And that’s a strange feeling. A very strange feeling.
#
Months later, I dig into the ground. The sludge is all being directed back to the zone. So I’m helping dig small trenches to the main river now. And parents still go there to sort through it, but more and more are stopping. They are concentrating on rebuilding now. Trying to figure out what to do.
Some of the mutants that came up to help started putting up campsites and living here. Some have even started renting apartments downtown. And the normals seem to be relatively okay with it. It’s not paradise. Not perfect. But they don’t give us the evil eye like they did. I guess all it took was seeing mutants other than me to soften everyone up.
I pitch the dirt over my shoulder and into the wheelbarrow. I’m filling in for Dad. He’s off making sure that the baby is born. Mom went for a check-in some weeks ago and found out the baby had a tentacle or three coming out of the chest. Mutant.
I felt really bad for them. I knew they had wanted someone more like them and less like me. Or at least, I thought they did. But they both took it well. They didn’t seem phased by it. So now they're back home, by the zone, making sure they have doctors who have handled mutant deliveries before.
I’m going to hitch a ride with one of the guys after work and see the kid.
I’ve got the afternoon off.
Willy has some fundraiser out at the Bishop. All night fights. Sign up and start swinging. There’s a lot of people. A lot of people you don’t normally see here. A lot of normals signed up too. I think everyone is just trying to get their frustration out.
This short man with fading brown hair takes to the ring and starts flailing as soon as the bell hit. His arms are speeding by his ears and hips as he runs towards his opponent. Some big guy with sloping shoulders. That little guy just hits the belly of that big guy. Keeps beating on it. The big guy just looks down at him and you can see his lower lip shaking.
And looking at the little one, his face is red and his screams are more like wails of anger. They end up with their arms wrapped up around each other and sobbing. They walk off and bawl. They were fathers of a few of my former classmates.
I take to the ring a few fights after that. My match has been set up by Willy. The same kind I had the first time I fought here.
Different guy though. I stand there in the cage much like before. But something is different. Things seem to slow down for me. I feel a jolt of energy run up my spine. It isn’t nerves. It isn’t fear. It is something else.
Anticipation.
My muscles tighten and my fists clench in their wrappings. The guy is tall and has half his face drooping down into his large left shoulder. He has almost a purple hue to his skin. It might be the lights though. It might be me. Everything seems colored strange. And time slows. I’m not the strongest swinger. But I’m fast now.
And I have stamina. Which means I duck and dodge the behemoth. His breathing gets heavy and so does mine, but I keep moving while his legs start to turn to sand. He drags himself around while I get more hits in.
I try to dance around a little. That gets me into trouble. I try to remember what Sam said before she died. What she was telling me before she left. But I’m having a hard time remembering. I concentrate to think of her face and then I see a glove come bursting through followed by pinks lights and vanishing spots in my eyes.
So I keep to the basics. Hitting and moving. And ducking out of his reach whenever he tries to get me to grapple. I can’t compete with his strength. So I used my speed. And keep getting those hits in. His right side is starting to look violet more and more. Darkness surrounds his eyes.
But he doesn’t go down. He has a little too much resilience for that. And like I said, I’m not the strongest swinger.
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