Street Rat Rules

by word puzzler

Ezra knows how to survive. He has his rules, his experience, his own way of getting things done, and it works. . .most of the time. These are his rules, his survival guide, and how he learned them. (It's listed as complete, but I'm open to adding suggestions if anyone has any. All future updates will be placed before the last two chapters, ending won't change.)

15. Dodge, Don't Block

Rule# 16 "Dodge, don't block."

---

He was on all fours, panting, sweat dripping down his face. His entire body ached and shook.

There was a frustrated sigh and something landed on the ground next to him.

"It's your fault you know," came the unforgiving reminder. "If you hadn't almost gotten shot and scared the parc out of me, we wouldn't be doing this."

This being what she had dubbed 'survival training.'

'More like a beating,' he thought bitterly, and let himself fall to the ground. His nose wrinkled at the smell of dirt and sweat and he rolled over, scrunching his eyes shut against the bright sun.

"Let me take a look at them," she said gently.

He let her inspect the damage.

"Tch! Your arms look terrible." She held one up for him to see, and he cracked open an eye. Yep, he could already see the bruises forming. "You need to stop blocking. In fact, new rule: dodge don't block, not unless you have to. It's far more important, and much less painful, to not get hit than to try and block a hit. Got it?"

She let his arm fall and he winced as it hit the ground, too tired to have held it up. She wasn't tired, not that he could see anyway, but then again all she'd done was stand in one place and throw rocks. He'd been the one running around trying not to get hit. He glared at the sky.

"Stop pouting," she said harshly. "You could always being learning it the way I did: by having people swing their fists at you, and you either dodge or walk away with a broken bone."

It was like being dropped into a bucket of ice. She always said she learned things the hard way. Suddenly a few pebbles didn't seem so bad.

"Don't." She stared at him; his face was twisted in a sad little grimace. "I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me, I told you so you'd take this seriously."

"Got it," he whispered.

She smiled and lay down next to him. "If ya want you can throw rocks at me later, or I'd even let you use your sling shot."

"Yeah, 'cause I could hit you," he scoffed.

"Probably not," she chuckled. "Good target practice though."

They lay there, soaking up the sunlight and enjoying the rare few times when everything was peaceful.