“Are… are we supposed to be fighting?” Gabi stuttered, muddled from the body slams. For some reason she was talking to Bradley Fiske as though he were a rational person. “I thought we were just doing takedowns and holds?”
He thrust his open palms at Gabi’s chest, sending her onto her back again.
“They’re called takedowns, aren’t they?” Bradley sneered. The textured nylon of the mat abraded Gabi’s elbows, back, and tailbone as she tried to break her fall, then roughed across her again as Bradley hauled her back to her feet. “Okay, now you,” he said, stepping toward her and spreading his arms wide in mock surrender. “Take me down, reject.”
Gabi bristled with the desire to do just that. It had never occurred to her to be angry at Bradley and his gang. It was just nature. The strong culling the weak. But Gabi had learned that she wasn’t weak, or maybe that she wasn’t only weak. However hobbled she felt as she fought to clear the medicine from her system, she had a stubborn strength inside her that couldn’t be touched by anyone, not even Bradley Fiske.
Despite all his bluster, Gabi knew that Bradley’s brawn only went as deep as his overdeveloped muscles. He’s afraid all the time, Gabi reminded herself as he taunted her with air jabs and little slaps at her face. The stink that hung around him wasn’t just unwashed hair and dirty socks. It was fear. If he had been the one to witness all that she had on D Wing, he would have curled up like a leaf in a flame and burned to a trembling pile of ash.
When Bradley moved to sting her with another slap, Gabi deflected his hand. It was an awkward gesture, halting and poorly aimed so that his wristbone bruised hers painfully, but his slap didn’t land. Bradley was looking at Gabi as though she’d sprouted a tail. “What the—” he snarled. Gabi’s elation was short-lived as Bradley, too enraged to finish his own sentence, bent over and rammed his shoulder into her middle so that both of them landed in a tangled heap on the mat. In a quick series of maneuvers, he pinned Gabi facedown and yanked her arms behind her back. His foul breath steamed in her ear as the weight of his body squeezed the air out of her. Gabi reared her head up with as much force as she could manage and felt the crunch of Bradley’s nose against the back of her skull.
“I’m bleeding!” Bradley yelped, and Gabi could smell the tang of his blood, feel it dribbling onto the back of her neck where her skin was exposed by her messy ponytail. He winched her arms tighter and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “You will pay for that, reject,” he spat. “I am going to make you pay, do you hear me?” He flipped her over with a deft motion, pinned her torso, and jammed his nose up against hers. He was so close that all she could see was the bloodshot rage in one unblinking eye. The blood from his nostrils spattered dangerously close to her mouth. It reminded her of Marcus.
“You are nothing,” Bradley taunted. “Nobody cares about you. Nobody wants you, not even your own mother. She threw you out like trash, and that’s all you’ll ever be. Go back where you came from, reject.” Where she came from? What was he talking about? Gabi came from here. Here was all she’d ever known. And why was Bradley Fiske talking about her mother? Was that the worst insult he could harvest from his feeble brain?
A whistle blast screeched above them, and as Bradley pulled his head back a couple of inches, Gabi saw Helmsgerth’s enormous sneakers planted beside their heads.
“All right, lovebirds, break it up.” Revulsion bucked in Gabi’s gut. As if there was anything amorous between her and the dumb beast on top of her. Bradley scrambled to his feet and brushed himself down as though to ward off a contagious disease. Sitting up, Gabi used her sleeve to wipe off the back of her neck and the smears of blood on her lower face. It was hard to imagine that she would ever feel clean again after being so close to Bradley, but suffering the gauntlet of the locker room would be worth it to try.
“Whose blood is that?” Helmsgerth growled, gripping Bradley by the jaw and examining his face through slitted eyes. Bradley was mute, but the answer was obvious from the beet-like swelling of his nose and blood gushing over his lips.
I gave Bradley Fiske a bloody nose. The realization made Gabi want to laugh and spin and also hide in a secret cave deep in the bowels of the earth forever, since her days would surely be numbered now. Bradley was dumb and cowardly, but he was also completely single-minded, and he never forgot a slight. So be it, Gabi concluded. If bashing Bradley’s face in was her last act on earth, she’d take it. It felt too good to regret.
“Well, it looks like you need to work on your defense, Fiske,” Helmsgerth chuckled, casting an appraising glance at Gabi. “Never underestimate your opponent.”
“I… I didn’t… she… it was—” Bradley spluttered, bloody saliva landing in pink apostrophes on Helmsgerth’s uniform.
“That’s enough, Fiske. Go get yourself cleaned up, and I mean use soap this time. I need to call the bio-waste crew in to take care of this. Bag up your uniform and give it to me after you’ve changed. You too, Lowell. They could probably use another coating of antibacterial lacquer anyway.” Bradley cast a longing look toward Gabi, anxious to spill some of her blood before Training Period was over, but Helmsgerth clamped a hand around the back of his neck and shoved him toward the locker rooms. Gabi clambered to her
