As he jumped on her, she placed two feet in the way, and just as he came down, she grabbed him by his robotic arms and sent him flying over her as she followed with the throw. He landed hard, and she was back on her feet. She immediately ran over to him as he was starting to get up. Grabbing one of his big bionic arms, she leaped over his face with both feet and fell back with the arm anchored to her pelvic region. She then pulled the joint down and cranked her hips up to rip the arm from its owner. Madness erupted in the stands as spectators started fights of their own. The people were going nuts!
With only one arm functioning, the Indian tried to roll and grab his lost axe. But Mahira was a bit quicker, despite being half-blind, and grabbed the very hatchet he was trying to retrieve. With all the energy she had left, she drove it home with a deadly slice across his throat, and dark crimson blood started to spurt out from the fresh wound. It sprayed into her face and onto her body until she was drenched from head to toe in the Indian’s blood.
He dropped to his knees, gurgling and holding his throat. Mahira went to him, as bloody as she was, and leaned down by his oozing neck to offer a little advice. “Cheaters never win,” she growled. She then kicked him over and watched as he toppled backwards to his demise. The champion of the tournament was crowned.
The spectator's after fight was of no concern to Mahira or Tyne. It was over within thirty seconds. The loser had been so confident in his Indian top dog that he had forgotten to bring a champion to combat for him. So he was sent out to fight alone, and the outcome was not in his favor.
Chapter 7
The woman had two more stops to make and no time to spare. There was a competition in Connecticut, be it at a smaller one, and then a final event in Rhode Island before the granddaddy of them all.
So Connecticut was next. The ladies reached a suitable area along the way and pulled off the side of the road. They needed, well, Mahira mainly, needed some sleep. After all, she was the one who would be fighting again soon. Tyne explained the situation at hand. “There’s someone that has been following us . . . actually, it's a group of people. They have tailed us for a while now.”
Mahira looked about as she got off their roadster, “So much for a nap!”
Tyne scanned all about. “They have pulled off the road and are circling us now.” She immediately began grafting her laser shooters from both arms while Mahira unstrapped her double-bladed axe from the all road vehicle. “I was not sure they were even interested in us. But then I noticed their odd movements, and a woman amongst them has been contacting others on a handheld device.”
Out of the brush and trees came a group of four men and two women. They were dressed quite rough but didn't look all that intimidating. A middle-aged woman wearing a head scarf stepped forward and announced, “We’re not looking for a fight . . . we just need that prize money you've recently won.”
Mahira and Tyne both looked at one another and scowled. Another of the everyday robber gangs. A man with a black face covering and a gray hoodie issued a warning, “We have guns and will shoot if you try to come at us.”
The others all raised handguns, aiming straight at the two sisters.
“This is not going to be pretty," Tyne spoke to her sidekick. "These people have no idea.”
Mahira tried to stop them. “Listen, are you all serious?” She put her axe down and continued, “Why don’t we make a deal before anyone gets hurt?” She then went over to the bag of money she had won. “Tell you what, how much do you all need to be happy? We’re all fighting against the corruption of Y-Wood, so it seems silly to fight each other.”
The woman in the head scarf replied back, “We all have families to feed, shelters to build, medicines that cost more than we have,” she explained, motioning for her companions to lower their guns. “No one cares about the poor anymore. It’s either you’re rich, or kissing ass to President Marcou and his board of egomaniacs.”
Tyne’s arms had now formed into laser cannons. A yell from one of the other guys in the crew sent everyone into chaos. “Watch it! The light blond one is a machine!" he screamed out crazily. "She has firing capability!” This caused Mahira to leap behind their bike as shots fired at them from the group. Tyne took a hit, then another, but before any more damage could be done, she blasted at the stupid ass shooters. Everyone tried to dive for cover and stay hidden as much as possible.
There was a moment of silence, then the other woman in the bandit group called out, “Okay, we give up, let’s talk.”
At that moment, a young man stepped out from behind a wide tree.
The woman leader yelled to the teen, “What are you doing, Curly? Get back here!” But he did not listen. He was a young fellow and had the curliest brown hair, and he was somewhat big and decently rugged too. He looked over at Mahira. “I could take you,” he snarled at her.
The older women called to him again, “Get the hell back!” But he still did not listen.
He grinned at Mahira, “I've always wanted to see if I could fight somebody from the pit, but I never had a sponsor to do it for real. Now I get a chance at the champion. Grant me this, no weapons, just hand-to-hand, you and me.” The solid young teen licked his lips and raised his fists. “If I win, we get all the money, if you win, we turn and go.” Mahira got a kick out of this big kid. Yeah, he was a bit off, but he had balls.
"I tell you what," Mahira announced, shaking her head. “I'll fight you, but if I win, you'll think twice before trying to ransack people on the roadside because that's pretty much what the Corporation wants us to do, beat each other up. So let's not make it easier for them, okay?”
She stepped forward and motioned for curly locks to come at her.
He then slipped out a strange rubber mouth guard with fangs on the front part and inserted it into his mouth. Now he was scary and ready . . . or so he thought.
His opponent cracked her knuckles and got up on the balls of her feet. She then took to avoiding his blows as the fight began. He missed punching her several times. She circled right against his power, stepped back at a right angle and then jumped left. He rushed in quicker and tried to punch her directly in the face, but she drove her foot into his stomach to slow his pace.
Curly then tried again to hit her, first with a jab, which missed, a cross that Mahira knocked aside, and then he tried to hook her in the side of the mouth. She dropped down under the swing and bobbed and weaved to her left. She then clocked him with an elbow right on his nose, and splat it went.
His nose was broken and running profusely with blood. This really pissed the young guy off. This time he tried to slam a kick into her chest, and when she stepped back and hooked her left arm under his Achilles tendon, she was able to quickly throw him backwards. As he started to fall, he caught his balance and was mighty proud of himself for staying upright, but she was already at him with another punch directly to his face.
He kicked out to try to break one of her legs, but she blocked it by raising the same leg up to check his maneuver. He was a tough teen, and he was able to jump right into her and place a headlock around her neck. Curly then took his free hand and was preparing to bash upward into Mahira’s face, but she reached around his back, grabbed his approaching hand and held it close to her hip so that he could not punch her. She was going to duck under him, but his grip was too tight, then he randomly stomped on her foot, causing her to yell out in pain. That's when she dropped and rolled between his legs and came up on top of him.
He cried out, “Get off me!” He was struggling and irate.
Mahira grabbed hold of his close arm and inverted it in a chicken wing arm lock. She swung one foot over his face and one on the other side of his neck as she wrenched on his shoulder. He cried out like a baby in utter pain.
The woman with the head scarf ran up and pleaded with Mahira to stop.
Mahira tossed the boy down. He pouted for a few seconds but eventually got back up. It was obvious he had a few screws loose, but he was cor
dial and asked, “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as he finally got a firsthand taste of this incredible woman’s abilities.
Mahira looked to all the would-be robbers. “I'm just like you in many ways, but I and my friend here are not your average road travelers.”
The boy before her rose up and continued, “I figured you were like some savage fighter, but I didn't really think you had brains. Pretty much thought you just wanted to kill things and make all sorts of money.”
Tyne and Mahira both looked at one another and shook their heads.
Mahira wiped the sweat from her brow. “Well, you got one part right. I do enjoy the adrenaline rush of fighting, I'll give you that. I was born fighting with my step dad who taught me moves and instilled in me to never back down, especially from some random guy.”
The gang of people listened intently and moved in closer to the two women, no longer fooling around with their threats.
Mahira went on, “The thing is, me and my friend are freedom fighters, and we're trying to make it so it's not such a rigid, dominated country. Some of my fellow sisters are a whole lot smarter than I, but we all want freedom. We are all are tired of the bullying and the tyranny that now dominates this nation." She raised both her hands to the onlookers. “You people should be doing the same thing, watching out for those in need or those in danger. It takes just a few people to start a rising against Y-Wood, or any other greedy, over powerful self-named kings for that matter.”
Tyne now added, “With all the money we are earning and fighting for, well, it helps us fight the good fight, so to speak. So you're kind of robbing from the people that want to help feed you. We will give you guys a little bit of money and hope you've learned your lesson.”
Mahira then announced, “They call us Mystical Slayers. Spread the word, let it be known there is still hope. Hope for a better life for anyone and everyone, and for those out here suffering and scrapping to make ends meet.”
In the end, they all shook hands. There would be no more killing here today.
As the sisters prepared to get on the move again, Mahira yelled back to the group, “Live free or die!” The people watching her felt a sense of pride from her words. They would hold out hope that this sisterhood was good enough to really make a difference in a world dominated by the wealthy and powerful.
Chapter 8
The rest of the trip to Connecticut was fairly uneventful, except for a surprise attack by a whole flock of turkeys passing by on the road.
Everything was looking good, but they were only a few days out of the Yankee state when a caravan of SUV riders approached the woman from the west. They honked their horns and shot off guns while circling all around the women. They then formed a blockade to stop the pair from going any further.
Tyne Gem immediately went online to contact her other sisters. This was not looking good. An emergency call was sent out to Blu, the alternative goth girl of the sisterhood, and more importantly, the sky captain who had her own flying ship. They needed her quickly, so the call was made.
Once the caravan blockade was in position, several men and women came out of their vehicles. There had to be at least two dozen of them. Even if Tyne started to form her laser rifle arms now, she and Mahira would have suffered from too many gun shots by the time she had chance to shoot down any of these marauders. So both women waited and decided not to go on the offense just yet.
It almost seemed like a planned attack, and it must have been orchestrated pretty smoothly to have so many vehicles on the road together at the same time
This was a crew of rednecks. A guy who looked like their leader jumped out of a brown truck and made his way over to the ladies. He was a skinny fellow with long, messy hair thrown over to one side of his head. “Well, howdy yawl, looks like we got some real pretty woman all caught in a mousetrap today now don’t it?”
The women remained silent as more people got out of their vehicles and surrounded them.
The redneck went on with his true southern drawl. “Here's my proposition," he called out. "We all will take that there roadster you got . . . man that thing looks sweeeeeeeeeet. Then we chat about you two sweet little blond baby dolls.”
As he talked on, several of his crew started to spread themselves out behind him, some held rifles, others held clubs or knives, and one even had a crossbow slung over his shoulder and a quiver of arrows on his back.
Mahira asked, “Who sent you?”
The mouthy, skinny leader gave her the answer. “Well, if you're asking if we work for that there fancy Corporation, hell no, they can go fuck 'emselves. We do our own thing. We like to consider ourselves outlaws,” he added with a giggle and a smirk.
There were some rumblings in the group and a shady guy in homemade armor approached the skinny leader. He addressed the leader as Goliath. This guy was a short, Italian looking dude, and he saw that the women were listening in, so he started to whisper to his boss. It didn't make any difference because the girls could still hear him. He mentioned that one of the women before them was an arena fighter.
The ladies had a choice here. That they knew for sure. Giving up their roadster was one thing, but all the earnings were stashed in a bag on the bike, and that was a pill that would be way too hard to swallow.
Goliath saw the two ladies making eye contact with each other and interjected, “What y'all be thinking over there? In fact, I bet I can guess . . . two hotties out here on the open road, gettin' caught and captured by a crew like mine . . . well, you two is nervous, aint ya?”
He smiled to reveal very few teeth. “You can only imagine how probably a few of us are gonna want a little hanky-panky with y'all, right, buttercups?” He then looked about at his crew, who were all nodding and grinning like they approved of his idea. He sure had a dirty lot of scoundrels with him.
“Well you don't have to worry about that. Not all of us are gonna want to play with you,” he then spun about, yelling loudly, “but YOU CAN BET YOUR PRETTY LITTLE ASSES there's gonna be some of us gettin' a little lovin' out of y'all today.” The group about him gibbered in agreement.
Staying in the middle of this band wouldn't be the best strategy, and both ladies knew it. They needed to rush one end to get some coverage behind the vehicles and get out of the line of fire.
Mahira had a laser pistol at her hip. Trouble always had a way of finding her, and this wasn't going to be an easy target. Tyne had already started to form her weapons, and they both darted quickly to the northeast end of the caravan.
Mahira shot at the gang of rednecks, catching them all by surprise. Goliath screamed out, “Don’t kill them! I want my play toys alive!” That sick and twisted demand would actually keep them both alive.
Both women had bought themselves just enough time to get away from the rednecks and find cover behind the vehicles. Goliath kept barking commands as a fight broke out. “Take that roadster and everything on it! The rest of you, get those little chickadees and bring them to me,” he said, pointing over at where the women were hiding. Then an all-out skirmish ensued, Mahira fired some more shots and punched a few in the face, and Tyne’s laser rifles had formed fully, so she blasted several of the rednecks all about them. The band of outlaws charged after them or shot at them to slow them down.
Mahira got hit in the leg while Tyne took three or four shots to the back, one of which penetrated her lower neck. It was not easy to get behind the SUVs and both suffered as they sprinted around them.
At that point, Tyne had her computer system shut down. She was left as nothing more than a walking corpse as she then collapsed down to her knees.
Mahira was overwhelmed, and both women were taken as prisoners by the redneck crew. They were dragged back out into the open by their hair, thrown to the ground and tied up with their hands behind their backs.
Goliath seemed pretty pleased with the result.
“Alright, one of you isn’t real, that’s pretty obvious now . . . and you killed some o
f my crew! Tut, tut, tut, that's not so good either,” he scolded.
Mahira let her ties stay in place for now, she knew if she tried to fight that more shots would rain down on them both, and Tyne was already out of it and slouched beside her.
The tall loser of a leader leaned over, pulling Tyne’s blond hair to lift her head up. He then looked to his rebel band, “Anybody here want to do a robot?" he grinned. "I'm looking around for volunteers . . . come on people, give me a show of hands . . . well, that’s not many!” he laughed sarcastically.
He then went to Mahira, “We won't worry about her right now. Let's talk about this other one, the little fighter. She's a tough little shit.” He then slapped her across the mouth and saw that her leg was hurt. “Hey, ya know what? Your leg is bleeding pretty bad, darlin',” he pointed to her wound. “You got a big boo-boo!”
Mahira did all she could to hold back.
Goliath ran around her in a circle like a freak on cocaine. “Now, how many of you guys want to do this feisty one?” Several hands shot up in the air. “Wow, now that's a lot of hands! Ya know what, girl? You’re gonna be real busy tonight.”
Mahira lost it. She wrapped both her ankles around his left leg in a cross guard hold and twisted sideways to buckle him to the ground. It was then she spotted a knife in his boot. Wriggling her hands free from the ties behind her back, she grabbed it from its sheath and jumped on top of the leader with his sharp blade pointed right at his throat.
“If anyone moves, shoots, or tries anything," she screamed, "he dies . . . it's as simple as that! And don't think I'm screwing around,” she added.
The remaining rebels formed a circle around her, some pointing rifles and preparing to attack.
Waiting for what Goliath had to say, they could all see he was nervous. He surely didn't want to die, but he faked it and lied. “You got me," he laughed, turning his head to look at Mahira, "but what will you do when they all kill you after I’m dead? Cut my throat, go on, go right ahead," he drooled out. Mahira glared at the crowd of onlookers, the knife biting a little into their leader’s throat.
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