American Assassins

Chapter 12: Kimberley

I swing my sword around landing it straight on Blake’s two knives.  He pushes me up and I grunt as he hits my chin.  I taste the blood from inside my cheek and growl.  “You’ll pay for that!” I screech charging towards him.  I swing my sword up but he deflects it with his knife.  He grunts before pushing me off him. 

                “Come on Kimberley, we’ve been through this before,” He grins, “I win some and you . . . lose some.”  He smirks.  I lift one side of my lip up and put my sword away.  I go to the weapons station and choose a bow and its matching arrows.  I load the bow pull it back to my cheek and aim for Blake who is surprised and jumps out of the way before the training arrow can reach him. 

                “No fair, we said nothing that shoots!”  He says getting up.  I put the bow down and decide to go with my knives.  I pull them out and swing them around myself. 

                Blake tries to deflect with his own knives but I’m too quick.  He leaps out of the way of a swipe and takes out a hatchet.  “Hasta LA vista!” He says in an accent.

                 “Bus two is here, all kids who are on bus two report to the front for loading.”  The speaker sounded.  Blake sighs and throws his hatchet to the side. Saved by the bell. “Well, I guess we’ll have to finish tonight?”

                “Guess so,” I say slapping my arms against my sides my.  We both laugh and he pushes me out of the way to get his bag.  I grab mine which is next to his and we both run out of the room.  

                Both of us race to the front, and, of course, he wins.  I was built for strength, Blake is quick and agile.  “Beat you again.”  He says cracking his knuckles.  He wears a plain, dark red T-shirt with blue-jeans.  He also wears a black coat to keep warm on this freezing Thursday.    

                I wear a long sleeved blue, plaid shirt with blue-jeans and brown combat boots.  I wear a black zip up sweater that says 2039 on it in white letters over top of my shirt. 

                I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him.  “So, I will beat you one day.”  I reassure him. 

                “Oh yah, like you said when I beat you in how many fights?”  He puts his hand up to his ear waiting for me to respond.  Instead I take his head and wrap my arm around it in a head lock.  He struggles to get free but I keep my arm wrapped around him and we both start laughing as he tries to pry my arm off him.  “Get off!”  He complains. 

                “Oh, and what did you just say?”  I ask him still laughing as we wait for the bus to pull up.  I soon release him.  He gasps for air, “Okay, okay.  We both have won in fights.”  I grin and pull at a nail on my finger. 

                “What have you guys done to each other this time?”  We turn and see Jason, his seventeen year old self.  He wears a simple black T-shirt with a Michigan sweatshirt.  He has on Blue jeans and Nike tennis shoes.  He carries his phone listening to music with one headphone in. He’s about five eight, same height as Blake only maybe a little taller.  I’m only five four.