The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (15 page)

              “Here’s to Amazon Banger Babe!” somebody shouted, and beer bottles went up in the air in a group toast. The sudden attention made her self-conscious and twitchy. Jared, a young Vaquero with devilish hazelnut eyes, maneuvered himself next to Quinn, flashed a winning smile at her and felt free to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

              “Easy boys, let’s not scare the new recruit.”

              Quinn wiggled out of his quick invasion of her personal space and scooted a few inches to the left. He shuffled too, eliminating the distance, and stuck out his hand for a shake.

              “I’m Jared.” Quinn took his hand and shook it timidly.

              “I’m–”

              “You’re Amazon Banger Babe.” His shake was vigorous. “Come on, let me feel the power that put Thor out of commission.”

              “Thor?! Boulder Banger is Thor?!”

              “Ha, that’s funny. Boulder Banger. Yeah, Thor’s his fight name. Just like Amazon Banger Babe is yours. His real name is Stuart,” Jared clarified. “Charlie here became Crowbar because when another gang stole his bike he went after them with a crowbar.”

              “Can my name be something else?” she asked.

              “What, you don’t like it?” Jared pulled an expression of mock hurt. “We kind of spontaneously came up with it.” The guys rumbled in disappointment.

              “No, no it’s fine. I like it, it’s just a bit…”

              “Flashy? Sure, you’re a heck of a fighter. Flaunt it, babe, it’s not every day somebody knocks down a guy the size of Thor. He’ll be in the infirmary for at least a couple of weeks.”

              That bit of information didn’t make Quinn feel better. She was not off to a good start making friends here. Jared read her worries.

              “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Sooner or later that junkyard of spare parts we call our body gives out on us. Besides, Thor has had it coming for a while. You don’t go joyriding down Steroids Street without some payback waiting for you at the end. Now, give us the goods on Amazon Banger Babe. Where did you learn to fight? How did they catch you? Did you go to jail? Oh man, I bet you beat up the guards and escaped. I can see it… dark night, just a sliver of moon in the cell. It is hot and stuffy… you’re drenched in sweat…”

              The Vaqueros whistled as Jared’s story painted a picture in their heads. Quinn turned bright red.

              “… you ask for water, the guard opens the cell and can’t peel his eyes off of you. Big mistake—BA BANG!—you nail him in two hits, grab the keys…”

              “Err, I didn’t go to jail.” Quinn was surprised how loud her voice sounded. The guys snapped out of their rapture with disappointed groans. She gave Jared a stern look.

              “Helluva storyteller you are, but nothing like that happened,” said Quinn.

              “It’s all about weaving the myth here, Babe. That’s why we’re Bangers. Nothing normal, nothing ordinary. We burn fast but we burn bright.”

              An exalted “Yeah!” filled the mess hall. Quinn watched these boys blaze with excitement and suddenly she felt comfortable, she felt she belonged. People came here to redefine their lives and there was no wrong way of doing it. She was quickly yanked out of her comfort zone when Scrap-Iron pressed the issue.

              “How come you’re so tough?” asked Scrap-Iron.

              “Yeah. Who taught you to fight like this?” asked Padre.

              Quinn had to come up with a story, a plausible one.

              “I got kicked out of school for running. My parents locked me up in the basement as a punishment. I found these ancient discs with old movies. Fight movies. So I started watching and copying the moves.”

              “That’s it?” challenged Padre. “No fight clubs?”

              Fight clubs, gangs…? Quinn was beginning to panic quietly. Her Neo-Spartan knowledge didn’t extend to the subtleties of the underground Eugenics world. “Er…” she said.

              Scrap-Iron studied her. “So what’s your story? You’re not exactly up front.”

              “Easy, let her settle in. Give it a couple days, you girls will be sharing secrets,” said Jared.

              “I didn’t know fight clubs,” her voice was pleading.

              Jared put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her nerves.

              “Of course you didn’t. They don’t exactly advertise. Running a fight club is considered government conspiracy. You get caught, you spend the rest of your life in jail.”

              “They threaten you with life imprisonment just because you want to do something physical. It’s outrageous. This is a basic right…” said Quinn.

              Quinn bit her lip. What was she doing?! This wasn’t the place for anti-government sentiments. She furtively looked around the room and relaxed as she saw the spirited faces of the Vaqueros and realized she was among like-minded people. What she didn’t notice was the shadow that sidled up behind the burlap partition, hungry to hear more.

              “You said it, Amazon B. If you want to knock yourself out running or fighting it should be up to you. Freedom to choose. But that’s not what they want. Physical is not good for our health. What they really mean is not good for their pocketbooks. We all know that a little bit of exercise puts off that organ transplant a little bit longer,” said Jared.

              Jared’s comment was greeted with cheers of approval. Quinn vigorously nodded.

              “And that seriously damages their profit margins. That’s all we are to them, dollar signs. To hell with that! People should do something,” said Quinn.

              When the cheering died down, the clapping of hands made everybody turn toward the entrance of the mess hall where Tyra was standing. “Bravo, Quinn.”

              She strutted with deliberation to where Quinn was. “Fancy yourself the leader of the oppressed, don’t you? You beat up one big guy and now you’re ready to beat up the system?” She put her heavy boot on Quinn’s crate. “Don’t wanna burst your revolutionary bubble, but as far as most of us are concerned this is party town. And one thing you don’t drag into party town is politics. I don’t care what you think; I don’t care what you believe in. All I care is that you keep this crap to yourself and haul your ass to the training arena.”

              She kicked the crate and Quinn had to jump to her feet to avoid wiping out on the floor. Tyra turned her nasty glare from Quinn to the rest of the Vaqueros. “ALL OF YOU!”

              They all shuffled out of the mess hall without a single disgruntled comment. Tyra had more power than Quinn had imagined.

* * *

              Quinn squared off with her partner in the Vaqueros’ training area. She was hammering her opponent, working out all of the frustration Tyra had caused her. Her movements were powerful but sloppy, all anger and no precision. Her partner got a few hits in, but her relentlessness quickly tired him and he moved off to the bench area. Quinn looked at Nico, who was carefully watching the sparring session. Tyra had draped herself all over him, whispering something in his ear. Nico didn’t mind the public display of attention; in fact, he seemed to enjoy the extra ornamentation his girlfriend was providing to his image. For Quinn, the sight of these two was acid to a cut, and she was more than eager to break up their saccharine conference. She marched to Nico.

              “Who’s my next partner?”

              Nico took in her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.

              “The bench.”

              “What?!”

              “You’re taking a break.”

              Was this a joke?! She had a bag full of issues to exorcise, and sitting on the bench, watching Tyra sleazing him up wasn’t going to be productive. She didn’t budge, forcing Nico to peek around her to see how the other fighters were doing.

              “I’m not tired. I can do some more sparring.”

              Nico was assessing her condition when Tyra cut in trying to swat Quinn away like some annoying bug.

              “He said you’re taking a break. You slow or something?”

              Quinn curled her fist and pictured it smashing Tyra’s teeth. No. No confrontation. She had to stay focused on Nico, show him she wanted to have fun, that’s what Magda had said.

              “Really, I do want to fight more. It’s fun.” She flashed her best enthusiastic smile to reinforce her words. Nico broke free from Tyra’s tentacles; Quinn’s enthusiasm had the reverse effect from what she thought it would.

              “Tone it down a bit, will ya? You got my attention, you’re in. But you can very quickly get out. When I say take a break, you take a break. Collapsed fighters are no good to me. Infirmary costs me money. Stuffing yourself with steroids and other endurance enhancement crap also puts you on a fast track exit. You’re gonna crash just like Thor… knocked down by a little girl…”

              He delivered his last words with a cool grin, drilling in the humiliation. Quinn’s cheeks burned. She wanted to flee and hide. Nico noticed the effect his insult had and regretted going so far. There was an immediacy and sincerity to Quinn’s reactions that he found refreshing. He didn’t know why she had been so anxious to join his gang or why she was so determined to prove herself, but he knew one thing—this girl was anything but duplicitous. He pushed her buttons a little more.

              “This time I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re obviously jacked up on something, but next time I see you acting like the Energizer Bunny I’ll kick your butt all the way to the Sanctuary walls.”

              His insults were slapping her in the face. Her sense of justice was badly bruised and before she could pull the reins on herself, Quinn erupted on him with unadulterated vehemence. “I’m not jacked up on anything; I don’t do steroids or any other crap. When I say I’m not tired that means I’m not tired. But maybe you don’t want to hear this because it just sucks to accept that some little girls have more stamina than you do, and kicking their butts all the way to the wall might be a bit more difficult than the bedroom gymnastics you’re used to performing.”

              Quinn wished she could swallow her last words, too late—the cat was out of the bag. Now it was Nico’s turn to have his ego incinerated. He strode to the center of the fight arena; the sparring pairs immediately took an exit, aware something unusual was developing. He stood there, his eyes flashing, his anger slicing the air between them. Quinn hesitated a moment, but there was no backing out of this. She followed him and they faced off.

              From the get go, Nico set the pace of the fight, a series of relentless punches and kicks designed to keep Quinn on the defensive and to move her around in an exhausting work-out. She responded to all of his attacks, fending them off, letting only an occasional hit find its target. This kept her anger and motivation at a high level. Nico noticed she got sucked into his rhythm and grinned on the inside. She would be out of breath and collapsing in the next three minutes. But Quinn kept up. She knew what he was doing and adapted to his speed and patterns. This would be deadly in a fight with another Neo-Spartan, but Quinn was confident she had at least as much endurance as Nico. He was unbelievably fit, but he was Eugenic, after all. Besides, she was lulling him with his own rhythm and when an opportunity presented itself she would switch to a different gear and take him by surprise.

              Sure enough, Nico settled into a predictable beat, his every move matched by a similar one from Quinn. Toned limbs went against toned limbs and the fight became a synchronized dance of wills. Nico’s mind calmed down as he emptied the anger and found himself detached, as if watching the fight from outside, enjoying it for its pure aesthetics. The girl was a perfect match, the ideal sparring partner; her attacks and defenses fit with his seamlessly. His body temperature rose, his heart beat quickened just the right amount and he felt alive, really alive. That was why he had come to the Sanctuary and started the Vaqueros. To forget about the inevitable end, to feel life pulsing through his veins.

              At the side of the fighting arena, Tyra had seen enough. The last hues of color drained from her face as she saw the light spring in Nico’s footing. But what gnawed at her dark heart was the ecstatic light with which his eyes shined. He had his vicious fight face on, but his eyes were smiling, and Nico almost never smiled. Brooding had taken permanent residence in those dark Latino eyes of his, and joy and ecstasy were rare guests. With all her artful skills, Tyra had never been able to bring that look to his eyes. And this damned girl had succeeded in less than five minutes. She turned her back to them and stalked away.

              Nobody noticed her exit. Nico was in the zone, relishing the perfect fight he was having. He completely forgot that he was to exhaust this girl and teach her a lesson. Quinn was caught in the moment too. For the first time, after so many training sessions with Kilbert and the rest of the Neo-Spartans, she was having fun. This wasn’t the exhausting, mandatory drill she had to perform every day after school. It was something else. It gave her a buzz. She felt strong and a little giddy, and she reluctantly pulled herself away from that sensation to break up the fluid dance of power, find an opening, and switch the game on Nico. Just as he came at her with a fast high punch, Quinn ducked low and rolled on the ground, completely throwing off his rhythm. He threw himself after her in an attempt to hammer her while on the ground, but she sprang up at the right moment, swept his feet from under him and pinned his prostrate body down with hers. He tried to throw her off, but she punched him in the face, not a knock-out but a strong enough punch to discourage him from fighting back. Nico groaned and remained flat on his back. The droplets of blood from his nose trickled to his lips. The taste of defeat? Strangely, no. He looked at Quinn sitting on top of him, smiling, savoring her victorious moment. She met his eyes and suddenly became aware of the awkward position she was in. She hurriedly moved off and busied herself with wiping the blood from his face.