Mahira demonstrated forwards and backwards footwork, side to side, and circular movements. "If you have a laser gun in hand, by all means shoot the little bastards," she instructed. "If not, a sharp weapon would be one’s choice." She swung a sword in true gladiator fashion for all the new recruits to learn from.
The practice continued for over an hour. The female warriors sparred and took notice of Mahira as she worked with each student on a one-on-one basis. "Strike with the tip with all you got, drive the metal deep into the creature and hold it for just a moment longer. Make sure, make absolutely sure, they’re truly dead. You can smell their burned out microchips and wires when the suckers are finally gonzo," she added.
Jiu-Jitsu seemed like a good option for some further training, for at least a quick study. Mats were introduced for rolling about and for working on various ground fighting skills. A Q-Jin’s motto was once you have closed the distance, it is inevitable that the fight will end up on the ground. So the knowledge of effective positions for defense and attack while wrestling was a top priority for the entire group. Mahira taught balance and throwing skills. Single and double leg takedowns, guillotine defense, and head lock escapes. "Once down on the ground without a weapon, you must be able to find a superior posture, or at least guard against a stronger, larger opponent," she explained. Mahira showed a few arm locks from the bottom position, and lastly, her coveted triangle choke using her legs wrapped around an opponent’s head. Envy was obviously in pain, so Mahira turned to others to use as helpers while demonstrating all these techniques. Envy was certainly destined to a desk for communication work only.
***
The street gang moved closer now. Chaya slid out her red hilted katana and rested it on her shoulder. Blu shook her head in anticipation of the fun fight and then slid a pair of sharp blades from her sleeves. Golden-tooth was grinning from ear to ear, "You two need to be taught a lesson."
Another gang member, also dressed in rags and head bandana, cried out, "I get first dibs once we knock these girlies out." The men all licked their lips.
"I don’t think so," shouted Blu.
The gang member with an eye patch flipped a barbed bullwhip from side to side as he prepared to attack. The other street urchins brandished crude knives and wooden clubs. There were six of them. An ugly man with a scar across his entire neck was the first to launch an attack. His club swung at Chaya’s head. She backed away from the attack and took a stance ready for combat. From out of nowhere, a blond woman, dressed from head to toe in black leather, dropped from a nearby wall. She was undoubtedly an ally of the Slayers. "I was wondering where you were, Tyne," spoke Chaya. "Either way it’s nice to see you!" The blue-eyed woman nodded and readied her rifle.
Six on three made for better odds for the Mystical Slayers, and when Tyne drew the gun from her jacket, the odds became even better. The press gang now hesitated. After a moment of quiet, one tossed a knife directly at Blu. It flew by, just grazing her thigh. In immediate reply, Tyne fired the rifle and her shots hit four of the six scumbags. The other two pounced on the three women. Golden-tooth’s long knife attempted to jam itself into Chaya’s flesh. She was too quick and pivoted away from its piercing. Her katana narrowly missed in taking off the gang leader's head. He managed to duck just in time and fought on. One-eye swung his bull whip to entangle Tyne’s laser gun. He managed a hit on target, but did not dislodge the gun from her hands.
Chaya, who usually preferred her trusty battle axe, sliced low with the red katana and hit both the bull whip wielder’s calves. He screamed in agony and fell to the ground. He was not dead, but was most definitely rendered immobile. Golden-tooth came at Chaya again and sliced his weapon twice at her chest. She backed away from his first slice, and as the second cut came at her, she crowded in on the vile man. Her sword angled perfectly on her shoulder tip, she sliced into his neck as she passed by his final swipe. Blood squirted in all directions from his carotid artery. He was as good as a goner. He slouched to the ground, hands desperately trying to stem the blood that poured from his neck. But he was tough as hell and still got back to his knees, trying to fight on.
The thug with the throat scar had recovered from his initial horror of being shot and swung his club at Blu. She parried it with her double curved blades and cut him across the wrist. It didn't stop him. He swung his club high and attempted to smash in the sky captain's head. She ducked just enough to avoid the overhand swing and drove a single blade straight up through his lower jaw. He too fell to the ground. "Nice try, freak," she cried out in amusement.
Tyne turned to Golden-tooth. "What were you saying about teaching my friends a lesson? I think it’s you lot that need to be taught a lesson, a final lesson . . . in manners!" With that, she fired away at both Golden-tooth and patchy one-eye before either could ever attack a Mystical Slayer, or anyone else for that matter, ever again.
"I am so glad to see you, Tyne," Chaya announced with a wide grin.
She cleaned off her katana blade and nodded to her fellow companions. "Let’s get all the necessary supplies and make our way back to headquarters. Big things are going down."
The three Q-Jin now made their way down the street. Tyne turned to Blu, "I've heard the latest. You know when this is all over . . . I want to take you on a trip far, far away. How does a deserted isle of green sea water, sand, and coconuts sound?"
Blu smiled, "I would like that very much."
Chapter 9
J- Rail, Y-Wood’s top hunter, was on a mission. He was to follow Lomax, who after leaving the ball, was easily tailed and now being tagged from behind. J-Rail was a tall fellow, dressed in black and brandishing a thick goatee. He was fit and devilish looking in an old-school sort of way. His hair was rather long, dark like the night, and pulled back into a ponytail. His mustache made him seem unkempt, yet he still looked stylish. He was a killer in every sense of the word.
J-Rail was an expert in tracking in the modern era, and if Lomax was heading back to a secret dwelling, he would be putting the entire underground in dire danger. Lomax took as many false and fake routes as he thought fit, but J-Rail was still on his tail. A few bullet trains later, and at the top of one of the highest sky scrapers in Boston, Lomax heard a sudden movement behind him and spun around, coming face to face with the killer. The square-jawed reporter in glasses spoke first.
"I know you have been following me since I left the ball. The thing is, I think you’ve wanted me to know I was being followed." The handsome blond man moved slightly back as his words came to a stop. "I don’t even have any weapons!" claimed Lomax.
J-Rail stepped forward. The hunter smiled just a little, a rarity for him, and tilted his head to the right. "I have not come to harm you, oh friend of the Q-Jin. I have only come to witness your so-called hiding place, which I must see for myself."
The newscaster glanced up at a loose pipe in the construction to his left and looked back to the hunter. "I am not going that way. Sorry." He reached up and yanked the long silver pipe free from the staging and took a stance.
Grinning again, J-Rail cleared his throat, "Ahh, he not only covers the news and leads the underground deviants in revolution . . . now, low and behold, he actually thinks he can fight! Now that's what I call multi-tasking."
Sliding both hands into his long jacket, Y-Wood's top assassin pulled out two razor-sharp, serrated knives which now gleamed in his hands. "If I have to kill you, I will. But not before you take me to the underground metropolis you call home."
The two circled one another and Lomax lashed out with his swirling pipe weapon. His first swing missed by a mile and J-Rail skillfully rotated his blades around his long-nailed fingertips. He could not kill this one yet, but he would, he guaranteed himself that. "If I leave you bleeding on the top of this building, your blood will hardly have chance to dry before I make your lovely Raegan wet with another type of bodily secretion," he chuckled. "Yes, I know all about you and your co-worker." Again Lomax tried to drive home a
pipe hit, but again missed badly, swinging instead to take out J-Rail’s knees. J-Rail shook his head in pity. "I guess those fighting gals never taught you much?" J-Rail looked at the reporter with a stern expression. "You do that again, attack me once more, and I will kill you. The women you hang with are all fools!"
After listening to the threats, Lomax bolted at J-Rail. He ran hard away to his left and accidentally bashed into some of the roof staging. He found himself off balance and spinning about. In fear of being cut, he turned back and took another desperate swing as the black clad hunter walked straight at him. Lomax's blow was destined to miss. Instead, hitting the staging above him again, a cascade of dislodged debris and a metallic, pointed object came crashing down from above. J-Rail deflected Lomax's pipe swing, but he did not spot the jagged steel piece randomly falling from above him. J-Rail looked up at the last moment to see the steel object driving into his eye. He screamed in pain, fell down to his knees, and then collapsed onto his side. Lomax ran away faster than he had ever run in his life and disappeared into the city where no one, this time, could track him home.
J-Rail was squinting, and with eyes watering, he slowly removed the steel shard from his eye. He took some time to compose himself and then used a special tool to carry out a temporary repair on his eye. It healed, but not attractively. He was a bit freaked out by the experience and beyond mad at that stupid reporter. His revenge would be ever so sweet. J-Rail's failure to find the underground hiding zone was a first time failure. It was a harsh first for the highly paid hunter. It will never happen again, he swore to himself. He screamed his disappointment with outstretched arms and reached up to the cloudy sky above.
***
Underground Boston was indeed a city below the Corporation controlled city which lay above. A network of tunnels lead in many directions, but only one hidden amongst them would take Lomax to the real secret underground domain. Of course, the biggest difference with the underground city was the presence of kids, and even a few male kids at that. Like a regular city, it was a busy place, but with an unmistakable air of caution.
The underground city was mostly sprawled about with various buildings of makeshift materials and scraps of steel. It had no real sense of order, but it worked. People got used to it. Old remnants of the past could be spotted as a traveler made their way down the dirty cobblestone streets. Wall graffiti called out to those who sought wisdom or past reading material from centuries long gone. Old trains made for hovels of life, and even shop signs from the days when commerce and free trade had thrived were used to decorate many of the buildings. An American flag the size of an old bus was hanging in the city center, drawing attention from all who walked by. Lomax was now one of them. He spotted a particular sign which always made him wonder what might have been. It was his marker to head down an alleyway. He passed the dented, faded metal sign which was claiming Love Trumps Hate. The reporter simply shook his head.
Lomax continued deeper into the city below. He made his way to the east end, and having reached his destination, he entered through a wooden door. In this vast arena of people within a secret city, he still moved carefully to remain hidden away from prying eyes. For here lived one very special young boy, a male child destined to become more than anyone could dream. He was the son of a Q-Jin, a son not too many people yet knew the truth about.
***
Not too far from New York City, no word of any attacks in Boston had come about . . . yet.
Blu was unlike any other Mystical Slayer. She was a tormented soul with an extreme tolerance to pain. Every time she and her buddy, Wynne, flew out to Jersey, Blu added to her collection of tattoos and piercings at a favorite shop called "Zig Zags". Blu also had no fear. She could fly anything, and she always flew too fast.
Wynne, a blondie with a great smile, nearly threw up every time they made their way to work on a special or very secret project. In many ways, these two were complete opposites. Blu was a wild child, a risk taker. She made it a point to do extreme things such as coloring her hair blue to stick out from the normal crowd, and she was a heavy drinker and smoker. Wynne was more cautious. Both were members of an elite sisterhood of women. The two of them were freedom fighters. Robots called them Q-Jin, humans called them Mystical Slayers, some even called them relics from the past. To them, they were just getting started.
Trained in martial arts, and enhanced by the Starigen 6280 drug, both women were serious ass-kickers. The warehouse they worked in was off the grid just enough to avoid the ever seeking sky patrol drones of the Y-Wood Corporation.
Each time they came to Jersey, their work took priority, but an evening out on the kooky town usually followed. Blu, with her tribal tattoos and wild hair, always drew attention from the mad ones, while Wynne would romance the upper class night goers. What it all added up to was a mixture of who knows what would go down each time they went out. Blu referred to it with a tattoo which read "Free" across her knuckles. They were free in a world of corruption. Free to party if they chose to do so.
The project they were working on, a giant metal lady with a torch in her hand, was a redo of a relic from long ago. The entire piece of art was an ancient symbol of such freedom, and this was their goal through recreating it. She was called "The Statue of Liberty", and holy fuck the Corporation would go absolutely nuts if she was to stand proud once again.
The metal was purchased and brought in from the drug lords who made up New York City and the Jersey region. Blu had a few of them as friends. Blu could do the welding herself. Wynne had enough connections to get the rest of the materials and had an artsy eye for the lady statue. The entire process was a big undertaking. The girls worked hard for over three hours. She was no small art sculpture, but it was coming along nicely.
Removing her welding helmet after finishing up on a section of the statue, Blu wiped the sweat from her brow. "Whewwwwww," she moaned. "I have had it for today, it's time to party," she announced. Wynne delegating tasks to a few warehouse helpers. They were holding long gripping wrenches and dipping metal pieces in burning pits of fire, then pounding them with hammers to soften them over.
There was a party tonight that's for sure, a private affair Wynne had thought of. She finished up and looked over to Blu, "Yup, I think we have done enough for today." Blu agreed with a sigh of relief.
After their work on the metal statue woman, the two ladies stood outside, looking out over the water. Wynne looked to her sister, "Someday, we will put the woman up out there together, Blu. It's going to mean something, and when we do, it's for real, right? Not some try at freedom, or an attempt to make people have hope. It's going to be a sign of a new age, the age of democracy again, where people can live together without someone ruling over them. Everyone will be treated at least a hell of a lot more equal than they are at the moment."
Blu grinned, nodding her head in agreement, "You're damn right, girl. We didn't work our asses off on that huge symbol for nothing. Even if we die trying, sister, it will go up one day . . . once we've kicked a little ass on the Corporation," she chuckled. "Anyway, I think we got a party to go to!" The two bumped fists in a salute of togetherness and made their way out of the secret warehouse.
The party Wynne had brought them to was not the typical sort of bash that Blu would attend. Her open-mindedness would more than likely get her into trouble. There's always been this thing about "not taking any shit" that always ended up with Blu getting into a big dramatic mess.
The entire tower was owned by some rich guy with ties to Y-Wood, and he was already wasted when the Mystical Slayers arrived. His name was Wycliffe. He had frosted blond hair and a large hoop earring. Tonight he was dressed in bright green pants and a long plum colored jacket. He knew Wynne from the interior decorating job she worked at. She only did that job to earn a few extra favors in return for help with building the secret lady statue. Neither he, nor anyone else here, knew about their secret statue. The top two floors of his place were decorated with Wynne's artis
tic flavor and she had somehow ended up with an invitation to his drugs sold and funded party.
The clientele here were either wealthy, prostitutes that were not called prostitutes anymore, drug sellers, or party goers who looked good and gave the bash a more sexy atmosphere. Wycliffe greeted the girls with his smell of booze and a covering of white powder under his nose. "Ladies, welcome to my humble abode, my darlings. Make yourself at home, just don't stain my nice furniture," he said while swaying about and giggling.
The ladies had stopped at a nearby apartment they had secured months ago, and had already changed for the occasion. Wynne had slipped into a sleek black and blue sparkled gown. She wore her blond hair down and had added a few curls to give it more bounce. She looked very nice with matching black heels, a few silver bracelets, and a pearl necklace. Blu was off the beaten path with her attire. She would draw attention, as always, and there was nothing Wynne or anyone else could do about it. Her hair was colored in her trademark blue and crazily styled in many different directions. Her piercings were all visible and her clothing, mostly black leather, was quite revealing.
The other guests appeared to be more from Wynne's walk of life. Rich brats, old has-beens, and those faking a wealthy lifestyle. The beverages were passed about and game tables were set up for gambling with dice and cards. Rooms at the back and sides were used for sexual play, while dancing and coke snorting was the mainstay of the open floor for the rest of the party goers.
There was always a plan when the sisterhood went out in public. It was either to inspire others, or to gain information to be used in the ever ongoing war against the Corporation.
Tonight, for Blu, the plan was to get drunk, do drugs, and hopefully fuck! For Wynne, thankfully, it was a different story. For her, the affair was all about guns. A dealer in laser rifles was here according to her intelligence sources. She needed to get some for the base in New York. This was no simple undertaking. A large quantity would trigger suspicion, and not enough would be of no real help, risking this crazy night out for nothing. She needed a good supply, and tonight was the night to try and make it happen.
LAND of the FREE (A Dystopian Society in a Post-Apocalyptic America) (Mystical Slayers Book 1) Page 8