Girl Punches Out

by Jacques Antoine

  “That’s enough,” Miss Park snarled. “Come this way.”

  Emily looked at her darkly for a brief moment, then stepped toward her.

  “Nice haircut,” sneered Miss Park, as she pulled a hood over Emily’s head.

  ~~~~~~~

  Danny watched the entire scene unfold from the trees on the side of the road. He drove the car Jesse had seen following them, one of the estate cars. It hadn’t been easy to “borrow” it and get off the estate unnoticed, even with all the confusion of the moment. He watched helplessly as Miss Park clamped what looked like a damp rag over Emily’s face. Barely a second or two later she went limp without any struggle. The man behind her stepped quickly forward, hoisted Emily over his shoulder and rushed back to the plane with her.

  Danny was frozen by what he saw happening around him, and he could see that Jesse was, too. Emily just let them take her with no resistance! After a moment, Jesse seemed to gather himself, and pulled the children towards him and turned to lead them back to the SUVs.

  “Not so fast,” Danny heard Miss Park shout.

  Shots rang out before he could react. It looked like Jesse was hit in the chest and neck. He bled profusely on the ground where he lay. Miss Park grabbed the children by the rope tying them together and pulled them back to the plane. Ethan ran forward, unable to shoot for fear of hitting Anthony. Before he made it ten paces more shots rang out from the trees on the side of the road. He fell to the ground groaning, struck in the leg and shoulder. Jiang was almost to Jesse before two more shots brought him down. The children were screaming. Emily could know nothing of what had just transpired.

  A moment later a third man emerged from the underbrush less than a hundred feet from where Jesse and Jiang lay on the ground. He wore dark clothes and carried a sniper rifle over his shoulder. He stood over Jiang and muttered something, then strode over to Ethan who lay on his back, stunned a few yards from the SUVs.

  With a pistol over Ethan’s forehead the sniper stood ready to finish him when a rock the size of a large peach struck him on the side of the head. He staggered from the blow, dropped the pistol and fell to his knees next to Ethan.

  Before the sniper could recover his senses, Danny burst from the trees and leapt at him, striking the man with his shoulder and driving him to the ground. He punched the man repeatedly in the face in a frenzy of rage and fear. But somehow he was not able to finish him. The man was too strong. He pushed Danny up and suddenly had a huge knife in his hand. Before he could stab him with it Ethan somehow managed to find the pistol and press it against the man’s ribs. A loud noise and his chest seized up, and finally relaxed. He dropped the knife. Danny stared into his face as an expression of profound surprise spread across it. Events had betrayed him, or perhaps his comrades. Gradually, he seemed to fade from behind his own eyes.

  An engine revved. Danny looked up to see the plane moving down the road. He sprang up to run after it.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Ethan yelled at him. “Stay here.”

  “No! They’ve got her,” he cried. “We have to do something.”

  “Help me up,” Ethan pleaded. “We’ve got to help Jesse.”

  Danny hesitated. He desperately wanted to run after the plane, to chase it down. And do what? He didn’t know. Maybe grab the tail and wrestle it to the ground. A moment later the plane was in the air. He stopped where he was and took a deep breath.

  By the time they made it over to Jesse he was gone. The bullet had severed a major artery in his neck. He must have died within a few seconds. Danny saw the vacancy behind his eyes. Softly he put his hand across Jesse’s eyes. Behind him he could hear Jiang groaning. He went over to him and left Ethan with his friend. Jiang had been hit twice, once in the hip and once in the back.

  “We have to get them home,” said Ethan. “You’ll have to carry them back to the trucks. Can you do that?”

  Danny nodded and helped Jiang to his feet. He was enormous. If he hadn’t been able to walk there would have been no way to carry him. He carried Jesse by himself and laid him in the rear. Ethan wrapped the wound in his own leg while Danny tried to bandage Jiang’s wounds. It was hard to figure out how to help, and Jiang was having trouble breathing.

  “I’ll see to him,” Ethan said. “His lung’s collapsed. Pull that guy over there into the woods. We can’t leave him in the road.” Before Danny could go, Ethan handed him a cell phone. “Get a picture of him first.”

  Danny drove them all back to Charlottesville. Ethan called to arrange for the other vehicles to be picked up. The estate more and more began to resemble an infirmary.

  ~~~~~~~

  “She’s gone,” Danny said to his mother, his voice trembling. “They put her on a plane and took her away.”

  “What about Anthony?” Andie shrieked from the doorway and ran out of the room.

  Ethan limped after and tried to explain what happened. He found her sitting out on the patio, weeping with Yuki. She seemed inconsolable.

  “Jesse’s dead,” he said.

  Andie caught herself at those words.

  “We’d all be dead if Danny hadn’t been there.”

  Ethan described what happened in hushed tones. Yuki put her hand on the back of Andie’s neck. She turned and wrapped Yuki up in her arms and sobbed over her shoulder.

  “What are we gonna do?” she asked.

  “Emily’s with him,” Yuki whispered. “Let’s just cling to that.”

  “We better go find Danny,” Andie said after a moment. “He might need a little consoling too.”

  They found him upstairs in Emily’s room with Dr. Tarleton and his mother. They were tending to Jiang who was unconscious by now. The bedding was covered in blood and bandages. The scene was shocking at first. After they regained a little composure, they walked over to Danny, who sat in the corner staring at the floor. Yuki touched him on the shoulder.

  “She’s gone,” he said.

  “We know,” replied Andie as she knelt beside him with a hand on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing Ethan and Jesse back to us.”

  “That was very brave,” Yuki added.

  “I couldn’t do anything to help her,” he stammered out.

  “She didn’t want you to,” Yuki said.

  “But she just let them take her!”

  “That was her plan. But she’d be glad for what you did for the others.”

  Andie tried as hard as she could to keep from falling to pieces as she said these last words. Finally she kissed him on the forehead, and walked quickly from the room. She stood on the landing by the stairs and steadied herself on the railing. A wave of nausea washed over her. She felt dizzy. It passed after a moment.

  She walked as quickly as she could down the stairs and over to Michael’s bed in the study. Ethan was already there making his report. She stood in the doorway and listened, no more tears left. Michael turned to look at her.

  “You were right,” she said. He looked puzzled. “We do need her more than she needs us.” He nodded.

  “We’ll get them back,” he said. “All of ‘em.”

  “I just hope Connie’s right,” she said.

  ~~~~~~~

  Danny took his mother home the next day, over Andie’s protests. Now Emily was gone he couldn’t imagine any danger still loomed over them. Michael insisted on having Ethan assign a security detail to watch over them from a discreet distance. Danny acquiesced reluctantly.

  He was in a funk all day at school. At lunch, Wendy tried to ask him what was wrong before the others arrived, but he didn’t give her much of an opening.

  “She’s gone.”

  Wendy didn’t understand what he meant at first. The look on his face told her what she didn’t want to know.

  “What’s up guys?” Wayne asked, before he got a good look at Danny’s face.

  It all came tumbling out once he recovered the power of speech a few minutes later. By that time, they were all assembled to hear it. The news fell on Melanie with crushing force, and she turne
d a ghostly shade of pale. It looked like she couldn’t breathe. Ordinarily she would run out to the patio to be alone at a moment like this. But she just didn’t seem strong enough this time. No consoling words came from anyone’s mouth.

  “She’s not dead. Tell me she’s not dead,” Melanie pleaded.

  “I don’t think they went to so much trouble just to kill her,” Wendy said.

  Even Danny could see how poorly chosen those words were. But he had nothing better to offer. Wayne put his hand on the back of Melanie’s neck. She found some solace resting her head on his shoulder. Finally she turned toward him and buried her face in his chest.

  They all desperately wanted to reassure each other that somehow things would turn out not to be as dreadful as every appearance suggested.

  “What about her family? You said they have a plan,” Wayne finally offered.

  “A plan?” Danny growled. “A plan’s not going to save her. These people, they’re like animals. You didn’t see. Miss Park, she… she like just shot Jesse right there…. You remember him? He’s dead. They meant to kill everybody!”

  He realized he was yelling and caught himself. Other tables were looking their way. His friends sat staring at him. There were no more words, or anything words could do for them.

  -back to top-

  Chapter 20

  In the Cave

  The pounding in her head was loud enough to wake her up. She tried to spit the cotton balls out, but they just wouldn’t come. The headache was intense. A glass of water would go down nicely. It was too dark to make out how big the room was. An echo sounded off a distant ceiling with a metallic sound. The masonry bench she was lying on chilled her spine.

  “It’s freezing in here, and I seem to be naked,” she muttered. “No, not naked. Just my underwear.”

  A small bandage covered a sore spot on her arm. She pictured needles and blood samples, felt a scrape just below her elbow. Had she been raped? It didn’t feel like it. At least, she didn’t feel any different. They must have gotten all the DNA they could possibly need. What more could they want? Perhaps the underwear was some sort of threat.

  “Have to hold everything together. Get up! Explore the room.”

  It was large, like a warehouse. Very quiet, the walls must be thick. It’s so cold, she thought. Maybe Connie was right about Kamchatka. No heating elements or vents visible. No windows. Only a dim, bare bulb wire-dangling out of reach.

  Time crawled along the cracks in the wall. How long would they make her wait? She sat back down on the stone bench, legs folded. There was only one thing about this situation she could control. Her breath came in and went out. Her hands made the familiar movements, tensed and relaxed alternately. She pushed both palms forward, spread them out along an imaginary wire to either side, palms down, brought them together, palms up. She pulled them back to her chest and pushed forward again.

  The room faded away, the cold stone receded. She felt her lungs fill the space. Voices echoed from a distance. Were they in the room? Or just outside? Or much further away? Orders in a sharp voice of command, others responded marching. Her breathing couldn’t quite reach them. Were they approaching? No, they seemed much more distant. Her heart beat out the familiar rhythm. Her ribs began to pulse with it. Her breath pressed against the edges of the room. She pushed off the walls and back within herself. Deep. Down past the darkness in her heart reserved for Miss Park. Deeper. Brighter. The light seared her eyes.

  It was warm. Still, fragrant air clung to her as she walked. The sunlight resolved itself into splashes and shadows. Water flowed in the distance, quietly burbling. Her father lived here. At least his memory did. She could spend hours here. Perhaps she already had. It was difficult to keep track of time. But she had to keep moving.

  The sound of the water drew her on. It fell from a great height, as high as the sky. But not rain. On the ledge behind the falls water curled through the air in a fine mist. It was enchanting. She filled her chest and her head with the moisture. This no longer felt like her father’s home. Shadows beckoned, a darkness off to the right. She peered inside. No ambient light penetrated there. A few tentative steps and she left the misty world behind. No sounds followed her.

  No light, just blackness, but she had no trouble seeing the walls of the cave. The floor fell away the further she walked. The air was warmer than she expected. The slope drew her on. Her steps quickened. Soon she was running, faster maybe than she liked. Finally she was in freefall. The darkness cushioned her, letting her pass, practically caressing her as she went. Who dwelt here? It was a familiar spirit. She recognized it, even if she couldn’t quite put a name on it. The darkness loved her, she felt it. But there was something else underneath it all, something fiercer, more menacing. It dawned on her, this was her mother’s place. It was her… reassuringly her.

  She hit the ground with a thud. Not nearly as hard as she expected. A noise scraped from behind the door. She opened her eyes and sat up as the door creaked open. Someone stood in the doorway, his face still in shadow. Others behind him craned to catch a glimpse of her. Their impatience meant they couldn’t hold back for long. She studied them closely as they spilled into the room. Nine or ten men, mostly Asian, though two were rather taller and blond. Russians. Connie was right about Kamchatka. That thought dispelled whatever anxiety the arrival of these men might otherwise have caused. She knew what she had to do.

  The Asians looked like soldiers, though they weren’t exactly in uniform. They wore fatigues and heavy shoes. No insignia were visible, and no weapons. They looked well fed, most of them. Two were smaller and thinner, perhaps no larger than herself. Undernourished, Emily thought. New recruits. She sat quietly as they formed a semi-circle around her spot on the bench.

  No one moved for a few seconds, as if they didn’t know what to do, or how to begin if they did know. She stood and took a step forward, allowing them to surround her. The Russians hung back. The soldiers eyed her almost hungrily. Whispers and growls bounced around the circle. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. Korean probably. Finally one of the larger ones, well fed, grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. The others crowded around her, reaching out to touch her. She offered no noticeable resistance. Her passivity seemed to offend them. One man swung his hand, meaning to slap her face. Then everything changed.

  Before any of the men knew what had happened one of their number was lying on the floor clutching his throat with his unbroken arm, unable to scream. Somehow she controlled the right hand of the man holding her. He winced as she twisted his arm up and out, stepping and pivoting underneath. He was helpless. As she spun behind him she kicked sideways through the knee of another man standing behind her. It snapped with a hideous sound. She hardly noticed, but the men were frozen in horror. In the pause this provided she twisted the man whose arm she controlled until his head hit the floor with a crack. He slumped on to his side. Before anyone else could react she spun though their midst wreaking havoc and mayhem as she went. Joints cracked, faces smashed against hard things, none left standing. One small, frightened man hid in the corner trembling. The rest were broken, mangled men. The whole thing was over in a very brief moment.

  She stood in the middle of the carnage, eyes ablaze, glowering at the Russians. They tried to look unimpressed, or at least unafraid. Not soldiers, she guessed. Dock workers from Petropavlosk? A little money and the promise of some easy pleasure probably lured them in. They were large men, with strong hands—that suggested some training. Maybe they were sailors from the naval base. She gestured wordlessly to the door, inviting them to leave. They didn’t move, even though it seemed clear they understood her.

  She turned to the little man in the corner. Looming over him she pointed at his pants and made it clear she wanted his clothes. He hesitated for a moment, then complied. As she watched him, the expected hand pulled her around from behind by the shoulder. She spun to evade the fist she knew was coming. His arms were too thick for her to punch through t
he elbow. She kicked the back of his left knee as she spun, bringing him to his knees, and finished him with a knee to the soft spot at the base of his skull. He fell face first to the floor twitching.

  The second man was too fast. He struck her behind the ear with his fist before she could react. The force of the blow drove her to the floor. She rolled away before he could stomp on her head. He was clearly enraged by what he just watched happen to his friend. But she was on her feet before he could kick her. He hurled himself forward, perhaps meaning to tackle her. She was so much smaller, it was hard to know how else to fight her. If only he could grab her, he would crush her. She ducked under his outstretched hands, and with a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture nudged his right elbow up from below. She was ready when his hand dropped down to compensate, grabbing his wrist and twisting him sharply into a flip. He landed hard against the edge of the bench. His final position was awkward, his neck on the floor, his legs bent back across the bench. She towered over him as he lay cringing, helpless and vulnerable, not sure he could even move his legs. It would be so easy to finish him. She grabbed him by the belt and gently slid him off the bench, helping him arrange his body in a more reasonable position. She crouched for a moment next to his head gazing at his face. She patted his cheek and rubbed his forehead. When she walked away he could breathe again.

  The little man sat cringing in the corner with his clothes piled in front of him. He tried not to make eye contact. The pants and shirt fit her comfortably. The shoes were too big. She put them on anyway. They might prove useful outside if it was as cold as she feared.

  No effort had been made to close the door. It was practically an invitation to go through. Should she accept? It was clearly what someone wanted her to do. Nothing could be accomplished waiting where she was. Before going out she looked around the ceiling for the camera that had to be there. One of the dead Russian’s shoes was heavy enough to smash it.

  A long dark corridor—was she underground? The shoes echoed. How large was the complex? A few yards ahead the glowing outline of a door ajar hinted at a large, well lit room. Voices reached her ears. They had to be expecting her. She pushed on through into the light and found an octagonal ring about thirty feet across surrounded by walls more than two meters high. Above the walls a recessed walkway accommodated some scattered seating where several men in military uniforms looked down at her. Another door opposite was the only way out of the pit. A third opened onto the elevated walkway. This was the only sure way to get out. No wonder the Russians hadn’t left when she offered. There was no way out for them either.