Catharsis (Book 2): Catalyst (14 page)

            "You're a cheater, Ren," I yell over the pounding music coming from the computer’s speakers.  "A cheater, and you won't win."

            He stops firing once he realizes I'm safely behind a pillar and hidden from him.  The gun clicks to a stop, and I peek around the edge of the barrier to see him getting back to a standing position. 

           
Is he going to try and make another run for it?

            Pulling out several more of the erasers, I throw them as hard as I can while still focusing on keeping them as accurate as possible.  I want to hit the top corners of his wings and try to either bend them or pierce them.  That should give him a reason to get down and under cover again instead of running.

            My aim is true.  The first two hit the cardboard with enough of an impact to punch clean through it and out the other side.  Two small dark holes appear in the top corner of the nearest of his two shields.  The third and fourth hit with small but powerful
THUCKS
.  They don't damage the cardboard structure, but I'm sure they got his attention.

            Groaning slightly, I rotate my arm and try to loosen my shoulder joint.  Throwing those little things with so much power is tough on my tendons.  They are already screaming with resistance.  Throwing them around normally might be a little painful, but it isn’t usually debilitating.  Throwing them hard enough to puncture Ren's homemade shield, though, is another matter.  I'm not sure how many more of those I have in me.

            "Ouch!"  Ren yells from his hiding spot behind the pillar (He fell and scooted while I was loosening my shoulder.). 

            "What hurts Ren?" I holler back.  "My calling you out on being a dirty, little cheater or those holes I just busted in your little fairy wings?"

            "Fairy?  Really Cat?  That's not necessary."  He doesn’t yell it at me, but I can still pick out his words over the screech of the music.

            I stare around the corner at him angrily, and shout, "That's not what I meant, Ren, and you know it."  And as soon as I do, his gun pops out from behind the punctured shield and starts spitting little bb's at me.

            I duck back before they can connect and listen to him laugh.  "I know," he tells me.  "But I thought it might get you to show your head.  It worked, didn't it?"

            Shaking my head but smiling at the same time, I chuckle and yell, "Sometimes you can play really dirty Mr. Renfield.  Do you know that?"

            "Yup.  I know," he tells me through a grin I can't see but can definitely hear.  "But I need every advantage I can get in this match up.  You're super powered, and I'm underpowered.  Strategy, whether it's based in deceit or not, will be the deciding factor."

            If strategy is what he's wanting, then that's what I'll try and give him.  Mine might not be as underhanded as his is, but I think it'll still be enough to get me to that wall first.  And what better strategic starting point than the ol' "distract and run technique"?

            "Hey Renny," I say without raising my voice (I want to get him leaning forward as much as possible.).  "You know what?" 

Without turning or peeking my head out from around my protective pillar, I can hear him moving to get a better position.  I just can't tell exactly what he's doing.  I'm sure he's already working up his next dirty trick, so I have to beat him to it.

            Pulling out a small handful of my pebble-like ammunition, I exhale quickly and whip my arm towards where I know he had been sitting and open my fingers.  As soon as I hear the rubber bullets start bouncing off the ground, I step out from behind the pillar and sprint towards the next nearest one.  Looking towards Ren's eraser-ridden hidey hole, I notice the spot where I'd just launched my salvo of pencil-toppers is empty. 

           
What the?  Where'd he go?
  The thought hits my brain just as the sound of the automated pops of Ren's gun firing hits my ears.

            Somehow he had managed to maneuver himself behind one of our few couches without me hearing him (an impressive feat even when I'm distracted), and then set himself up with a perfect line of sight to cut me off as I run.  And instead of firing behind me and chasing me as I go (As they normally do in every great action movie!), his wall of bullets is in front of me and moving in my direction.  He's not only cut off my route, but he's also set me up to run right into his trap.  I have too much momentum to just stop dead (Not that I want to even include retreat as an option.), so I opt to instead move forward and through it. 

            Jumping and planting my feet as firmly on the ground as I can, I launch myself up and through the air that is thick with plastic rain.  There is no way to dodge them - there are too many of them and they are moving too fast - but I can at least make myself a smaller target.  Turning myself in the air so that only my side is exposed to the barrage as I pass through, I minimize the amount of damage he is able to inflict on me.  The bb's pelt my exposed arm and lower leg and send searing tears of pain shooting up my nerve endings with each impact (Stupid comfortable clothes choice!  I should have been doing this in long pants and a woolen sweater.).  The sensation is blindingly awful, and it rips my focus away from what I'm doing and causes my well-orchestrated spin to become an un-choreographed tumble.  I go from a nimble ballerina-ninja to a carelessly tossed ragdoll in less than a second.

            The impact as I crash back down on the cracked linoleum floor of the warehouse knocks the wind out of me with a tear-inducing
whoosh
.  I've been shot before when we play, but it's never felt like this.  It's typically a bit painful and can be bothersome and will get my attention, but not to the point where it consumes my concentration.  Something is different this time.  Ren has changed the game again.

            Crab-crawling on my back and elbows the last few feet to safety, I curl up and focus my energy on healing the pockmarks that have been chipped into my skin.  It only takes a moment to accomplish, but it's a diversion I've never had to worry about before when playing.

            "Did you like that?"  Ren asks over the sound of another distracting guitar riff and my own heavy breathing.  "That was another one of my little surprises I had planned to see how well you would adjust in battle.  Hurt, don't they?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

            "Yes, they do," I answer in between gasped breaths as I watch my skin knit itself closed before my eyes.  Raising my voice so that he can hear me, I yell, "Very effective.  What are they?  What new little toy did you find to spend our money on now?"

            The comment is meant to unsettle and distract him.  Strategy, remember?  Personally, I could care less about the money.  As long as it's not being spent by the drug lords slinging poison on the street, then I could really care less what happens with it.  I don't need much of it except to help finance Ren and this warehouse.  I honestly have no idea what he does with the rest of the money I take.  I assume he's investing it or giving it to charity.  Or maybe buying lottery tickets.  But I doubt that.  He's too good at heart.  He feels guilty enough about the money being "mine" since I'm the one doing the hard work, but I tell him I couldn't do what I do without his help, so it's just as much his as mine.  He takes it, but the thought of that money never seems to sit right with him.  That's the drawback to having such a clean conscious and good heart.

            "Ha!  Nice try, Kitten," he says throwing my own strategy back at me.  "No new expensive 'toy', just an investment in science.  I purchased some hydrochloric acid and soaked all the pellets I had in it.  They’re coated in the stuff."

            "Uhm, ok.  So?"  I'd heard of the stuff from back when I was in chemistry last year before having to leave school (I actually liked the class, too.  One of the few subjects I really miss.), but I couldn't remember what exactly it did.  I seem to remember it being pretty dangerous.  "What's that do?"

            As we banter back and forth, I peek around my pillar to get a view of where he's hiding.  He's not hiding.  He's out in the open.  Well, the relative open, at least.  He's squatting on the ground behind his wings with two guns poking out the sides of his little makeshift fort.  I don't think he can currently shoot at me without moving an arm and exposing his body, but at the same time he is pretty well protected from anything I can send his way.  It might be possible to send another eraser
through
his shields, but I'd rather not take that path.  For one, I don't actually want to hurt Ren.  He may cheat, but he's only doing it to make me better.  My enemy won't care about following set rules, and I need to get used to that.  And two, I don't want to hurt my shoulder trying to throw that hard again.  And then an idea comes to me.  There's an overturned table laying a few feet behind him.  A fortuitously placed table.

            The blaring music suddenly stops.  It’s a relief to not have to focus so hard on Ren’s words when he speaks, but I had mostly forgotten it was even playing.  Once I got past the initial shock of it, I think it became a bigger distraction to Ren than to me.  There’s a good chance he picked up on that and killed it by choice.  Now I just have to be wary in case he remotely activates it again. 
Sneaky little fella,
I think as I embrace the new silence.

            "Well for starters, Cat," he explains to me slowly but happily in a lower voice.  "They hurt.  A lot.  In the past when I've shot you and broken your skin, you've been able to shrug it off.  No big deal.  A little bump, a small bruise maybe a cut, and you just ignore it and keep on firing those abominable little erasers at me.  My shooting was a nuisance, but it didn't really get your attention.  But not now. 

“Now that microscopic little coating I've put on them will slap you awake and make sure you focus on what's coming at you.  When that little bit of acid gets in your bloodstream, it's an immediate wake up call to your senses.  Physically you
can
take a shot from my guns, but mentally you won't
want
to.  And you'll start planning better so that you can avoid it."

            "How sweet of you Renny," I taunt him.  "I guess you've just had my best interests at heart all along.  Thank you."

            As I watch his smiling eyes pop up over the top of his left-hand shield, my plan finishes taking shape.  He's right, though.  I
really
don't want to get hit by those things again.  The thinking behind that tactic was certainly sound.

            "You're welcome, Cat," he tells me, and I can sense his hawk-like eyes following my every movement.  "It was for your own good.  To make you better.  And smarter."  His eyes narrow as he watches me looking around the room.  "And I know what you're trying to do.  It won't work.  I've kept all parts of myself from being exposed, and I'm doubled up on my shield back here.  You might have pierced one layer, but you won't have enough energy for two."

            "Well, you're right about that, Renny.  I know I won't be able to get
through
your shield," I say and drop into a squat to coil my legs beneath me for a jump.  "So I'm going to have to go
around
it."

            Pushing off the ground, I go straight up into the air about half a dozen feet until the table behind Ren comes fully into view.  Then calculating the angle I need for what I want to happen, I rapid fire a volley of erasers at it until several dozen are flying through the air at once.  They whip past where Ren has barricaded himself and ricochet off the table behind him.  My aim and trajectory may not be perfect, but they are effective.

            Ren's exposed back side is pelted with the erasers as they rebound off the table and into is unshielded butt and spine.  He yelps in pain and surprise and stands up to avoid the rest of the ones I had thrown (Having to bounce them off an object and then into Ren means they lost a lot of their velocity and power.  The surprise I'm sure is genuine, but I doubt they hurt.).  Standing up, he turns to block them with his shield.  A futile effort that now gives me a perfect view of an unprotected opponent.

            Quickly taking advantage of it, I throw an entire handful of erasers at Ren like a shotgun blast and watch as they smack into the small of his back and cause him to stumble forward from the blow.  Not exactly the result I had expected, but much more effective than I had planned.  I had just hoped to distract and irritate.  Being able to possibly incapacitate is just a bonus.

            As soon as my sneakers hit the hard floor, I take off sprinting for the far wall.  I may not have much of a lead, but I'll take whatever I can get before he starts shooting at me again.  Clearing several dozen yards in a furious sprint, I get to within thirty feet of my intended target when I hear the muted double whir of Ren's guns kick in. 

           
Good timing
, I think. 
You've caught me between a pillar and a hard place.
  With the wall being in such close range of my being able to touch it, I wasn't thinking about protecting myself.  Only getting there first.  And now I'm left out in the open with nothing between me and my goal aside from empty space.  Unfortunately, there's also very little between Ren behind me and myself aside from a very wide open area in which he can try and shoot me.  And he will.

            I can either retreat and try to get to cover or suck it up, pull on the big girl britches and fight through whatever pain is coming.  Tough choice and both have their merits.

            But only one of them doesn't feel like retreating and will give me a strong chance of beating Ren at a game he clearly feels he has the upper hand in.  And I'm tired of opponents thinking they can beat me.  No more.  I'm.  Going. To. Win.

            Instead of bracing myself for the hail of biting impacts I know are coming my way, I decide to minimize his chances of hitting me.  Assuming he's aiming high for my sensitive neck, back and arms, I drop into a forward roll once I sense the plastic storm approaching and let the wave wash harmlessly over the top of me.  But this won't buy me much time, he'll compensate as soon as he realizes what I'm doing and he'll aim lower and skip the shots off the ground to hit me (Plus, if I keep this up I'll get dizzy and be sick all over the floor.  That's a no-win situation.).

            Counting in my head to three seconds as I roll (My estimate for how long it will take for him to figure out what I'm doing, adjust his aim and then for the bullets to get to me.), I load my weight into my arms on my final rotation and push myself as hard as I can over to my left propelling myself up and through the air.  And not through the stream of bullets that had been traveling just above my head.  I manage to avoid every pellet.  Landing on my feet, I continue running without breaking stride or momentum.  Listening to the poisoned plastic
ping
off the floor to my right, I know I only have a moment before Ren follows my movement and brings his aim to bear on my new location. 

            Watching the pellets stream by out of the corner of my eye, I count off half a dozen steps before they start snaking their way towards me.  I've managed to half the distance to the wall since he's started firing at me, and I'm beginning to feel that my plan will be a success.  I've beaten him! 

            When the pellets get to within a few feet of where I'm running, I land and load as much of my weight and power into my left leg as I can and then spring up and flip
over
them.  Rotating through the air, I twist my body so that my feet will come down first and I can continue the last few dozen steps to the wall...and my victory.

            But before I can get my feet back in contact with the ground the lights go out.  All the overhead lights in the entire warehouse die at once and pitch the cavernous area into instant night.  Even with my eyes adjusting to the lack of illumination, the abrupt change is startling and I stumble.  I hit the ground hard on both knees and skid over onto my side for a few feet across the slick linoleum floor.

            "Ouch," I whisper into the darkness around me. 
That was a dirty trick
, I think.
But a useless one.  It's not like I can't see in the dark better than I can the light.  This actually helps me.  He's getting lazy with his attacks
.

            Turning back to face the direction I know he's still hiding in, I yell, "Hey Ren.  Nice try, but I'm still going to..."

            And then with a distinct
popping
sound everything around me goes a brilliant fresh-snow-on-a-sunny-day white.  I go from seeing the warehouse in perfect silhouetted night vision, to seeing nothing but absolute whiteness.  Everywhere.

           
What just happened?
  I think, and it's quickly followed by,
Curse you, Ren, you sneaky little twit.  You've just blinded me.
  He knocked out the lights to get me to expand my irises and increase my night vision, and then he blasted me with spotlights.  He gave me a healthy dose of the
flash
part of a
flash-bang
grenade.

            Getting to my feet, I say just loud enough for him to hear, "I hate you, Ren."

            Then over the soft hum of his guns kicking into full automatic fire, I hear him say back, "It's only getting worse."

            The angry lash of the plastic pellets dancing across my skin makes me stumble backwards away from them, but I don't hit the ground.  I have enough time to think,
He's shooting me while I'm blinded!
, and then I do the only thing that seems logical right now to end it all: I sprint all out for the wall with my arms outstretched.

            As long as I keep the horrific sting of the bb's on my back, then that means I'm running away from Ren.  And if I'm running
from
Ren, then I must be running
towards
my goal.  Doing my best to bob and weave while I move and keep the damage he can inflict to a minimum, I make my way across the floor.  After a few seconds of running and hearing the bb's hit the ground around me, an idea hits me that I've never tried before.  If bats can use their ears for sonar, then why can't I.  I know the general principal behind it: bounce sound waves off solid objects to find out where they are.  Now's as good a time as any to try it.

            I start screaming while I run and listen for the change in sound to see if I can tell when it hits a wall and comes back.  Two seconds of sprinting later it hits me, and I don't mean the wall.  It's a subtle change, but I can tell that my voice is beginning to echo and come back to me as opposed to being lost in the void that is the warehouse.  And if it is bouncing back to me, then that means I am close to something big and solid to make that happen.  Something like a wall.

            I slow as my echo intensifies, but I keep my arms outstretched and bent ready to absorb the impact when it happens.  My excitement at beating Ren to the wall overshadows even the biting flies that keep swarming across my body.  It'll all be worthwhile as soon as I make contact.

            And I do just a second later.  My palms smack the cool cement wall, and I lean my face against it in relief.  Taking a deep breath, I say as loudly as my voice will let me, "You can stop shooting, Ren.  I made it.  I won."  Before my voice can even bounce back to me from the far walls of the warehouse, the repetitive
tick-tick
of the guns chokes to a stop and the
tinking
of bb's ceases.

            A moment later the lights click over to their normal brightness and the blinding white of snow gives way to a relaxing vanilla.  My eyes quickly adjust to the lighting as I slump down to the ground and turn to see Ren walking over to me.  His arms hang at his sides clutching the two airsoft guns and his shields flank him like the protective wings they are.

            Staring into his eyes as he approaches, I do my best to tune out my body's screams of discomfort as it mends itself of the damage he just wrought upon it.  The healing process is almost unbearably painful, but I refuse to let him see that his plan nearly succeeded.  I will embrace every victory that I can get.