Title: Mythic Voyage: Part One: Road Trippin'.

Author: Quew!

What’s it about?: Um, quite hard to explain, and I don’t think this half really clears it up. Basically, a women called Anne is relating her travels to you in first person. And she meets some people. And stuff.

Spoilers: None. This story is not directly related to any season of any show…not directly, anyway.

Disclaimers: Um, none, I think. I actually own all of these characters! Kind of.

Archive: My site. Anyone else, ask please, although I’m sure I won’t mind J

Feedback?: Definitely! Flames will be a) used to keep me warm at night or b) posted on the site. You have been warned.

Authors Note: My spelling is Awful. If you notice any glaring mistakes, please inform me. I’m kind of proud of this story though, so if you have any suggestions on what you think should be in the sequel (I did end it kind of abruptly because it was getting long, I thought) E-mail me. And I did get sort of type happy with the phrases ‘Kind of’ ‘Sort of’ ‘Hey’ and ‘Anyway.’ I just thought I would warn you. Oh, and sorry about the sarcasm at the beginning; I was in a bad mood when I started it. But I’m happy now!

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Hey there! Welcome to my show! Today, we'll be learning about all the things you always wonbdered about, but were too afraid to ask. Kidding. Back to the point. I am travelling, which, if you know me, you already know. Well, not you, here, now, because at the moment I’m speaking to tape recorder, dictator thingy, and I doubt very much if you, the non-living contraption of plastic and metal, know or care that I am travelling along the free-way at a high rate of knots. (Two things there, why is a tape recorder that records your voice called a dictator? It’s not like it enslaves your voice and tells it to do stuff it doesn’t want to do…well, really that is a kind of appropriate name, because in a way it is a dictator; it catches your voice and makes it do what it wants it to do in that it goes forward, backwards, quickly or slowly and it can be exterminated at a moments notice. And the other thing, can you move at a rate of knots in a car? Isn’t that like a nautical thing?)

Anyway, you may already have picked up on the fact that when I record my tapes, I have a tendency to follow my train of thought where-ever it may lead, and if it gets derailed, I call the emergency services and then jump into a cargo carriage of the next locomotive that comes along. But, you’ll be happy to know that I always have a point to my stories, and I always reach a conclusion of some kind or another one way or another. I’ll get there eventually, don’t you worry about me, just worry about dropping off before we get to the good stuff. So, I would advise you not to be driving when you’re listening to this…in fact, don’t even be sitting on a chair, or anything that you can fall off, fall under, crash or seriously injure yourself with.

I’m here to recount my travels to you, such as they are.

I’m bored, ok? And rambling away while you’re driving is a lot easier than scribbling worthless notes down on a piece of paper. I can’t abide diaries. Hate them with a passion, in fact, but it may have something to do with the fact that no-one can understand what I’ve written half the time because I invented a type of shorthand that no-one could understand but me, and it was working really well until I forgot how it worked too. And anyway, words are just words; with speech you can put feeling into your voice, you can have……………dramatic pauses and people can tell when you’re smiling so you can add jokes or sarcasm.

Believe me, I did have a point………

Ah yes! I remember. I was going to tell you what happened to me when I stopped at a town a little while ago in southern California, and why I’m now speeding away from the place on a desperate mission of sorts. Nice place, a little too perfect for my liking, but hey, discord can’t be everywhere. It had an abundance of graveyards, which I didn’t pick up on at first, because I drove into a tree.

Not the normal thing to do when you drive into a new town, I know, but a great way to make friends.

You see, there was a reason I had driven into the aforementioned tree, and she was leaning over me right now as I lolled from the drivers door and flopped onto the warm tarmac of the sidewalk.

‘Holy shit!’ She exclaimed. Not the first words you want to hear out of the mouth of the girl you want to make a good first impression on, but it’d do. ‘Are you ok?’

That was better, and I opened my mouth to say that I was fine and impress her with my not-feeling-pain abilities. What actually happened was I drooled a little. Over her boot. I would have happily forgiven her if she’d of kicked me in the face for that - they were really nice boots – but instead she looked worried and pulled a cell-phone out of her pocket. At least I think it was a cell-phone, I kind of passed out. (Yes, I know you can’t kind of pass out, but I’m not good with big words, ok? If I knew the official word for ‘Kind of passed out’ I’d use it, but I don’t)

The next thing I know, paramedics are hauling me onto a stretcher. My concussion addled brain is telling me to find the girl and ask her out, so that’s what I was trying to do, but the paramedics were trying to stop me. It was for my own good, of course, but try telling someone who’s got a case of head trauma inducing fuzziness upstairs that they can’t do something they want to do, and everything that gets in their way becomes pure evil personified.

‘Heeeeeeeeeeeey!’ I drawled, almost focusing on the lead medic, ‘Le’ me go, will ya?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am,’ She said, a friendly edge to her tone that infuriated me.

‘I am goin’ I said in a no nonsense tone, ‘And none of you guysh can sht…so…shtop me, ok?’ By this time they were pumping some drugor another into my system. ‘and who are yoo callin’ maa…am’am…ma’am, anyway? Call me Ah…Anne.’ I grinned lopsidly and winked hugely at…well, everyone. I was so gone that everyone looked good enough to wink at.

~####~

When I woke up, it wasn’t in a good way. My head felt like it had been used for a square-dance, and residual echoes of booted feet bounced around inside my skull. I groaned and tried to swallow, but my mouth was so dry I nearly sucked my teeth down my throat. (not really, of course, or I would have had to spend a lot of money on a good dentist, but that’s what it felt like)

The door to my room opened, but I couldn’t be bothered to open my eyes. I just sort of let my head lean toward the noise and went, ‘Uggggghhh.’ It was supposed to be hello.

‘I didn’t realise you were awake! I’m Nurse Johnson, and you are…?’

I finally managed to open an eye and I blinked hard to focus. Nurse Johnson was actually a nice looking woman of about thirty, and she had that cheery attitude exuding from her that nurses seem to be able to keep up all day. ‘Anne.’ I managed.

‘Well, you’re looking well this morning Anne, but how do you feel?’

‘Ummmmm…Pretty good actually.’ It was true, apart from some residual aches and pains, I felt fine.

‘Good, good. You know you were very lucky yesterday. You could have been hurt a lot worse.’

I agreed with her and nodded, trying to ignore that it felt like my brain was hitting the inside of my skull as I did so. ‘Um, do you know how badly my car was damaged?’ I asked as she fussed around my sheets.

‘No, but I do know that it’s at the local garage.’ She said, smiling at me. I thought she was going to give me a cookie and tell me I was very brave. Oh well.

‘When can I leave?’ I said, savouring my imaginary cookie.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She said, her face creasing up. She was one of those people that had very big emotions; what ever she said was accompanied by rubbery facial contortions or wildly thrown about hand gestures.

She bustled out and I took the opportunity to assess my injuries. I had a rather nasty gash across my left thigh and my leg felt a little weak as I put some weight on it from the bed; I found out later that the muscles and ligaments were bruised, or something; I wasn’t really listening. My face ached and I felt around until I found a stitched up cut above my right eyebrow. Great. Apart from a few scratches here and there, that was it; the Nurse was right, I was lucky. Moments later a doctor bustled in. She was a harassed looking woman of about forty-five who shone a light it both my eyes and pronounced me fit to leave.

Nurse Johnson clapped her hands in childish delight and exclaimed, ‘Well lets get you sorted shall we?’

I got out of my bed after a few false starts and she led to me to my clothes, the weakness of my leg giving me quite a pronounced limp. I felt very strange walking through the hospital; I had never seen so many sick people in one place before, and in a way I was beginning to understand Nurse Johnson’s’ attitude…perhaps you had to be larger than life to withstand the constant loss of it.

The other thing that struck me was the amount of unconscious patients; I am not very knowledgeable about these places, but as I understand it, you had wards dedicated to sick people, wards dedicated to injured people, wards dedicated to…ah well, you get my meaning. But it seemed that all the wards were full of pale, pasty unconscious people. I asked Nurse Johnson about it and she just gave me a bright smile and said, ‘We’ve had a lot of viruses lately.’

I know this will sound selfish, but that hospital gown was so revealing I was kind of glad more patients weren’t gawking at me as we made our way through sterile halls and past disturbingly quiet wards. We were nearly at the laundry room when we had to make way for a bed being wheeled through in the opposite direction.

We heard it coming long before we saw it; the girl on the bed was screaming her guts out, and fighting against her restraints so hard that the gurney rocked underneath. This created a horrible mixture of sound that assaulted my ears and went for a low blow right in my stomach, twisting my own guts round until I felt like screaming in sympathy for her.

I watched as Nurse Johnson’s eyes sort of glazed over as the screams approached. She just stood there calmly, hands by her sides as they drew near. I was trying desperately to stop myself pushing against the wall; the girl couldn’t help being how she was.

Suddenly, as they were almost past us, she snapped one of her wrist restraints, her arm snaking out and grabbing the first thing it could; the front of my hospital gown. She pulled me down onto the bed, staring at me with these huge, fragile, tear filled eyes and I wasn’t scared anymore.

She worked her mouth desperately and I, despite the orderlies and nurses trying to pull me free, pushed them off and got closer to her face. I remember one of them screaming something about biting, but I didn’t care.

‘You…have…to …he…help…me.’ She said with difficulty, and I reached up and squeezed the hand on the front of my gown, as much to give her comfort as I did to stop the orderlies prying her fingers off. ‘Find…Her. Help her…I was too weak…they won’t stop…it’s taking too much strength,’ She started to cry, huge, body wracking sobs. I felt my eyes fill up, ‘I can’t…fight it much longer!’ She choked out desperatly, ‘you have to help me… you can do it!’

I could do nothing but nod and at that time the staff finally succeeded in getting past us both to pump her up to the eyeballs with sedative. I was pulled away and I watched the bed be hastily wheeled towards it’s destination.

When I turned, Johnson was watching me with what appeared to be rage on her features. My mouth fell open and she covered it quickly, but I couldn’t shake my new-found feeling of something being wrong.

A little while later, I was dressed once again in my disgustingly baggy jeans, my baggy jumper and my sturdy, scuffed boots. I was beginning to feel like my old self again, and the incident in the hospital was receding back into the dark halls of memory. I think Nurse Johnson sensed that because she was suddenly all smiles again, and I asked her politely if she knew where the garage was. She said no, but she went to find an orderly that did…and this time she bought me back a real cookie.

‘The kitchen are handing them out,’ she said cheerfully, ‘they are leftovers, I hope you don’t mind.’ I would have replied that no, indeed I did not mind, but my mouth was full of cookie goodness.

She just looked at me and smiled, chuckling as the orderly she had found came in. ‘here’s the address.’ He said. He smiled at me and then shot a nervous look at the Nurse. I slipped the paper in with all the other crap in my pockets and finally left the room, Nurse Johnson giving me directions to the front exit. I hadn’t noticed before, but I was on the second or third floor of a tall building, exceptionally tall for a hospital. As I stepped into the elevator, I noticed the elevator went to twelve floors, including the underground parking lot. I pushed the button for the ground floor and waited for the feeling like my stomach was leaving through my toes. Man I love that.

As I was leaving, I cast a glance back at the tall building, but I refused to let my mind contemplate that anything was wrong. I shouldn’t watch so many teen horror flicks, I reminded myself, nothing is wrong, this is a perfectly normal small town.

I was feeling pretty good as I wandered around in the sun, pulling my battered sunglasses out of my pocket and smiling at the people that I passed. I window shopped a little and stopped for a meal in a local diner; I didn’t realise how hungry I was until the food, swimming in grease of course, was placed in front of me.

When I had finished, I ordered a cup of coffee to go and stared absently outside as the waitress, who incidentally had been giving me looks all the time I had been there, was pouring it and sorting out my money. Collecting my coffee and sharing a last smile with the girl, I wandered outside.

The sunshine was making me feel all warm and if I had been sitting down somewhere, it was the kind of sunshine that would have had me dozing by now. Consequently, I really didn’t notice when my ambling turned a little aimless, and only when I looked up to check the street name did I notice that I was really quite lost. One thing I should probably recount is that despite the fact I travel a lot, I have a horrible habit of getting lost.

A horrible, horrible habit. Well, second behind the occasional cigarette.

‘Are you lost?’ Someone asked.

I had been turning in concentric circles on the spot for about five minutes, so yeah, either that or I was crazy. I nearly said as much but when I finished my latest circle, the girl behind me looked disturbingly familiar. ‘Yeah, actually.’ I said, a little sheepishly, ‘I’m looking for the Lucky Garage. Any idea?’ I waved a hand questioningly in loads of directions and she started laughing.

‘It’s right over the other side of town,’ She chuckled. ‘I can show you how to get there if you want.’

‘That’s be great.’ I smiled, deciding to turn on the charm. Hey, I can be very charming, believe it or not. ‘I’m Anne.’ And I was feverishly trying to downplay my limp.

‘Helen,’ Helen said, tossing her long blonde hair over one shoulder. I took a moment to eye her up and down as we started to walk back the way I had come. She had long, golden blonde hair, deep green eyes and an open, friendly face. She was wearing a heavy jean jacket and a tank top underneath, with some pretty tight fitting trousers and a nice…pair…of…oh no.

That’s right, boys and girl, I recognised those boots, recognised them because I’d left a lovely deposit of saliva on them not twenty hours ago.

‘Oh my…’ I stopped myself swearing and managed to keep moving before she thought anything was wrong, quickly making sure my hair was hiding the stitches on my face. Please don’t recognise me, please don’t recognise me, please don’t recognise me, please don’t…

‘Hey, you’re the girl who was in the accident, aren’t you?’ She asked, suddenly putting two and two together with my injuries.

I stopped trying to hide the limp and shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. ‘Yeah,’ I admitted, staring at the pavement. ‘Sorry about the shoe thing.’ I added, waving a hand in the direction of her boots.

The girl laughed a little, but once she saw how embarrassed I was, she rallied with, ‘Oh, I didn’t think you had recognised me.’

Truth was, I hadn’t until I’d seen the boots, but given time I would have. Looking across at her, I wondered how I hadn’t recognised her straight away. ‘Um, yeah. Thanks for phoning the ambulance. I really appreciate that. I’m just going to pick up the car now.’

‘Really? You know I didn’t think they would let you out until at least the end of the week, you looked pretty bad…well, I don’t mean you look pretty bad, you look pretty good, but I meant your injuries, they looked pretty bad, um.’

And I thought I was the one who was most likely to babble. I sort of started laughing actually, out of nervousness, looking at her and chuckling. As I caught her eye, she started to look as thought she found it funny, then she started chuckling, as soon we were both outright bawling with laughter as we walked. She was leaning into me, holding onto my arm, you know, how you do when you’re walking and laughing with someone, and as we calmed down she realised she was doing it and extricated herself as we got our breath back.

‘I’m sorry.’ She said, ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’

‘Sorry for what?’ I asked, taking off my sunglasses, ‘I don’t mind if you don’t.’

She sort of smiled and looked at the floor, and then looked up and said: ‘We’re here.’

I looked up, and sure enough the big fluorescent sign for the ‘Lucky Garage’ hung right above my head. ‘Look, Helen…’ I began, ‘I know you’re probably thinking I’m crazy, but could I borrow a few more minutes of your time?’

She looked interested, which I took as a good sign. ‘Um, sure.’ She said, ‘What for?’

‘I have to find some place to stay, and I was wondering if there are any good places to go at night around here?’ I asked, knowing full well there was at least one club in the town, because I had past it on the way in.

‘I would love too, really…’ Uh oh …‘But I’m busy tonight. I’m free during the day tomorrow, though, if you’d like to do something? And no, there isn’t really anywhere to go. In fact, there isn’t really anything to do once the sun goes down, period. If I were you I’d just stay in.’

I hocked an eyebrow up toward the sky; I couldn’t help it, I managed to deflect the weird look though.

‘Yeah, that’d be great.’ Hey, just because she lied to me about the club didn’t mean I was about to let her go. ‘Shall I meet you here around lunchtime?’

‘Perfect,’ She enthused.

She started to walk off, but I stopped her as a thought hit me. ‘Can I give you a ride?’

‘Yeah. If you don’t mind.’ She added, a smile playing on her lips.

‘Of course not.’ I smiled back, resisting the urge to play with my collar; it suddenly seemed several sizes too small.

We went in to get my car, and to my relief, it wasn’t badly damaged at all, and all my stuff was still there. Even my licence and important stuff, hidden in a secret compartment under one of the back seats. I was suddenly loath to let her get in, because it was such a mess, clothes and books and paper littered everywhere. I picked up an armload of crap from the passenger seat and dumped it in the back, lifting my tape player carefully off the dashboard and checking to see if it had been damaged. Apart from a few scratches, it hadn’t been.

She slid onto the seat and I hopped in after clearing the money issue with the garage guys. When I got in, she had picked up a book that I had missed on her seat, and she was leafing through it. ‘I never would have pegged you as a Pratchett girl,’ she said.

‘Oh no, I love Terry.’ I said, ‘Him and me go waaaaay back.’ I crossed two fingers and held them up and she giggled.

‘You do know he’s English, right?’ She said as I backed out of the parking lot.

‘Really? He told me he was from New York. I tell ya, the things people will say to get you into bed these days.’ I pulled my mock ‘ummmmmm hmmmm’ face and she looked at me and then burst out laughing. I told you I could be charming, it’s just a certain kind of charm, one that requires long hours of absolutely no practice at anything at all. It seems to work.

Sooner than I had hoped we were saying goodbye, and I watched her walk away, slowly turning the old car around and purring up the small streets to where the motel was. I booked a cheap room and noted that the sun was nearly down. I decided that the club was definitely on the menu tonight, despite her weird non-almost-sort of warning about going out after dark.

#

Everyone has a dark side, right? Some just hide it better than others, but damn! For a small town club, there were enough Darth Vaders in here to crush the Rebellion. Easy. The dancing was…eye-catching, to say the least, and as the dance floor was the first thing I saw when I walked in, my jaw hit the floor.

I had started to feel a little trepidation as I approached the place; the usual assortment of tough guys were hanging around outside, but if anything they seemed more loud mouthed and uncouth than usual. There were what looked like a bunch of junkies, and a couple necking. I just let my limp go a little and they stopped; It’s basic common sense, if you’ve got an injury like that and you’re walking like you crushed the guy who did it, they’ll leave you alone...hopefully. Thankfully it worked this time, but just in case I kept my arms loose; I knew a little karate that my Dad had made me take when I was younger, and mixed with a little normal fighting I'd learned on my travels, it was enough, although I'm the first to say I'm only average at it.

Once inside, I was blown away by the bad side of human culture being represented…but I stayed. Hey, like I said, everyone has a dark side, and mine was breaking a chair over the head of the bad feelings I had about this place. Moving quickly out of the doorway, I made it to the bar without a major incident. When I finally got served – and they didn’t ask for I.D, but I don’t think they asked anyone – I settled down in a corner to get my bearings.

I’ve noticed at these places that you get types of people, three or four definite groups. One, the centres of attention; the name says it all, really. They’ll dance all night if possible, doing the most provocative and eye catching dances they can think up. Two, socialites; found around the bars and tables, popular, chatty and the bulk of the groups. Three, the knots of people who sit in the corners and snipe at the other two, cynical and sarcastic. And, of course, four, lone wolves, the people who sit on their own and people-watch or just sit. This, at the moment, was my group, and I call them lone wolves because the alternative would be something like loner, which might not apply to all of them.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah. I was sat in the corner watching the world go by when a flash of colour caught my eye, drawing it to the dance floor. Well, there were lots of flashes of colour on the dance floor and any one of them could have caught my eye, but I was using it as an expression, meaning what I saw was a part of the colour, it was just the colour that had drawn my eye in the first place. Ugggggggh, I have got to stop rambling!

What actually caught my eye was – surprise surprise! – Helen. Yes, the very person who had warned me off going out after the sun had gone down was flaunting all on the dance floor. Wow, I tell you, you don’t see dances like that everyday, and I was becoming increasingly jealous of the guy she was dancing with.

Never mind dancing with him, she was practically dancing ON him. He was lapping it up, his eyes wide and his movements crude and very overbearing; if that was me, I probably would have hit him by now. Of course, right then and there I would not have been able to do anything because I was transfixed; paralysed by the show I was privy to. I slowly put down my beer, vaguely aware that I had spilt it all down my wrist in my shock, and consciously closed my mouth. The little voice in my head telling me something was wrong was getting louder, and I was inclined to agree. There was something wrong because he was there and I wasn’t.

I was working up the courage to ask to cut in, and it was taking a long time because I was already feeling wholly overwhelmed by the club culture. My eyes had not left them. I saw his movements lean toward violent, and still she drove him on. I think the last straw came when he grabbed her arm and started pulling her roughly toward the exit, and she seemed to be quite happy to go along with him, if a little too happy. I started thinking that maybe she was drunk.

I was pumped up full of adrenaline from the music and the atmosphere, and I was walking after them before my brain had even processed that they had left. Oh, come on, we’ve all seen this kind of scene in the movies where the unwitting woman is taken outside and then the dashing hero steps in just before it gets ugly. Well, I guess you could say I wanted to be the dashing hero. Nothing wrong with that, except Helen hadn’t struck me as the naive girl to be taken advantage of.

Tapping my fingers on my forearm, I left the exit quietly; slamming the door wouldn’t exactly do wonders for the surprise value I needed to pull this off. I became intensely aware that he had looked to be a big man, and that if he turned nasty there was a hell of a chance that I could be getting myself in some danger. If, and that was a big if, I could take him by surprise, I might have a chance; my karate-street-fighting-methods might work, if, like I said, I could catch him by surprise…and kick him the balls before he could react. Still, it left danger being a big factor intact.

Or it would have been a factor, if they hadn’t disappeared. It was one of those alleys with smoke pouring out from somewhere, although you’re never really sure where, and lots of dumpsters and fire escapes.

I heard a muffled noise coming from the end of the alley leading away from the road, but I couldn’t see what had caused it as my vision was impaired by smoke and shadows, affording me litle view. Trying to stick to the shadows and skirting round dumpsters, I made my way as stealthily as I could. As I proceeded, shapes coalesced out of the murk, and I didn’t like the way the figures were positioned as they became discernible.

How can I put this? Um, the guy was groping her, and I mean really groping her, and I saw the first signs of her rebellion against him. Unfortunately, he did not respond well to her trying to push away, pushing her roughly back into a dumpster and then smothering her with his body as he let his hands roam free. I kept my cool as long as I could, but eventually I gave up trying to sneak and stood, walking up behind him and pulling him away from her. Before he could react, my hand was round his throat and I didn’t let him catch his balance before pushing him cruelly backward over a dumpster opposite.

‘That was really dumb,’ I snarled, getting ready to punch him in the guts as he looked like he was about to struggle. Before I could, though, something strange happened.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Helen hissed, pulling me away. ‘This is dangerous! Get out of here!’

‘What the hell am I doing?!’ I shouted, too incensed to think of something to follow that up with. I kept half an eye on the man, and as I was pulled away I saw him rising. Turning, I put my boot squarely between his legs and he crumpled in his own little island of pain. ‘I thought you were in trouble!’ I yelled.

‘Keep your voice down!’ Helen whispered, grabbing my forearm and glaring at me fiercely, ‘You’re going to get us both in more trouble than you can imagine!’

As we were exchanging pleasantries, I saw the guy rise. Shirking out of Helen’s grasp, I turned on him, throwing both my hands up exasperatedly. ‘What? Have you got balls of steel buddy?’ I gasped, readying myself for another toe punt. ‘I don’t think you’re as much of a hit with the ladies as you like to think if you can come through that unscathed.’

Helen was just standing there, amazed that I was being so brazen, I think, and I brought my foot back, flinging It forward with as much power as I could muster. Unfortunately for me, it was my bad leg. And it suffered a very nasty jolt as it was stopped dead by the guy. He didn’t even flinch as he held my foot in-between his hands, and before I could react he had twisted it harshly, sending me into a tight spin that culminated with me face down in the dirt.

I was so shocked that for a moment I didn’t even feel the pain, until I tried to stand. It was excruciating; blinding shocks of pain that jolted through my damaged muscles and sent me into localised spasms of agony. I stood, lurching forward like a really pissed Frankenstein, but before I could swing at him I was brought crashing back down out of my anger by a sight.

My god, his face. It looked like…like…I don’t what it looked like, but it stopped me dead and filled me with the type of fear that only people in mortal danger and really good actresses can pull off.

He advanced on Helen, and something inside me clicked. I don’t know what it was and I don’t really remember much for a few seconds because my cerebral cortex was in meltdown, but I do remember planting myself awkwardly in his path. You see, Helen was tall, but she didn’t give the impression that she could take on a…whatever the hell he was and win. I had broader shoulders than she did, wider thighs; basically I was bigger built, and I guess I gave the impression that I wasn’t going to win but he might regret it anyway.

So you can see why I was shocked when she tried to push me unceremoniously out of the way.

‘What the fuck…?’ I spluttered over my shoulder as he advanced. ‘I’m trying to help here!’

‘Just stay down and out of the way!’ She said to me, her tone full of command.

‘I’ll be damned if I do!’ I hissed back, ‘He’s gonna cream you! At least I stand a chance!’

Suddenly I realised I hadn’t being paying attention where I should have been focusing it, and the guy was nearly on top of us. I span and delivered an awkward kick at his knee, and as he stumbled I used my good leg to flick a hard boot at his chin. Quickly, I turned back to her, thinking that we had a few minutes to run.

‘C’mon!’ I yelled, trying to pull her away. But she wouldn’t budge.

‘Either you duck and cover now, or you get hurt!’ She growled at me, and I had to say that condescending tone of hers was not doing wonders for my ability to do as she said. In fact, I found it galling to the extreme and I was getting as angry with her as I was with him.

I had a moment of reflection, wondering why she wouldn’t just go and hide somewhere or why we couldn’t just run now. Why was she being so damn stubborn!!??

‘Why are you being so damn stubborn!?’ She said, rolling long lashes imploringly up at the sky, ‘Just get out of my way, will you!’

I heard a growl behind me, strangely animal like in it’s tone, and I realised the guy had recovered already; he had to be superhuman!

‘Look, I’m beginning to realise we’re not dealing with Joe regular here,’ I said, speaking very low and very, very quickly. ‘But I am not going to let you go up against him. I’m not going to let him hurt you.’

For a moment, her eyes told me she understood, and that she was grateful, but then business took over. Without any preamble she hooked the back of my bad knee and pulled it out from under me, sending me crashing into a dumpster and sprawling in the muck. I had the sensation of a body filling the space I had just left as I fell, and I realised with shock that the guy had leapt for me just as I had fallen, meaning he was on course for her.

Twisting as quickly as I could when I landed, I saw him fly through the air toward her, and my throat constricted as I shouted a soundless warning. I needn’t of bothered.

She ducked as he came at her, forcing him to roll over her shoulder and land heavily on the dirt. He didn’t seem to notice, flipping upright and charging her once more. She met him head on this time, and I had the most surreal moment of my life. I don’t know if already described what she is wearing to you, but if I didn’t she is wearing the tightest leather skirt I have ever seen – slit to the hilt – a tiny, tiny top with a matching tiny, tiny jacket and high heels, so now you see another factor in why I was a little apprehensive about letting her fight.

Anyway, there she was, this petit disco queen fighting a six foot tall thing…and winning. I couldn’t believe it.

She was kicking his ass six ways from Sunday.

The staccato rhythm of her tiny heels verses his thick soled earth munchers was drilling into my mind as they danced around each other, smoke trailing like fumes behind them as they disturbed it in it’s quest to join the ever growing holes in our ozone layer. She ducked a particularly vicious punch and slammed her fist into his side, making him lose his footing and tumble to the ground.

She stood over him as he struggled to rise, one foot firmly in the centre of his chest. She slipped a hand inside the tiny jacket and pulled out a long, sharp object. I opened my mouth to object as it became clear what her objective was – to plunge it into him – but before I could she had let fly, burying it fully five inches in his chest.

I gasped and felt horrified as he bucked in pain, little helpless mews pouring from his mouth as he fitted on the concrete. Pulling myself upright, I fought the urge to vomit even as he stopped fitting, stopped mewling, and lay perfectly still. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, not even when she came over to me. Then, boiling over like water, I felt indignation for the guy eat away at my shock, controlling me so that I literally picked her up by her collar. I have never been weak, and she was definitely not large, but never in a million years should I have been able to lift her up as I high as I did right there.

‘You killed him!’ I accused, ‘You fucking killed him!’

‘I didn’t!’ She gasped, and I could not, could NOT believe that a comment that blatantly stupid had erupted from her mouth.

I looked at her then him, him then her and then shook her slightly. ‘You look at him down there and tell me again how you didn’t kill him!’ I raged, my eyes alighting on the body once again. She had her hands on my upper arms, taunt with the strength needed to keep her there, and she didn’t say anything, just hung there like a rag doll. I was aware that she could have beaten me as easily as she beat that man up, but at that moment I was very far from caring.

As I watched the body, I noticed that he seemed smaller that he had seemed standing up. Very much smaller, in fact. My mouth dropped open as I realised he no longer had any legs or any arms before the elbows. His body was disappearing! Even as I watched it continued to degrade slowly, pieces flaking off and flowing up, becoming part of the blue grey smoke as it drifted away. I felt her weight shift slowly in my hands as she leaned forward to whisper, ‘I didn’t kill him…’

All that was left of him was his head, and the odd weapon that she had used on him was lying forlornly in a puddle where his torso had been.

… ‘Because he was already dead.’ She finished. It was at that moment that I realised the odd weapon she had used…

…was a stake.