Southern Chicago
Foxtail fell over backwards, after my kick and I quickly sprang back to my feet.
Her comment had caught me out and it had brought back a flood of unwelcome memories...
...+...
October 2013
It had only been a month since I had been kidnapped.
My memories of what had occurred were fuzzy – probably something to do with the drugs that they forced me to take. I hated being apart from my family and somehow I had a feeling that I was never going to see them again. I was seven-years-old and I was very scared – I was not alone; I was surrounded by dozens of other kids in a similar predicament. Some of the kids were my age, some older and a few of the bigger kids were at least twelve. We were kept very busy during the day which never gave me the time to think about my family or my new situation, which I suppose was part of the idea. At night, though, I never felt more alone – the other girls were nasty and they seemed to enjoy making me cry and scream at them.
I had nobody and none of the adult instructors cared much about what was going on – I was just told to 'toughen up' and to 'stop bitching, bitch' among other, not so nice, comments. There was one particular girl, she was about eleven or twelve and she seemed to really enjoy tormenting me, until one morning when I just snapped.
...+...
March 2014
It was soon after I had turned eight; I had been at the facility for about seven months. The continued torment over the past six months or so had pushed me to a state where I was not going to take any more and that bitch was going to pay for everything that she had done to me. She had humiliated me, she had bullied me and she had tormented me just that one time too many...
That morning I had woken up and I had heard her voice – she had been talking about me, as usual... Some other girls were laughing at her comments and looking over at me as I climbed out of bed. A little while later, we were in the showers, as usual. The showers were arranged in groups of six in a rectangular cubicle with two showers on each wall and a large opening at the other. There were four such cubicles that backed onto each other in the centre of the bathroom. Around the outer walls were arranged toilet stalls and sinks.
Each morning was busy as thirty or forty girls used the toilets, washed and showered before going for breakfast. It was a fairly tight schedule and woe betide anybody who was late to classes! I had only ever been late just the once – never, ever, again...
...+...
As I pulled off the t-shirt and shorts which I slept in and hung up my towel for my shower, I heard a voice calling out to me.
"Hey, Walker! Ready for another psyche session?"
I glared at the grinning twelve-year-old girl as she stood under the running shower. I headed into the cubicle and found my own shower – I had reluctantly got used to being naked in front of others, months before.
"Leave me alone, Newton..."
"Or fucking what, you scrawny little British twat?"
I snapped and the next thing I knew; there was blood swirling in the water towards the drain in the centre of the tiled cubicle floor as I pulled back my arm to smash my fist into her face again. I must have just launched myself at the other girl, but I never got the chance for another strike as the bitch drove her own fist into my left side. I fell down to the tiles in agony. As I pushed my wet hair out of my eyes, I stared up at the other girl, ignoring the fact that we were both very naked and I rose to my feet – a little shakily, but I managed it. There was surprise on many of the faces around me; I was the 'snivelling brat' who everybody expected to fail miserably.
There was a lot of shock on Newton's face too as I got back to my feet. She had expected me to stay down to avoid another beating, but no – I had taken my last beating from her...
...+...
I took advantage of her surprise and drove my right hand into her kidney and my left into her chest – I heard a rib snap and the other girl screamed in pain. I may have been 'scrawny', but I was building up muscle and I was eating correctly, as an instructor had advised me. I was much stronger than I had been – much stronger and Newton seemed to have overlooked that little fact.
The girl was even more shocked, but her training soon kicked in and she reacted, kicking me away from her and I fell back against some other girls who cushioned my fall. They pushed me back to my feet, eager to let the fight play out. Needless to say, none of the girls in that place were even remotely normal – they all lusted for blood and fighting was just a normal part of our lives.
We were now surrounded by girls, watching the fighting as if watching a pair of naked girls fighting was perfectly normal. I landed a nice punch on Newton's jaw and more blood appeared to join the rest. The sight and smell of the blood seemed to energise me and I kept hitting and hitting, ignoring the punches and kicks that were returned to my own body. I was focussed on my target – as I had been taught. As a way to bury my loneliness and the constant longing for my family, I had got stuck into my new studies.
I had never thought that I would actually be able to use any of the skills that they were teaching me – but there I was, beating the crap out of a girl four years older than myself.
...+...
The instructors had taught us to fight in any way that would win – so I took that to heart as I punched the girl in her breasts and in her abdomen; I knew the bitch would be sore as she was on her period. Advantage, advantage, advantage – look for any advantage, the instructor had drilled into us. I had no similar targets for her, plus I was a lot shorter and I had learnt to dodge much earlier than I had learnt to fight back.
I was going to win – or I was going to die trying...
There was a fight going on – it was that British slut, Walker, and another girl, Newton.
I was very annoyed to find that the fight was over by the time I reached the bathroom and fought my way through the mass of other girls baying at the fight. I reached the entrance to the shower cubicle just in time to see the end result.
Through the swirling, dissipating steam, I could make out two forms on the far side of the cubicle and copious amounts of blood swirling across the tiles and into the drain. One form was a prone girl and it was obvious that she was never going to move again – the side of her head was caved in... Above the naked dead girl, stood another girl.
...+...
The eight-year-old girl was naked and covered in blood, her bare chest was heaving with the exertion and her face was contorted with rage, tears spilling down her cheeks. She stood with her hands on what passed for her hips and she glared at us all. I saw no emotion in the grey-blue eyes where fear usually resided – instead, I saw the familiar gaze of a killer; it was the young girl's first kill.
"Who's fucking next?" She growled angrily.
The crowd rapidly diminished as three instructors appeared and gaped at the scene they found before them. So, the British twat had sharp teeth and she obviously knew how to use them! I actually gained a little respect for the girl – just a little... Walker was lucky that the facility we were in actually rewarded that kind of behaviour... In any other school in the world, you kill another pupil and you're history – here, you kill another pupil in a fit of rage and they'll fucking promote you!
...+...
One of the key targets for any kid at the facility was to gain their identity; their codename – it was a rite of passage. I had gained mine: 'Foxtail' when I was ten and I had successfully completed my Phase 2 training. That little bitch, she had barely begun her Phase 2 training and she had gained hers: 'Psyche', they called her. That was the reward for her killing that girl, four years her senior.
Not surprisingly, Psyche was left alone after that little episode. Nobody liked her – that was life – but she had earned some respect, and to be honest, nobody wanted to die at her hands, either!
...+...
January 2016
As I sprang back to my feet, I got the distinct impression that my throw-away comment had confused the girl – good; her loss!
The park was dark, apart from a few dim lights scattered around the paths. We were also very much alone as we began to fight.
I was quite a bit out of my league, so I would have to fight dirty to compete with Foxtail's size and strength advantage – not to mention her increased skill level. Again, that voice was there and it was telling me that I should not be fighting Foxtail; I was being stupid... I drew my Sais and noticed that Foxtail had some teeth of her own!
Her 'teeth' were about sixteen or so inches in length with a blade length of just under 12-inches. The matching pair of butterfly swords glinted in the light of the nearest street lamp. The blades were highly polished and they possessed a wicked curved Turkish/Kukri clip-point to them. Both blades were drawn from beneath the back of her jacket and I could see her eyes sparkling as she brought the twin blades up before her.
We circled each other looking for an opportunity to strike. I noticed that we were both moving away from our motorcycles – mine appeared intact, so that was not a major issue, but I really needed to try and escape. Everything that the CIA had taught me and everything that Mindy had quite literally hammered into me on sword fights flew through my mind.
Foxtail attacked and I fended off the first blade with my left Sai as the other blade came around towards my right side. I raised my arm, missed with the Sai and felt the blade strike my armour – it hurt, but it did not penetrate. I heard a brief cry of disgust from Foxtail; presumably, because I wasn't cut in half!
I soon found out that Foxtail was wearing her own body armour when I managed to strike her in the side with the point of a Sai, which obviously ruled out a quick stab to the chest! I was certain that Foxtail was going to aim for my head and neck; well, I was going to do the same...
"That all you got, Foxy girl?" I jeered.
Safehouse F
"What is she doing at the park?" Hal demanded as she looked at me.
"Psyche – check in!" I called.
There was no response...
"Fuck it! Hal, bring up VOX for Psyche..."
I could hear the distinctive sound of metal on metal clashing – what the hell was Psyche involved with? Then I heard her voice.
"That all you got, Foxy girl?"
..._...
I was stunned – Psyche was fighting Foxtail!
Ignoring protocol, I reached over Hal's shoulder and hit the panic symbol by Psyche's name on the touch screen that sat before Hal. Immediately, an alarm went off in the Safehouse and in the visors of Shadow and Jackal, a warning symbol appeared with Psyche's name and exact location including directions.
I just hoped that we would be in time.
Southern Chicago
I punched Foxtail hard in the face and then again in the chest.
"Psyche – help is on the way!" I heard Hit Girl say over the comms.
They knew what was happening and I also knew that I was probably in shit...
"This is Shadow – I'm closing on Psyche's position; twenty seconds on South Sacramento Drive..."
"Break... Jackal is thirty seconds out on West Ogden..."
Foxtail was down on one knee, her butterfly swords held tightly in her fists, she was only down for a moment as she glared directly at me.
"You're braver than I thought, young one..."
Foxtail looked away as the sounds of two motorcycles turning into the park came to both our ears. I took a second to look in the direction of the approaching sounds to see Shadow and Jackal heading towards me – when I turned back, Foxtail was running towards her motorcycle, but I chose not to pursue.
..._...
Shadow skidded to a halt beside me while Jackal headed after Foxtail.
"You okay?" Shadow demanded.
"Stupid question!" I retorted angrily as I jumped on behind Shadow and we followed Jackal.
Several gunshots ripped out from Foxtail as she mounted her motorcycle and I saw Jackal return fire from his FN Five-seveN pistol. Foxtail accelerated away and Jackal kept an eye open while I checked out my motorcycle which I righted with Shadow's assistance.
All seemed in order, so I pulled on my helmet and we headed back to the Safehouse.
Safehouse F
I was so fucking angry and I was very grateful for Dave being only yards away.
Shadow pulled up with Psyche behind her. Jackal pulled up last and all three dismounted, removing their helmets. Shadow must have seen my expression as she turned to Psyche.
"You might be safer keeping the helmet on..." she said without a hint of humour and I saw Psyche flinch.
"Leave us..." I growled as I stood on the mat and everybody fled leaving me, Dave and Psyche alone.
Psyche began to remove her mask.
"Leave it," I said, struggling not to shout and Psyche did so. "Come here!"
Psyche did not move – but she looked directly at me.
"Get your fucking ass here – right now!"
Psyche moved forwards hesitantly.
"You fucked up, tonight – you broke my rules and you put yourself at fucking risk..."
As soon as Psyche was in arms reach, I grabbed hold of her armour and flung her through the air. The young vigilante screamed as she hit the mat, coming instantly back to her feet.
"I forgot alright, I forgot to check in..."
"A mistake that could have got you killed..."
"It won't happen again..."
"Damn right it won't!"
I had never seen Mindy that angry before and a recent comment of Dave's crept into my mind: "The only times that I have seen Mindy beside herself with anger has been when someone she really cares about has been hurt or put at risk."
"Why did you fight Foxtail?"
"I didn't realise it was her until we were already fighting..."
That was a very lame excuse and I could tell by Mindy's expression that she had come to the same conclusion.
"Brings us back to earlier – if you had checked in the moment you saw her..."
"I said, I was sorry..."
"Sorry, won't keep you alive!"
"Go get changed, Steph and we'll go home..." Dave said, resting a hand on my shoulder.