“Sure. Get to it.” She pauses to drag her eyes up and down my uniform with a wry smile and a dry chuckle. “Private Piccolo.” The way she manages to look both irritatingly smug and teasingly innocent is almost as disconcerting as my complete lack of defense against it. She fixes her gaze on the patient soldier between us. “Do not go easy on her, Private Frank.”
The recruit’s back goes rigid, a borderline insulted look crossing her cherubic face. “Of course not, Captain.”
Taylor’s attention is called away by other recruits, so I follow Private Frank to where she and Private Bernard have staked out some soft grass to spar in. “This is Private Bernard. B, this is Private Piccolo. She’s training with Eos.”
“Oh, yeah?” Private Bernard tilts his head. He’s an attractive man in his early twenties with a swath of jet-black hair and a scraggly reddish beard, as well as a set of piercing blue eyes. “Piccolo, like Leader Piccolo?”
“Do I look like Leader Piccolo to you?”
Private Bernard crosses his arms. “Does your daddy know you’re here?”
“I imagine he would, seeing as he was there when I was kidnapped.” My words shock Private Frank, who apparently had not made the connection earlier. “Is this going to be a problem?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. Looking forward to kicking the ass of Leader Piccolo’s precious princess.”
“Don’t be a jerk, Bernard,” Private Frank says. “She just said she got kidnapped.”
“Yeah, from her mansion, where she lives with her servants and shit. Boo fucking hoo.” Private Bernard glances around at the other recruits and points across the grounds toward Taylor. “Guess that’s why you’re not getting torn to pieces. Even in here you got more privilege than the rest of us.” He gets right into my face and sneers. “I can’t wait to put your father in the ground. And you with him, for all I fucking care.”
I snort in amusement. “Private Frank tells me you can barely put anyone on the ground, never mind in it. And, see, I know you’ve never met anyone like me—bet you barely get out of the forest here—but I’ve met a hundred boys like you. Bark, no bite. Very forgettable.”
Private Bernard smirks, the anger in him lurking beneath the surface. “All right, then. Why don’t you start with the kid? This way we can see if you’re up to playing with the big dogs.”
“Why, do you know any big dogs? Only thing I see around here are runts.”
“Real funny. Square up, Piccolo.”
Knowing I’m being watched and judged, especially by a particularly bright pair of amber eyes across the field, pumps me with enough adrenaline to gain some semblance of confidence. It isn’t easy, but failing in front of these people is not something I’m willing to do. I may be out of my element, but I’m still Luciana Piccolo. Whatever that means.
Private Frank isn’t easy to beat. Though tiny, like Taylor she uses a superior skill set to try and take me down. Fortunately, Taylor’s instructions prove useful, and my training, coupled with my height and weight, allows me to finally get her to yield through sheer force. Private Bernard is a tougher match. He’s larger and stronger, and within little time the wind is knocked out of me and I’m on my back, at quite the disadvantage.
But I know what he’s going to do. Awareness. Anticipation. He’s going to try and straddle me with his full weight. Not the first man to try that with me, and not the first man to fail. Lifting my left knee, he prepares to block it, but I switch and slam my right knee into his side, and my left foot near his groin. He crumbles in surprise and pain, writhing and falling to the side. Quickly I push him onto his stomach and sit astride his butt, wrenching his arms in front of me.
Sweating and smug, I hold him down as best I can. “Yield, princess?”
“Ow, yes.” Swiftly, I rise to my feet and offer my hand to him. He ignores it and gets himself up with a wince. “Goddamnit. Can’t believe I got my ass handed to me by a goddamn Piccolo.”
“Duh. You don’t train privately with Eos without picking up something.” Private Frank turns to me with wide eyes. “Can you teach me, like, everything she taught you?”
Across the field, I catch the attention of Captain Taylor, who gives me only a slight nod in spite of my triumphant success. Looks like I’m going to have to hand a lot more people their butts before I get any real praise. But it’s something.
Sometimes, a little something is everything.
Our final dayis mild for late November, warming the frozen ground and frost-tipped grass. We do calisthenics outside for most of the morning, then retreat into a humid gymnasium in the late afternoon. Thin blue mats line the floor, the faint smell of floor cleaner and sweat in the air. It’s amazing how the former lives of buildings remain inside them long after they’ve been reincarnated. Everything about this room screams “adolescent gym,” though I imagine it hasn’t lived that life in a long time.
“If you take away only one thing from your time here, it should be this lesson. Non-fatally disengaging an enemy.” Taylor squares up, feet shoulder-width apart, and takes my hand. My fingertips brush the edge of her eyelashes as she puts my hand right at her eyes. “Gouge the eyes out. You will disorient your attacker enough to get away, or disarm them. In extreme circumstances you can rip the eyeballs out. It may deter other attackers, though that is more fatal, of course.”
“Gross.” I sigh impatiently as she lowers her hand to the tip of my nose. “I know, push the nose up into the brain, blah blah.” Her eyes follow the movement as I position my pinky against her neck. “Hit them in the jugular.” I step forward and put my foot on hers. “Instep. And the money shot—a knee to the groin. I grew up in New York City, you think I don’t know where to hit a guy?”
“I think you have never had to defend yourself from someone trying to kill you,” she says. “Trust me, it is different.”
Suddenly, my arms are wrenched behind my back, pressed against Mason’s chest. I struggle mightily for a while as Taylor observes with an even expression. In vain, I try to step on his feet, but he dodges me. While he’s not applying pressure, I’m panicking because I can’t get loose. “Put your right leg behind his legs.”
“What?”
“Put your right leg behind his legs. This person has you in a bear hug. They could be squeezing the life out of you, cracking your ribs. Do it.” I do as she tells me and my foot is between his, behind us both. “Pull your foot in and fall back on him.” We crash to the ground. “Knee him in the groin.” Rapidly I flip over, the rounded part of my knee hitting a hard cup which I’m thankful for, as I’m sure he is as well. “Now strike his face with your elbow.” My elbow swings at his face but I don’t hit him. I realize I’m free of his grip and scramble to my feet.
“Ha ha!” I raise my hands in the air triumphantly. Taylor rolls her eyes at me as Mason lumbers to his feet. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”