CHAPTER 14
I heard laughing and yelling behind me as they gave chase. My feet seemed to barely touch the pavement as I flew east. If I could just get clear of these sleepy residential streets and into the bustle of bars and restaurants at the other end of Drunkard's Walk, I would be safe. And I was doing it. I could hear them falling farther behind.
And then I fell.
My foot hit some loose gravel, the remains of a poorly patched pothole, and my legs shot out from under me. My pursuers quickly reached my prone form. One of them grabbed my jacket by the shoulder and yanked me to my feet.
“Stand up and take it like a man you fucking coward,” he shouted. It was the one with flat, brown hair. Curly was a few paces behind him.
Take it like man. That never made sense to me. Why should I be required to measure my worth based on my capacity to take or dish out violence? Isn't it long past time that we evolve beyond such primitive instincts? I briefly imagined engaging these two in a conversation regarding contemporary gender roles within our current social context. I didn't expect that would go well, and I nearly laughed at the prospect.
“Oh look, jackrabbit here thinks this is funny,” Curly observed. He punched me in the gut to show his disapproval.
“This really is a misunderstanding,” I managed to gasp. Curly prepared to hit me again but was shoved aside by BrownHair. Brown cracked his knuckles theatrically. His fist seemed to raise in slow motion. A strange roaring noise filled my ears.
Suddenly, Brown was sprawled on the grass. The roaring noise was gone, and Curly was staring past me in stunned silence. I turned and looked.
It was Dee.
She was wearing her full Superhero ensemble. The motorcycle jacket, goggles, helmet, fingerless gloves, even her gray and black body stocking. She stood with one foot on the ground and one on her skateboard. I now realized the roaring noise had been the sound of her skateboard approaching. The overhead street lights reflected off her goggles as she nodded a greeting. She then turned to Curly and said, “Pick on someone your own species.”
Curly seemed uncertain how to respond at first, then countered with, “keep your nose out a' our business, bitch.”
Brown groaned as he got up, rubbing the side of his head. “What the hell hit me?” he asked. I didn't have an answer for him, though it must have been something thrown by Dee. Thrown with impossible accuracy while she was hurtling toward us on her skateboard. Unbelievable.
Brown looked at Dee and began to realize what had happened. His confusion gave way to cold rage, and he immediately went on the attack. “You fucking bitch,” he shouted as he hurtled toward her.
Dee just stood there impassively as he closed the distance. He threw his weight behind a punch aimed squarely at her face. Dee's foot stabbed down, catching the end of her skateboard. It flipped into the air, and she deftly caught it then thrust it forward as a shield. Brown's fist cracked into underside of the board. Dee had planted her feet and leaned into the punch, so it was like striking a solid wall. Brown leaped back with a howl. He stared at his bleeding knuckles with an almost comical look of surprise.
“Cut your losses,” Dee advised, “I can do this all night.”
That seemed to just enrage Brown even more. He came at Dee again, swinging away with both fists despite his obvious injury. Dee parried and dodged, sometimes blocking with her board, sometimes using an arm, steadily giving ground as she did. Suddenly she jumped back, did a back-flip, kicking Brown in the chin as she did. As Brown staggered back, she wound up and threw the skateboard in my direction. It spun through the air like Captain America's shield, missing me and thudding into a target behind me. I turned to see Curly on the ground, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. The skateboard landed on its wheels and rolled a few feet into the street.
I'm not sure what Curly had been about to do to warrant Dee's attention, but I suspect I had just been rescued yet again. I put some distance between me and Curly.
I looked back toward Dee just in time to see Brown charge right at her. Dee ducked under it and flipped him over her shoulder. He sprawled into the road. Now Curly was up and again and rejoining the fight. He ran toward Dee only to jump back, barely avoiding a snap-kick to the head. Brown got back to his feet, and now Dee was being attacked from two sides. They kept coming at her, trying to hit her at the same time.
And yet she was holding her own. She took a couple hits to her helmet and the back of her jacket, but mostly she avoided or blocked everything they threw at her. It was like in the factory. She danced. There was no music this time, but it was the same frenetic, bouncing style as before. Like break dancing mixed with karate. It was amazing.
She grabbed Curly by the wrist as he tried to hit her, and suddenly he was flying past her and smashing into Brown. Now she was facing both of them at the same time. They probably should have circled and tried to attack from different directions again, but rage had evidently replaced any thought of tactics. Dee blocked everything they threw at her.
“Like I said, guys, I can do this all night.” She grinned as she said it. They seemed to take her unconcerned attitude as an insult and redoubled their efforts. Dee gave a bit of ground but still they couldn't lay a hand on her.
Then disaster struck. I saw it a moment before it happened but couldn't warn her fast enough. She stepped backwards but lost her balance when her foot landed on her skateboard instead of the pavement. Curly seized the opportunity and plowed into her. He pinned her to the ground, using all of his weight to hold her arms in place. He grunted as she got a knee into his groin, but he held on. Dee tried to force him off, but she couldn't seem to get the leverage she needed. Brown stepped up and made like he meant to kick her in the head.
I needed to do something. I didn't know what, but I definitely couldn't just stand there and do nothing. A dozen different thoughts ricocheted around my brain. I should try to tackle Brown. Or maybe punch him. Or call the police. No, my phone was broken, and that would take too long anyway. She just needed an opening... a moment to get free.
Then I had it. In the lowest, loudest voice I could summon, I shouted, “This is the police. GET ON THE GROUND NOW!”
Brown looked up, saw it was me, and just started laughing, but at least it delayed his kick. The real payoff, however, was with Curly. He turned to see who had shouted and in doing so released the pressure from Dee's right arm. Her hand disappeared into a jacket pocket. Seeing no cop, Curly turned back to Dee and tried to pin her arm back down, but the damage was done. A moment later he screamed and sprawled onto the pavement, twitching. A second later, Dee kicked her legs into the air, converting their momentum into a flip that landed her back onto her feet. She then calmly put Mister Zappy back in her pocket. She turned to Brown.
Rage contorted his face. “Let's finish this,” he hissed.
“If you insist,” Dee replied. Her foot snapped out and caught him in stomach. He doubled over, and the flat of her hand caught him on the nose as he fell forward. He collapsed to the ground, his hands held to his face and his knees pulled up to chest. “I really didn't want to hurt you,” she said, “Why couldn't you just get a clue and give up?” She actually sounded... apologetic.
Curly rolled to his side and saw the state of his companion. He started to get up, then looked up at Dee and laid back on the ground. He had a confused look on his face.
Dee turned to me. “Let's get out of here. I told them I could do this all night, but frankly I'm not in the mood.” She walked over to her skateboard, flipped it into the air with her foot, then grabbed it and tucked it under her arm.
“Time for coffee?” I asked her.
“Definitely,” she replied.