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“Ah, here we are. Two beauties ready to fight it out. May the best bitch win.” Scattered applause rang out as the attendants retreated through the doors and closed them.
“Brianne. We have to do this, okay?” I hadn’t formed a plan for her. The knowledge of what would happen if I lost blinded me too much to think.
My father was doubled over, his face hidden. Sin stood behind him, his eyes on me. He lifted his chin toward Brianne, silently telling me to attack her.
“Bri, we have to. Come on.”
“Do you need the attendants to beat you into it, ladies? Get to it.” Cal’s voice was a harsh bark, as if he were worried he was losing the crowd.
A high pitched whine came from above. Red grabbed Brianne’s mother and shook her. “Fight, bitch, or I kill her right here, right now.”
Brianne raised her face toward her mother, and her eyes widened. “Mommy.”
Red threw her bloodied mother onto a bench, and Brianne lowered her gaze to mine. “I’ll kill you.” She took a step toward me, her knees wobbling and her eyes focused.
“I always love encouragement, Red. Works for me.” Cal laughed. “I can’t help but notice poor Brianne isn’t doing so well. I don’t think this is a fair fight. Do you?”
The crowd booed.
“I know. Let’s make this more interesting. Give Brianne a baton and one of those shocker things. You know what I mean.”
The doors opened, Mr. Tablet hurried over to Brianne. He gave her his black baton and drew a hand-sized device from his belt. She took the weapons but kept her eyes on me. Her face was blank. I could feel her resolve. There was no other way this could end. Either her blood would die, or mine.
“I have to do it.” She pressed the button and an electrical current shot through the tines on the end of the taser.
I backed up, trying to buy time. “Briann—”
“I have to.” She rushed me and swung hard with the baton.
“And we’re off to the races!” Cal cried.
I ducked and threw my shoulder into her stomach. She grunted and fell back, but held the taser out so I couldn’t get close. Getting to her feet, she squared herself and followed me as I backed away. She was thin and weak. Even so, her love for her mother fueled her forward on unsteady legs.
Keeping my hands up, I waited for her swing. When it came, I darted close to her body and punched her in the back. She screamed and fell to her knees, but recovered before I could attack again.
“I won’t let you kill my mother. I won’t.” She swung the baton in front of her, as if she were warming up.
The accusation was a deep wound, a slow bleed. “I’m not killing her. They are.”
“No!” She screamed. “If you win, it’s you. You did it.” Her voice broke as she advanced.
I’d backed halfway around the courtyard when she sprinted at me. The baton was a dark blur as it struck the side of my neck, and I narrowly dodged her extended hand holding the stun gun. I tried to grab her as she shot past, but she was already out of range by the time I’d recovered from the hit.
She came again as a close bolt of lightning blinded me. I tried to grab for the baton as she swung, but it connected with my fingers. I didn’t know I’d screamed until I pulled my hand back, my index and middle fingers bent at unnatural angles, both numb and yet excruciating at the same time. Clutching my injured hand to my chest, I turned and ran, the soggy ground sucking at my boots. There was no escape, just the circle that endlessly led me back to suffering.
I spun, and Brianne collided with me, both of us falling in a tangle. Crawling away, I got to my feet. She was still on all fours, trying to get up, her breaths labored. I kicked her in the side, and she flipped onto her back. It was my chance to end it.
Dropping on top of her, I pressed my forearm against her windpipe and tried to hold her stun-gun-hand with the other. The baton cracked across the back of my head and the world went dark for a moment. Then a burning sensation rushed up my side and I fell over, my entire body sizzling like a steak in a pan.
Brianne let up with the stun gun and beat me with the baton, her blows raining down on my side and my head as I tried to cover myself. She shrieked with each swing, primal fury rolling off her as agony bloomed everywhere the baton struck. I curled into a ball, and the distinct cracking sound and burst of misery as she nailed my ribs made me scream.
