“Holy crap!” Elsie exclaims, looking out over the room, wide-eyed. “We’ve stumbled upon the underground Fight Club society of the south. Look at these people,” she says, almost unbelievingly.
“I know, who knew this world existed,” Janie says, also scanning the room.
“It’s like a parallel universe, our car went through a portal, throwing us into this dimension,” Elizabeth says.
Janie and Elsie look at her like she’s nuts.
“What? Haven’t you guys ever watched Dr. Who? You know, with the Tardis, an English telephone booth/spaceship that takes him and his assistant, usually a woman that’s madly in love with him, to anywhere in time or anyplace in the universe,” she explains to Janie and Elsie, like she can’t believe they have never seen the show.
“Yeah, I’ve seen some episodes,” Elsie responds.
“Ok, you got that one, Liz,” Janie says, giving her head a firm nod.
Everyone in the room is ‘wound up tighter than Dick’s hatband,’ whatever the hell that phrase means. The tension in the air is palpable, pulling you in, and wrapping around you so tightly that you can’t help but feel choked by it.
Tonight the members of Evolutions are competing against other MMA fighters from gyms within a hundred mile radius. Not every applicant who signed up was accepted, only those with the highest rankings in their gym. The competition was organized by Conflict MMA and it’s huge.
The girls spot an Evolutions Gym t-shirt in the crowd.
Janie grabs Elsie and Elizabeth’s hands and starts to maneuver them through the throng of people, towards their beacon in the crowd.
“Stay close and don’t let go of my hand. If we lose each other, we could be screwed for the rest of the night. Especially you two, as short as you are,” Janie says pulling them along.
“Hey, now,” Elizabeth starts to protest.
“Get real, Liz, you know she’s right. We can’t even see anyone over the crowd,” Elsie laughs.
“Shut up, I know, but I don’t have to admit it,” Elizabeth says as she’s being pulled along, the girls pushing bodies out of their way as they go.
“Embrace the shortness, love it and it shall love you,” Elsie laughs.
The three of them giggle like teenagers at the new age mantra.
They finally find the beacon they’ve been searching for, the person with the Evolutions shirt on. Janie taps the broad back looming in front of her, as the girls look around and see other Evolutions shirts nearby.
“We are with our people now,” Elsie exclaims in a melodic voice.
The man turns and they recognize him from the gym. They don’t know his name, but they’ve seen him each time they’ve gone for classes. He smiles broadly at them, recognizing them instantly, especially Marco’s woman, Elizabeth.
“Hi, ladies, so glad you could come and support the guys from Evolutions. We have never officially met, I’m Dylan,” he says, loud enough for them to hear him over the music and the hum of the crowd.
The other guys, some with girls on their arms, turn and smile their greetings.
“Hi Dylan,” Janie says. “Who’s going to participate tonight, from the gym?”
“Let’s see…John, Brian, Scott, and Rico. Marco,” he explains, now looking at Elizabeth, “Is in the back with the guys. He’ll be out in a minute.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says smiling at him appreciatively.
“So how does all this,” Elsie asks sweeping her arm in the direction of the cage, “Work, who fights with who?”
There’s an edge of nervousness in her voice. When she heard that Rico was fighting, as well, she visualized John sitting on top of him back in the cage at the gym. He had his fist poised ready to smash his face in. Although the guy probably deserved it, she didn’t want to see John pummel him. And Rico would definitely ask for it.
“The fighters are matched up according to their weight class and their skill level,” Dylan begins. “So, someone who’s a medium weight, like Rico, won’t be paired up with someone in the heavyweight class, like John. They’ll go three rounds that are three minute each, if there isn’t a knockout.”
Dylan answers Elsie’s unasked questions relieving some of her anxiety.
The advantage of knowing John might be fighting Rico would be she’d know what to expect…maybe. Now, she has no idea who he’s going to be facing.
A new level of anxiety begins to rise in her. What if John’s matched up with someone who fights like Mike Tyson? He could get his ear bit off. And Brian’s beautiful face, could she stand watching someone pound it to a bloody pulp?
All of these scenarios run through her mind in seconds. Her emotions run the gamut from concern to relief to fear.
“I don’t know if I can watch, maybe I’ll wait in the lobby,” Elsie stammers, as apprehension starts to fill her.
“Don’t worry, it is Elsie, isn’t it?” Dylan says trying to calm her nerves.
“Yeah,” she answers him, worrying her lip.
“It’s only exhibition, things aren’t going to get out of hand,” he explains.
“It’s an exhibition of fighting, right?” she asks, pausing for a moment.
Dylan nods his head.
“So they’re going to be punching, kicking, doing all that stuff, right?” she continues with her hand on her hip, daring him to argue with
