast between his legs. He kicked one leg up straight up and dug the toe of his sneaker into the small of RogerÕs back. The boy let out a cry of pain, and the last of his henchman came running back into the court.
Standing up, Kaiyel dusted himself off with his hands before turning back and kicking Roger viciously in the ribs. The boy let out another cry of pain and Kaiyel left him to retrieve his num-chucks. Once he had them he faced the last boy, ignoring the sound of a nearing motorcycle for the moment, and went into a fighting stance. The guyÕs eyes went wide and he bolted back in the direction he had come from.
Kaiyel grinned cockily and started doing a few tricks with his num-chucks as a kind of victory dance before a cloth bag that had been filled with some sort of sleeping drug was thrown over his head, his weapon was snatched away. As he was thrown on the back of a motorcycle and his conscious state of mind began to ebb away, it occurred to him that maybe it wasnÕt him RogerÕs crony had run from after all.
***
Kiana stood in a well cared for garden, in a bare dirt plot, hoeing it. She wore a comfortable but clinging shirt of some soft material, a pair of jeans, and a pair of fashionable, brown hiking boots. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, as it usually was, and a wide-brimmed leather hat capped her head. She wouldÕve done without the hat, but Aunt Clara had insisted on it before letting her go out, saying that she would lose all of the color in her hair. In truth, Kiana thought that white hair would be fun, for a while anyway. But Aunt Clara, being as old-fashioned as she was, shoved the thing on her head, and Kiki, as she was called, had found it surprisingly comfortable. And that was the sole reason she had yet to remove it.
She heard the approaching men long before she acknowledged them. She wasnÕt about to be disturbed. This was important to her; no one was going to wreck it. Wrecking this would ruin her day, and Kiki on a bad day was not fun. But it seemed that none of these men had ever met a nature-loving prep who went from cutie to bitch in one second flat when her day was ruined ever so slightly, because they kept right on coming.
She heard the footsteps stop right behind where she stood. After a moment, a womanÕs voice said, ÒKiana Heggel, I ask if you would please allow us to escort you to a meeting with my superiors. They wish to speak with you.Ó
ÒIÕm busy,Ó replied Kiki shortly, not pausing in her work. ÒAnd I donÕt know you people. Go away.Ó She looked over her shoulder. There were two nondescript men there, and one woman with black hair and sea green eyes. ÒYouÕre wasting my time. DonÕt come back.Ó She turned back to the plot of ground she was hoeing and went right back to work.
ÒIÕm afraid I canÕt take no for an answer, Miss Heggel,Ó announced the woman calmly. ÒEither come with us willingly, or weÕll take you. Either way is fine with me, but I thought IÕd offer you the more comfortable method first.Ó
ÒNot interested in going anywhere right now, thank-you,Ó replied Kiki, her eyes only for her work.
The woman nodded sharply. ÒSo be it,Ó she answered calmly. ÒMaxis; take her.Ó
Kiana heard the rustle of cloth as ÒMaxisÓ moved to do as his leader had said, but waited. When she heard several footfalls she took her hoe out of the ground and pushed the top of the handle towards the ground in a single swift movement. The head of the tool flew up behind her and dug into the bottom of his chin. He yelped and Kiana felt blood spatter on the back of her neck.
She changed her grip and reached back and smacked the hoe right below the base of where the metal part of it began. The head dislodged from the manÕs face fell to the ground. The foot of it went back up and lodged itself in his crotch. He gasped, red in the face and dripping blood. Kiki stepped to her left and slammed the head of the hoe back into his face with all her strength. He got a dazed look on his face and fell to the ground, bleeding even more now. When his latest wound healed, he would have a scar between and in his eyebrows, leaving people with the vague impression of a unibrow.
She charged the second man, slamming the but of the hoe into his stomach and, since the woman was in such close proximity to him, wheeled the opposite end around to land in her gut as well. They really hadnÕt moved much, apparently shocked by her reaction. She switched her hold on her weapon again and held it to face, then straight out in front of her like a sword. Then she whapped first the woman as hard as she could, then the second man. They both fell to the ground, unconscious and probably with concussions.
Kiki huffed a little in annoyance and walked back to the plot of ground she had been working. The first man, Maxis, was still a little closer than she wouldÕve liked, so she used her hoe as a lever to move him a few more feet away. Taking off her hat, she wiped her brow and turned back to her little garden. She tossed her hat over her shoulder, and went right back to work without a second glance at her attempted kidnappers.
***
In a realm of nearly complete white, all was still but for one thing. Riding on a snowboard down one of the grand mountainÕs magnificent slopes was a single rider, all dressed in black.
It was obvious from a first glance that it was a woman, probably some kind of punk or other. Her hair was layered, the longest parts coming a little past her chin, but it was styled and fluffed out, managing to emphasize the bright neon purple, pink, green, and blue highlights. She wore bug-eyed goggles, but otherwise had no headgear of any kind. Her suit was all black and baggy, obviously comfortable. She had a black backpack as well. Her board wasnÕt too unusual outside the fact that it had sweet bindings that she could slip into and out of.
For now though she was racing full speed down a straightaway and into a small patch of forest, her hands, thinly clad in black gloves, spread out for an extra bit of balance. She swerved to avoid the trees that would mean certain death, trying not to lose too much speed. Then she smiled as she finally saw her objective racing towards her.
She flew out into the open, fresh powder trailing behind her, over a one hundred twenty-five foot cliff. Totally unperturbed by the death drop, she began shouting the tricks she was doing in the freefall.
ÒStiffy, nosebone, one foot, shifty, reverse tweak method!Ó Her voice was hoarse from the cold, but had a feminine, husky sound to it. In other conditions it was probably quite nice. ÒReverse invert, arch invert, nose dive, stalefish!Ó
In the last thirty feet she pulled a killer move, one of her favorites; loser air. The trick had been branded by a 21st century rider and required the boarder to pull the board back like they would in a squirrel, back inverted with one hand on the board, with the right hand across the center of the forehead in the loser sign.
She continued to spiral down like that until she was at ten feet, and suddenly seemed to notice how close the ground was. ÒOh shit,Ó she muttered, and yanked a cord on her backpack, turning on the jetpack in her backpack, which managed to slow her descent to something that would kill her.
She landed hard and on her back foot, now regular, her upper back slammed onto the back of her board. Cackling with delight she cheered for a moment or two, continuing to go down the mountain at full speed, her bodyÕs contorted position not seeming to bother her in the slightest. After a few second though she stood up and bunny hopped so her right foot was in front, goofy style, which was her usual. She went down a short straightaway, swerving back and forth a little to get the feel of the powder fresh snow, until she reached a trick course.
She flew off a six-foot launch, pulling a method as she murged in the air over to the mammoth rail, pulling a backside board slide. After a smooth slide, she 360¡ off and raced down the hill. Sliding over the top of a foot rail head on, she launched a twelve foot, 720¡ stiffy switch nose grab. Smooth ride land.
She went up a side quarter pipe, lifting at the side and launching eight feet, pulling a nosebone, smoothly launched.
Grinning wildly at her performance, the rider launched a five foot jump with a fifteen foot long rail attached. She pulled a one foot quickly, before the rail and 720¡ grinded on. Having landed it safely, she sped down the remaining slope.
Soon enough she came to a flat area, the end of todayÕs ride. With a whoop of joy she shoved her goggles up onto her forehead and snapped her feet out of her board, then kickstanded it up with the rubbery toe of her boot. She caught it board with one arm and took in a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, her obsidian eyes closed. She cackled a little in delight of how well she had done, her heart thumping and adrenaline pumping.
But, however nice and refreshing it was, she didnÕt feel like standing there all day. So she reached into a pocket of her pants and pulled out a cell phone. She dialed the desired number and held it to her ear, hissing in impatience. When someone answered she told them, briskly, ÒCome pick me up.Ó
ÒYes, Miss Jemis,Ó replied the man on the phone. ÒOn my way.Ó
A minute or so later a sleek, black helicopter arrived and landed not too far from the girl. Without hesitation she walked over and jumped in, buckled herself in, and put on the headphones.
ÒRhia, I have some bad news.Ó
The rider, Rhia, looked in the direction of the man who had spoken over the intercom in the headphones. It was one of her fatherÕs closer assistants, riding passenger in the helicopterÕs front. ÒWhatcha mean?Ó she asked curiously by the same methodology he had used.
ÒYour grandfatherÕs been assassinated,Ó he announced solemnly.
Rhia frowned. ÒWhich one?Ó
ÒYour fatherÕs father, Dr. James Jemis.Ó
She blinked a little in shock and surprise, not quite believing that someone had finally managed to knock off the old bugger. Then she scowled. He mightÕve been a tough old tightass, but he was still her grandpa J.
Damn Heero, wherever the hell he went, she thought moodily. Gramps was his instructor; he was supposed to have been watching him!
Well, thatÕs it for this chapter, all the new pilots! KKR = Kaiyel, Kiana, and Rhia! Better watch out for those nature loving preps though! TheyÕre meaner than they look! Whelp, next chapterÕs named Meeting, where the g-boys go and meet these people! Well, except Kaiyel. TheyÕre gonna have to rescue him after they get the new people togetherÉ
DonÕt forget to review! And please, ideas! I really need them!