Part 20
Kimberly was released the following morning - but only after she'd spoken with local law enforcement and the terrorism task force unit - with a clean bill of health and a stern admonition to take it easy. She'd promised to do no more than was necessary - not exactly a lie - and headed back to the dorm in Ali's company. Ali had been talkative, filling the silence with jabber about their team mates, three of the seven who'd chosen to forego Pan Gloabls in the interest of returning home to salvage relationships or spend time with family due to revelations in the items found in coach's office. Ali herself was heading back to Nebraska to pursue an opportunity their coach had tried to hide from her.
Fortunately, Ali's letter had been dated the week before and she had time to capitalize on it.
Ali helped Kimberly pack the last of her belongings, insisting on carrying a third duffle bag that contained all of the items found belonging to Kimberly in their coach's office. There were more than she'd expected and more than just the one parcel Ali had mentioned. Kimberly had been dismayed and appalled at the extent of the items and regretted not having the time to delve into the treasure trove. Certain parcels were marked as Christmas items from her parents and friends, others were cards or letters. There were a couple of items she'd ordered and never had record of receiving, even though the company had sworn it had been delivered. A twinge of guilt had assailed her for demanding refunds - and getting them - now that she saw the items had indeed been delivered.
But there was little she could do now and she refused to dwell over it as she said her goodbyes to Ali. They'd traded addresses, promising to write, and Kimberly had persuaded Ali to come and visit once things settled down and they'd both assimilated back into their lives. She'd promised to do the same once she'd finished her first semester of college.
The flight to the competition - taking place in St. Louis - was uneventful. A baggage clerk at the airport helped her check her bags and then collect them once she arrived, someone having mentioned to the airline about her injury. Be it Tommy, her mother or Ali, Kimberly was grateful for the assistance. She was tender and two bags would have been hard enough to manage on her own - three was out of the question.
She'd caught a cab from the airport which had taken her and the other three girls who were still competing to the dorm in which the athletes were being housed for the competition. The rooms were small, sleeping two to a room, but adequate and comfortable for their use. Kimberly found the hot tub that afternoon before the opening ceremony, glad there were no practices and no need to do more than walk and wave as they were introduced. Coach had given them an idea for a rather spectacular entrance but she and the other girls had decided to forego it and not make a spectacle of themselves.
Opening ceremonies completed, they'd returned to the dorm and Kimberly had gone immediately to the phone. She hadn't yet had a chance to talk to her mother and took the opportunity to do so.
The conversation hadn't gone well.
Mrs. Hart had been appalled at her insistence on competing and demanded to know why Kimberly had been walking with the other athletes in the opening ceremonies when she'd just risen from her sick bed. The way her mother talked, Kimberly was given the impression that she'd mentally escalated her injury and the circumstances it had been obtained in by a hundred fold. Reassuring her mother was a task that took the remainder of her energy, so much so that - once she hung up - she didn't even try to call the hotel where Tommy had told her he'd be staying. She simply crawled into bed and slept.
The following morning was an exhibition of talent and Kimberly had politely withdrawn her name from that particular section with the explanation of her recent injury and the desire to save her energy for the real competition. The judges had conferred and granted her decision.
It left her morning open to practice, and practice she did, stretching out her muscles and learning their new limits. She pulled herself from the parallel bars after the first hour, knowing she'd never be able to make the extensions necessary for the length of time she'd be there. If she did, the pull on the stitches indicated she'd likely pop something. She also pulled out of all but the floor and beam routines. Disappointed but determined, she'd consoled herself with the remaining events - they were her strong points anyway.
She also knew from other competitions that being unable to complete in all five events would likely knock her out of contention for a medal. While the thought was mildly distressing, she found that the flavor of the competition and the caliber of the athletes was more than enough compensation. She enjoyed herself far more with just the two events to focus on than she would have with all five.
Her practice that first morning was light, but enough that she was sore by lunch time. A careful inspection of the stitches before she rewrapped them after lunch showed strain on several of them but nothing had torn. The pain was minimal thanks to the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. She took it easy that afternoon, wandering around with the other athletes as she waited for her number to be called for qualifying in the beam event. She counted her lucky stars that each event was scored separately and judged as an individual unit with the scores being added up at the end to tally the winners.
To even stand a chance at the finals she'd have to score almost perfectly while not in perfect shape and there were over sixty girls in the gymnastics competition.
It was here, wandering behind the scenes and taking the occasional peak at the stands when Kimberly realized that Tommy had arrived. He was seated in the third row of the bottom tier - and he was just sliding into his seat on the aisle. Beside him sat a face she hadn't expected to see even if her coach had saved the seat. Her heart leapt into her throat and she barely contained the urge to rush the stands.
Her mother.
They'd spoken the night before and Kimberly hadn't even been given a hint her mom would be there. Delighted she couldn't resist a short whoop of excitement and ignored the strange looks of the other gymnasts. She kept her eyes on Tommy and her mother, smiling when she saw how they seemed to get along. Whatever differences they might have shared over Kimberly's breakup with Tommy had all but disappeared and they were here to support her.
Kimberly jumped, spinning in surprise as a hand landed on her shoulder. The floor boss pointed to the floor with his pen. "You're up after Gilligan and Gyllis, Hart."
She smiled her thanks and headed for the warm up mat. She had five minutes, the length of two routines, to stretch out and limber up. She'd taken careful pains to rub moisturizers on her stitches, a little something suggested by the trainer of the facility, in the hope that it would prevent further damage. She was careful through her stretches, checking her limits and testing them to ensure she'd be able to do the moves she needed to include as well as those she wanted to include. She'd already had to change her routine to work with her injury once; she didn't want to have to change it at the last minute.
She calmed her racing heartbeat and found the peaceful center that let her flourish under pressure. Determination swelled in her breast and she firmly ignored the scoring of the judges as they did one and then the other girl before her. Her name was called and she turned, heading out onto the mat as she pulled off her track suit.
Tommy's gaze practically seared through her the moment she stepped beyond the curtains, sending her stomach flopping. She stoically ignored him, taking up her position at the nearest corner and mentally rehearsing how it would play out. There was a moment of utter silence before the lights dimmed and then the music poured from the speakers. Kimberly exploded into action with the first reverberation, having opted for a more demanding floor routine for this competition than she'd ever dared before - even with the injury in her side. Her song of choice was upbeat and demanding, a routine that would have pushed her in excellent physical shape, let alone just checked out of the hospital.
The selection was I'm Better by Ashley Angel and one of her recent favorite songs. Yes, the lyrics were missing, but the lyrical line was included, giving it a difficulty level the other contenders hadn't opted for. It also meant she spent little time stationary, in fact, only her set up for the cross mat routines saw her feet still - and that was only for half a second.
She felt the first twinge a minute into the song, her side pulling as she pushed herself into a forward handspring combination. Ignoring it, and the feeling of wetness that trickled down her side, she continued. The second twinge, harder than the first made her flinch, but it didn't break her concentration. She persevered, launching herself into the final tumbling round of her routine and sticking her landing as the song came to an abrupt end. She managed to hold the pose for the perquisite few seconds as the silence was deafening.
Then, as her arms came down, the dull roar of cheering echoed through the room and blotted out the pounding of the blood in her head. She smiled, lifting her arms to the crowd only to have a bolt of pain lance through her side and bending her double. Tommy's voice penetrated through the din, her name on his lips a cry for help even as she fought against the wave that threatened to overwhelm her senses.
The pain pierced her from one side to the other, like someone had thrust a red hot poker into her wound and twisted and, with the adrenaline from the routine leaving her system, she could feel every stitch like it was a large hole burning in her body and gritted her teeth against the pain. Hands touched her, reaching as one of the trainers reached her side and attempted to help her straighten. Doubled over, her hands clutching her side, she shook her head adamantly at the help; this was her price and one she had willingly agreed to pay for this privilege. The trainer reluctantly stepped back behind the separator, but Kimberly knew she hadn't gone far – they were just waiting for her to collapse.
The roar of the crowd as the judges began posting her scores all but drowned out the announcer and Kimberly knew she'd done well. Very well. Well enough that she might just make it through to the next round; both a blessing and a curse.
A scream echoed through the cheering and suddenly the atmosphere changed as the familiar sound of Cogs penetrated her consciousness. She looked up through eyes glazed with pain as Cogs poured into the arena, dozens of them, and began throwing people this way and that. Panic exploded through the crowd as everyone surged to their feet at once and stampeded for the exits not yet blocked by the mechanical monsters.
Kimberly dropped to her knees, rolling away and back into the dubious protection of the walled area for the contestants. The trainers were already ushering the other girls out through their private entrance but, even as she watched, Cogs ripped through the barriers and went for the girls. Kimberly felt something dangerous explode within her as white rage threatened to blind her completely.
How dare they! How dare the machine empire attack the last refuge of the crane? How dare they interfere with her dream? It would be for the last time. She didn't notice the pink glow that was starting to surround her, nor the way her hair seemed to crackle with electricity as her inner fury fed her powers. She morphed without thinking, completely unaware of even saying the words until the pain in her side disappeared into a dull ache as she was supplemented by the Zeo crystal - and something more.
She rolled away from where she'd been hiding, coming up behind the nearest Cog and slamming it with a crippling open palmed attack as it attempted to pick one of the screaming girls up. The Cog dropped into a pile of malfunctioning parts, destroyed by the vicious attack. Its grip relaxed, freeing the girl it had held captive. The girl's eyes widened when confronted by the Pink Ranger, darting away without so much as a thank you as she raced for the exit.
Kimberly neither noticed, nor cared, moving through the ranks of Cogs with devastating effect, her sword coming to hand without conscious thought. She cut them down as they were distracted, taking off heads or limbs, always careful not to injure whatever hostage they held with them. The pieces flew, striking both Cogs and spectators alike as people ran for their lives. But she wasn't always on time. Two of her team mates fell moments before she reached them, their necks or backs snapped, their vacant expressions staring out at her accusingly.
She carried on, the pain of their deaths not penetrating the cloud of fury that swept her along like the Angel of Death. A blow to her good side had no affect as the Cogs swiped at her desperately in a futile attempt to halt her forward momentum. She felt nothing. Not the impact, nor the throb of bruised flesh underneath as she continued with her purpose.
Other sounds penetrated the fog as she finished with the dozen Cogs who'd crashed through the barriers, searching for the competitors, and a half a dozen people were dead, including two of trainers and one judge. Kimberly turned, started to find the Rangers – Blue, Green and Yellow - battling in the center of the arena. Cogs and their pieces littered the area, showing the devastating effect of the Rangers even without their leader.
Tommy was nowhere to be seen.
Apprehension filled her, cooling her fury and forcing her to think clearly. She had no time to focus on that disturbing thought as Cogs charged the Rangers, attempting a semi-organized attack from all sides. Adam's voice carried over the din of shorting mechanics, calling the Rangers to action and maintaining their defensive and deadly postures. Adam. Not Tommy. Kimberly swept in from behind, her sword glittering in the false light as she thrust through the back of the nearest Cog, her only thought to reach her friends and regroup.
The next Cog let out a horrific noise, like none she'd ever heard as her sword sliced through its exterior casing and into its back. It twitched, drawing the attention of the surrounding Cogs to her entrance, but her anger returned once more and two who turned towards her died on the end of her sword. She jumped, spinning gracefully out of an attack and kicked the Cog into one of its own, knowing them both to the ground. She landed, going down on one knee beside them and thrust downwards. The sword slid through electronics easily as she impaled both to the ground.
An awareness had her ducking and rolling away – leaving her sword in the impaled Cogs – as another attempted to grab her. She kicked out as she regained her feet, her foot connecting solidly with the center of its chest. Momentarily stunned, it stared at her dumbly. Kimberly followed up with a succession of kicks, each one venting a little more of her fury until the helpless Cog finally dropped, shorting out under the powerful attack.
She cartwheeled back into the fray, grabbing her sword at full extension and pulling it free. It came over her head as she used her momentum to bring it down on a Cog nearby.
Archerina, Gasket and Sprocket didn't make an appearance as the Cogs numbers were whittled down and finally decimated completely, Kimberly's sword crossing Adam's as they sliced through the last of them. The Cogs flickered and disappeared, leaving behind a scene of carnage and the sounds of the dying and injured. The stands, which were now pocketed and littered with the pathetic bodies of those who'd been unable to escape the onslaught before the Ranger's arrival, were in ruins. The floor was littered with a mishmash of trash and bodies – human and Cog alike – with the heaviest concentration near the area where Tommy and Kimberly's mother had been seated.
Neither Tommy's distinctive red sweater, nor her mother's outrageous hot pink shawl - a nod to Kimberly's color of choice - were visible. In fact, careful scanning showed no sign of either one nor the individuals to whom they belonged. Fear spiraled through her gut, causing her stomach to clench and making her nauseous. Her mother and Tommy were missing. Tommy hadn't fought with them, hadn't so much as beeped his communicator to let them know he couldn't. It was like he'd vanished into thin air, but the dread seeping into her thoughts whispered of nobility and honor. Wherever Tommy was, he wouldn't have let anything happen to her mother. She finally turned back to the other Rangers and asked the question they were all thinking.
"Where's Tommy?"