Chapter 21: One Hell Of A Rematch
After following instruction from Roberta to pull over, the maid had managed to pick up a trail off the main road and leading into the rural land near the coast. Revy followed her companion through the underbrush and they eventually found themselves in a small wooded area on the edge of a fishing hamlet. Revy had never been here, but she knew it had been plagued by both flooding and terrorism during the 80s and the residents, content to endure the abuse of both the elements and the extremist groups in the area at the time no longer, uprooted themselves and abandoned their homes.
Revy sat on the branch of a tree watching the houses and huts for any sign of movement while Roberta, leaning against one of the other trees, waited for her comrade to dictate their next move considering she was the only truly combat capable one here. There was no sign of life, but that did not mean some of the New Order would not be lying in wait. The idea of kidnapping Garcia and Rock was to set a trap, after all. It would need to look too easy to rescue them. Revy reached out one hand and Roberta fished the binoculars out of her satchel bag. Revy took it and looked through them, scanning the area for a better idea of whether the hamlet was actually abandoned or not. It seemed empty, but Revy couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
"Anything?" Roberta asked. Revy grunted and continued her surveillance.
"Not a damn thing. Place is dead quiet. Doesn't look like anyone's been here in years."
"I find that concerning," Roberta mused.
"I hear ya. Seems too easy. Gotta be something here, right?"
"There are signs of people having been here. Faint tracks in the dirt, almost gone. This place is not as empty as it looks." Revy wasn't nearly as well attuned to tracking down targets as her Colombian compatriot, but she took her word for it. "And that scent in the air. We should be careful."
"You smell it, too?" Revy asked, still using the binoculars. "Fuckers have been here, alright. Just gotta figure out where they took our boys."
Without warning, she tossed the binoculars at Roberta and hopped down from the branch with a noise that was louder than desired. Her Cutlasses were taken in hand, also, and she made her way to the treeline. Roberta only just managed to grab the binoculars, stuffing them back into the satchel and hanging it from a broken branch while they surveyed the hamlet, but not before fetching her knife and clipping it to the back of her belt. If they had to move on, they could retrieve the bag before doing so.
"Revy!" the maid scolded her. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Relax, Glasses," Revy said lackadaisically. She waved one of her guns from side to side. "That's what I got these things for. I'm the muscle of this little operation. Man, you woulda been screwed if you came out here on your own."
"I'm not even wearing my glasses!" Roberta grumbled, following Revy into the hamlet hurriedly.
"Well, shit, you'll always be Four-Eyes to me!" Revy slighted her. "Or should I say 'Two-Eyes' now?" Had Roberta the strength she was known for in her prime, she would have gladly broken Revy's jaw for her.
"You immature, violent, self-centred brute!" Roberta exclaimed, losing her temper. She continued to follow her consociate into the middle of the hamlet as they sparred with words. "If I didn't need you, I'd-!"
"You'd what?!" Revy snarled, slowing her pace and dividing her attention between the hamlet and the maid. "I'd be surprised if you can still wipe your own ass these days, so shut the fuck up."
"Why do you insist on talking?!"
"You wanna die, bitch?!" Revy roared, finally stopping altogether and turning around to face the Colombian woman. They stared at one another confrontationally for a few seconds until Roberta closed her eye, presumably deciding it was not worth getting into an argument. Her next words, however, implied she was very much in a fighting mood.
"I should have let you do this alone," she said calmly, to begin with. "At least then you wouldn't be in my way and I could rescue the Young Master without you here. Your friend would not survive, but what difference would that make to me? He's a scheming maniac, anyway, one who plays with the lives of others. The world would not shed tears for him."
Revy completely snapped and she went for Roberta, tackling her to the ground and straddling her, using her body weight to keep the Bloodhound pinned down. Then, she threw her Cutlasses aside and started beating her with her fists until her face was bloody. The brutality would have continued, but Roberta managed to grab Revy's ponytail during a flurry of punches. She yanked on it hard, causing the gunslinger to screech in pain and cease her attacks, frantically reaching backwards in an attempt to release herself from Roberta's iron grip.
"Not the hair, not the hair!" she cried, struggling with the intention of getting away, but it was no use. Even now, Roberta had some strength left in her, strength she had been saving to deal with the New Order. But now, she had other things on her mind. With Revy sufficiently distracted, she freed one of her legs and propelled it into her foe's stomach. It was like a jackhammer shooting into concrete and Lagoon Company's violent gunwoman tumbled in the other direction, clutching her stomach and fighting the urge to vomit.
"You fucking sex-starved whore!" Revy whined, still in the foetal position on the ground. Meanwhile, Roberta came to her feet awkwardly and shambled over to her enemy. When she reached her, she landed a kick into her back with her prosthetic leg. That must have hurt. Revy cried in pain and scrambled across the dirt to avoid a second kick, standing up and raising her fists a she prepared for the fight to continue. Roberta was unsure how she would fare in a simple one-on-one these days, but she had no qualms about trying. When Revy approached and went for a punch, Roberta ducked and retaliated with a swing that caught the gunwoman in the jaw. A second punch, but Revy was too quick and raised her arm to block it. Her other arm came in with a swing of its own, almost knocking Roberta off-balance but not quite. Roberta then lifted her foot high into the air at a sideways angle, balancing on the prosthetic as best she could. Then, she brought her leg down in a curved motion, knocking the feet from under Revy. She fell on her rear end in the dirt, but did not have enough time to react. Roberta's knee crunched into her face and she fell flat on her back with blood running from her nostrils.
Revy held her face with both hands as if that would alleviate some of the incredible pain. As Roberta approached to continue the fighting, Revy knew she had to act. She sat forward quickly and reached for Roberta's leg, placing one hand on the wooden calf beneath her trousers and sending a calculated slap into the side. The force and angle of the motion was enough to dislodge the leg from its brace and Roberta suddenly started to lose her balance. She stretched out her right arm and leaned back slightly, remaining upright by only the slightest of chances. Revy stood up and held the prosthetic leg proudly in one hand, tossing it into the air and catching it every few seconds. A shit-eating grin appeared on her face and she watched her opponent struggle against gravity with elation. After almost a minute, she stopped tossing the wooden leg and gripped it firmly by the ankle with two hands, instead. Then, she reached it back over her shoulder like a baseball bat.
"When I'm through with you, I'm gonna leave you on Wolfy's doorstep," Revy told her. "Then, he can fuck you like a dog, just the way you like it!" The prosthetic plummeted into the side of Roberta's face and she collapsed to the ground. It would be surprising if she was still even conscious. Revy threw the leg aside and went to the maid, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her up until their faces were level. Roberta, awake but groggy after that ruthless attack, held onto Revy's arm to keep herself upright. But the gunslinger was not done with her. Both of her hands started tightening around the Bloodhound's neck and her air circulation was cut off. It became more difficult to breath and in her weakened and beaten state there was nought she could do to stop this. She was forced to let it happen, despite that fire that still burned inside her. It raged on, unwieldy, even in the face of death. Her arm began to go limp and her vision was blurry, but an image came into her head as clear as day, an image of Garcia. She could not let herself die at the hands of one of the walking dead when the Young Master was in danger. He needed her, and she certainly needed him. After all, he was the only thing keeping that fire burning within her. Had he not been in her life, she would have been dead long ago, she feared.
All of a sudden, the constriction around her throat relented and she fell to the ground. It took a while, but her vision returned to normal and her energy came back at a snail's pace. She sat on the ground panting as the woman who had almost killed her stood over her, hands on hips. Roberta massaged her neck and regulated her breathing.
"Why?" she asked, her voice hoarse and cracked. "Why spare me?"
"Cause we still got work to do," Revy told her. "And I sure as shit don't fancy wandering around out here without a guide. Besides, I hate your fucking guts…but I ain't got no reason to want you dead. Feels like a cruel twist of irony to get taken out by little old me after the shit you've done. I ain't no 'Bloodhound of Florencia', after all." Roberta coughed to better clear her throat, but remained on the ground. She could not come to her feet without her leg. "Jesus, get up," Revy told her, extending a helping hand. "You look fucking miserable down there." Roberta tried to warn Revy after spotting the figure behind the building, but it was too late and the shots had been fired. Revy only just rolled out of the way in time to avoid being hit. She snatched up her Cutlasses and took cover behind the front wall of the hut. Once she was safe, she began laying down suppressing fire so that Roberta would not fall victim to their shots. "Get back to the treeline!" she ordered. "I'll keep these pissants occupied!"
Roberta would have to crawl, but crawl she did as quickly as possible. There was no time to reattach her leg as the members of the New Order gave no quarter, but Revy had been a formidable gunwoman back when she and Roberta had first met and her skills had come a long way since then. There were some who would say she had even surpassed Mister Chang in gunmanship, something she had long aspired to do. She was earning that praise today, shooting at the right moment and aiming her shots precisely. The New Order soldiers were struggling to find a moment to shoot at Roberta, despite the fact that she was completely in the open. Two-Hands certainly lived up to her name.
Roberta finally reached the trees and dragged herself into an upright position, resting her weight against the tree the satchel hung from. She reached inside and produced one of the smoke grenades. With only one hand, she was forced to remove the pin with her teeth before hurling the grenade at the New Order. When they were distracted, Revy barrelled it into the smoke and leaped from it with her Cutlasses forward. The shots rang out loudly across the surrounding area. Once the smoke had finally cleared after several minutes of silence, Revy was the only one still standing with the bodies of the others scattered around her covered in blood. Even though they had gotten the jump on the two women, they didn't stand a chance, especially against the combined efforts of the Bloodhound and Two-Hands.
"Not bad," Revy praised her temporary sister-in-arms. "You still got it, after all."
"I thought that was obvious, considering our misdemeanour several moments ago." She was referring to the beating she had given Revy before the gunslinger gained the upper hand.
"Well, look who's grown a sense of humour all of a sudden. You need a hand? Or, er, a leg?" Reluctant though she was to humour the vulgar, loudmouthed Revy, Roberta nodded. There was no time to waste, now. If the New Order managed to take them by surprise, there was no telling what else they had up their sleeve. Rock and Garcia could be in grave danger. Revy grabbed the prosthetic and went to the maid, kneeling and rolling up the leg of her trousers to examine the brace as if trying to discover how to reattach it.
"Please, be careful," Roberta implored the woman.
"I ain't retarded, Roberta. Just gotta figure out how to get this thing in so it doesn't fall out. Let me just…" She lined up the leg with the brace and angled it so that it would slip in without resistance. Then, she forced it into a straighter position and pushed upwards so that it was secured. She released it, standing up and waiting for the maid's approval or disapproval. Roberta moved it from side to side and walked forward a few steps, deducing that it was in properly.
"A job well done," she praised her comrade.
"Fucking A!" Revy concurred. "Now, let's kill some more of these fucking dickweeds and get our boys home safe before it's too late."