Author’s note: – This is a follow on to the previous chapter of Becca XXX Hard Time. Please read it before reading this or you will not find out the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. Hard Time. Ch 07.

I’d learned a long time ago that when you’ve got something frightening or difficult to do, there’s no point in delaying it.

The human mind only dwells on the negative outcomes of difficult tasks, which sends you into a vicious spiral of even more worry and stress. Preparation is fine, but sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind and go for it.

I was well trained in negotiation and martial arts and, as I left the rest of my new gang in Melody’s cell, I had no fear of what was to come.

Melody and Naomi had both offered to come with me, but I’d talked them out of it. Turning up mob-handed outside The Crow’s cell would only provoke the situation and, for now, that was what I was trying to avoid.

I had no weapons on me other than the ones I was born with. Almost every part of the human body can be used to inflict harm on another person if you knew how to. Fists, elbows, knees, feet and even your forehead can be used to take an opponent down in the blink of an eye, but I hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.

The wing seemed to fall silent as I walked along the first-floor landing with purpose towards The Sisterhood’s inner sanctum. People were going about their company, but moved out of the way and stopped talking as I passed them. Some nodded at me and some looked away. It was as though they all knew what was coming.

The whole of Bronzefield knew what I’d done to The Crow’s goons and they knew not to stand in my way. I was a one-woman wrecking machine and if I took out more of The Sisterhood or even their leader, the rest of the prison would sleep easier at night.

I spotted the Crow’s lookouts early on. There were two skinny girls standing on either side of the upper walkway who looked like crack whores. They were painfully thin, with eyes that were sunk into their skulls. Their only interest was where their next fix was coming from and The Crow must have been keeping them supplied in return for sentry duty. They certainly weren’t fighters, but they’d been chosen to warn the rest of her gang if anyone approached their area of the prison.

As I got closer, one of them spotted me, but looked away and tapped something metallic on the railings.

Ting – ting.

I passed her unchallenged and noticed that she had a silver coin in her hand. The tapping noise echoed down towards a group of four larger women standing outside what I assumed to be The Crow’s cell.

On hearing the warning, all four of them formed up on the landing as I continued my approach. I kept an eye on my periphery without actually looking at anyone, but I could see everyone around me. Some onlookers moved away and went into their cells, some actually ran past me in the opposite direction with their heads down.

They all knew what was coming and they didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

I breathed slowly and deeply, trying to fight my body’s natural reactions. The fight or flight response is built into all of us and dates back to the caveman era. It’s there to fill our blood with adrenaline ready to either run for our life or fight for it. The issue with adrenaline is that it can make you freeze. The brain can not cope with a gigantic increase in the chemical and it gets stuck with the decision of running or staying still. Instead, it does nothing.

My yogic breathing and centring of my body kept me calm on the outside, but ready to unleash hell on the inside. I was like a coiled spring, full of potential energy waiting to be released if it was triggered.

I brought both hands up and patted the air in front of me as I got within eight feet of the girls and then I stopped.

Eight feet was my optimum fighting distance in a situation like this. I was too far away for any of them to strike at me without making a double movement. That would give me long enough to read the attack and counter it as it came in.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I said calmly. “I just want to talk to The Crow.”

I glanced behind me to make sure my exit wasn’t blocked and that no one had snuck up behind me. The whole landing had cleared, but there were still a few faces peering out from behind doorframes to watch it all unfold.

“She doesn’t accept visitors,” snapped a girl with a head the size of a pumpkin.

“Tell her Becca’s here to see her. I’m sure she’ll make an exception,” I said.

“We know who you are, bitch. You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, I’ll give you that,” said her friend who had the physique of a Russian shot-putter.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Can you let her know I’m here to talk.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you. You’re marked for death in this prison. Whoever takes you out is going to be well rewarded, believe me,” said Pumpkin-head.

I let out a long sigh of disappointment and dropped my hands to my sides. The sigh wasn’t just for effect. The long in-breath and out-breath calmed me down and helped me to relax, but it ran deeper than that. Martial arts isn’t about brawling and using muscle power. It’s about being relaxed and using inner energy rather than brute strength.

Just the simple act of throwing a punch only required an initial twitch of the hips and glutes to send the fist on its trajectory. It remains relaxed during its flight and then the whole body tenses as it makes impact. That’s what made it so deadly. It wasn’t the fist that did the damage, it was the energy wave it threw off. I at all times likened it to a heart beat. The technique went from a flat line, to its maximum peak and back to a flat line in the blink of an eye. As you returned to the relaxed position, it made you ready for the next opponent before the first one had even hit the floor.

“Do you really want to do this?” I asked.

“Do you?” replied Pumpkin-head.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Not for long,” piped up another girl from behind who had blue hair.

“The last time I fought any of you fuckwits, there were six of you. Now there’s only four. I can see that maths isn’t your strong point, but do you really think you’re going to stop me getting into that cell?” I nodded at the door behind them.

“We’re The Crow’s personal protection team,” said Shot-putter. “You won’t get past us.”

“You couldn’t protect yourself from pregnancy,” I laughed. “Not that anyone would ever want to fuck you, you fucking rhino.”

I watched her face screw up in anger and she tightened her fists. These girls were as stupid as the last ones I’d fought. I wasn’t gonna get anywhere by talking to them so I’d have to resort to plan B as usual. Naomi would be very disappointed, but I had a job to do.

“You won’t be laughing when I’m fisting your corpse,” she sneered.

“Awwww, is that the only way you can get any sex – by fucking dead bodies?” I made a pouty face at her.

The fourth girl at the back was unusually quiet. The Crow’s crew were usually full of bravado and bullshit which was meant to intimidate any would be aggressor. This girl was slim and athletic and nice looking for a change. Her eyes were very pretty and she wasn’t rising to any of my insults.

Pumpkin head, Shot-putter and Blue-hair had been picked by The Crow due to their size and demeanour. They were intimidating to look at, but that’s as far as it went. Pretty-eyes was the real deal and was by far my biggest threat at that moment. I’d have to be careful with her.

I quickly glanced back to check I wasn’t gonna be attacked from the rear.

It was still clear.

Everything was now to my benefit. I’d planned it this way as I’d approached. The landing was narrow which meant they could only attack me one at a time; two at the most. They were practically lined up in front of me like four punch bags waiting to be dropped one by one.

Pumpkin-head would have to go first. She was so wide that the others wouldn’t be able to attack me until she was out of the way. She’d be slow due to her size, which meant I had speed and aggression on my side.

“I’ll ask you one more time and then you’ll be off to the infirmary,” I said. “Can you please waddle your big fat ass over to the door and tell The Crow that I’m here to speak to her.”

“Fuck you, bitch. You’re dead,” shouted Pumpkin-head, a split second before she attacked.

She stepped forwards with her right foot to make up the distance between us. At the same time, she pulled her right fist back like a baseball player about to swing for a home run. It was so blindingly obvious what she was doing that I had always in the world to execute my counter attack.

As her fist started it’s long swing towards me, I side stepped forwards with my right foot and punched her in the throat with my right hand as hard as I could. My body locked on contact and my first two knuckles projected into the target by about two inches. The Japanese name for my punch was Kazami Zuki or jabbing punch, but it was far more than a jab. It had my whole body weight behind it plus my enemy’s forward momentum as she came towards me. That doubled the kinetic energy of the impact. Her head rocked back as though her neck had been broken.

Thwack. Snap.

I felt my technique finish and I then pulled my arm back and stepped away to where I’d come from as though nothing had happened. It took a second or two for her body to catch up with her brain and realise that she’d been knocked out from my devastating strike, but it eventually caught up. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the floor like a fallen tree in slow motion.

Crump.

One down, three to go.

“Are we carrying on?” I asked with a smug grin on my face. “Or do you all want to end up like her?”

Shot-putter screamed like a banshee and lurched towards me. She had to cover more distance than Pumpkin-head because she had been standing behind her. She also had to step over her unconscious friend who was now lying on the landing between us.

I watched her like a hawk and stood stock still until I saw my opening. Having an opponent who doesn’t move when you attack them is very disconcerting and it gave me the upper hand. In her head she was thinking ‘why hasn’t she moved? She’s too slow. I’m gonna win’. Unfortunately for her, it had given her false confidence and as her right foot was about to touch the floor on my side of the body, I kicked out with my left and swept her leg sideways from under her.

Her weight had already shifted to the foot that was about to touch the ground and she toppled sideways unable to stop herself from falling over. Her arms flailed about trying to keep herself upright as her face headed towards the railings. It was futile; she was gonna bang her face on them no matter what she did. I just helped her on the way. I grabbed the back of her head and forced it downwards onto the metal bar with a gut-wrenching crunch. The horizontal bar smashed into her top lip and the noise was so loud that it echoed off the walls of A wing like someone ringing a dinner bell.

Crunch. Clang.

Blood and teeth splattered onto the metal walkway and she landed in a heap on top of her fat-headed friend. She was out of it.

I heard an onlooker take a sharp intake of breath followed by an ‘oooooooh’ of shock and then the silence returned.

Two down, two to go.

“I could do this all day long,” I smirked.

Blue-hair was next in the firing line and she appeared to have a bit more about her. She was several feet back from the two bodies so she waited for me to come to her. I could tell that she was gonna wait until I was stepping over the bodies before she attacked me. She was a fast learner, but I wasn’t gonna allow it to happen.

“Come on cunt face,” she spat, beckoning me in. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“There’s no need for name calling,” I replied calmly. “Let’s try and be civil.”

“Fuck you… come on, you slag. You’re going down.”

I started my way towards her and began to step over her passed-out comrades. Unlike her friend, I kept my left hand on the railing to steady myself. As my left leg got three-quarters of the way towards her, she ran forwards ready to attack me while I was apparently off balance. Unfortunately for her, I hadn’t transferred my body weight to that leg yet; it was still three inches off the floor. As soon as she was close enough, I pulled my left foot back and jumped up in the air with my right. I supported my weight on the hand rail and kicked her straight in the face before she could react.

Slap. Crunch.

I landed on her side of the bodies, but I was closer than I wanted to be. My kick had stunned her, but she wasn’t out of it yet. She shook her head to clear her vision and that was always I needed to finish her off. I was too close for an effective punch so I snapped my elbow under her chin in an upwards direction and drove up off my back leg. The force of the blow lifted her off of her feet by a couple of inches and she flew backwards towards the wall.

Smash – snap – flop.

She was unconscious before she hit the wall and her body scraped down the grey paintwork like a wet rag.

Three down. One to go.

I focused my full attention on Pretty-eyes. She was standing motionless in front of me like a statue. If that wasn’t worrying enough, her face gave nothing away; it was like stone.

“I guess it’s just you and me now,” I stated the obvious. “Why don’t you be a dear and move aside? It doesn’t have to be like this. I’d hate to mess up that pretty face of yours, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

I wasn’t being sarcastic for a change. She really was a stunner. She had short blonde hair and gigantic green eyes. It was obvious that she stayed in shape and anyone who was that nice looking without any scars or marks on them, must have been a good fighter.

She responded by stepping back into a fighting stance. Her feet were shoulder width aside, with her right leg back and her hips and shoulders at forty-five-degrees to me. She brought her hands up in front of her with her left hand open and her right hand making a fist. That told me that she was right-handed. It was a classic martial arts ready-stance and I knew from her ice-cold persona that she knew what she was doing. She stared out at me with dead eyes as she sized me up, looking at nothing, but seeing everything with her thousand-yard stare. I just shrugged and dropped into a similar stance and stared back at her. My heart beat slowed and my whole body relaxed.

I was ready.

We were now locked in a stalemate until one of us made a move. Japanese Samurai warriors used to sit opposite their enemy for hours until one of them attacked the other. Then, as they drew their swords, one would die and one would be victorious. They had had to enter a state of mind known as Mushin or no mind. The battle of the minds was equally as essential as the physical one which they were about to undertake. Each warrior had entered the battle to win or lose without any wondered of winning or losing.

Only through years of hard training could this be achieved. Fear never entered into my thoughts. In fact, nothing did. I was either gonna react to her attack or she was gonna react to mine. After that it was just down to who was the better, more determined fighter.

That was gonna be me.

I was never one for prolonging a stand off. I was trained to finish a fight as quickly and effortlessly as feasible. We had some distance to cover, so a front snapping kick was the most obvious attack. I was about to make my move but Pretty-eyes got there a fraction of a second before me.

She snapped her back leg towards me and I moved to the side in order to avoid and block her kick. Unfortunately, her front kick was just a ploy to draw me in and she changed it at the last minute into a round-house to my face.

She was fast – too fast for me – and the ball of her foot connected hard with my temple. I saw starbursts, but managed to stay on my feet as she followed it up with a punch to my chest. My instincts kicked in and I blocked her punch downwards, pulling her towards me. As she lined me up with her left, I punched out with my right arm like a piston, aiming just below her earlobe.

She read my counter early and grabbed my wrist with both hands, twisting and pulling my arm upwards into an arm lock. My body bent forwards at the waist to prevent my elbow from snapping as she shifted position. A move like that was usually followed up with a strike to the back of the neck. If she managed to do that, I’d be out of the game.

As she twisted my arm up into the air, I dropped onto one knee, flowing with her movement and spinning my free elbow around in a wide arc behind me. My low body weight caused her head to drop lower and she ploughed into the tip of my elbow.

Smack.

It hit her hard in the ear and she reeled backwards, losing her grip on my arm. I got to my feet and went after her while she was momentarily stunned. Anger filled her eyes as though she’d never been hit before. Her ego was now clouding her judgment.

I faked a punch to her face, jumped up in the air and wrapped my arm around her neck. I landed behind her and dragged her backwards on top of me. My arm tightened around her throat and I started to choke her out, using my other arm for leverage.

She was agile and athletic and had a strong will not to lose. Maybe she was thinking of The Crow’s big reward or maybe it was just down to loyalty. Either way, she didn’t give up.

She wrapped her arms around the back of my head and dragged my head towards her chest. At the same time, she snapped her knee up towards my face. I hadn’t seen it coming and she was so fast that it crashed into the side of my cheek.

Crunch.

I could taste blood in my mouth, feeling the inside of my cheek make contact with my teeth, cutting into the soft flesh. I kept hold of her, squeezing harder and using my dominant body weight to roll her over. I didn’t want a repeat performance which I knew was coming. She was now face down on the metal walkway with my knee pushing into her back and my arm choking the life out of her.

She wriggled, thrashed and lashed out trying to scratch at my eyes and face, but I kept my head well out of the way and waited for her to stop fighting. Her face was going red and she was gasping for air. She was about to pass out when I heard a shout from behind me.

“ENOUGH!”

I turned my head to see The Crow standing in her cell doorway with her arms held up in the air in surrender.

“Let her go,” she said more quietly. “I’ll listen to what you’ve got to say.”

I was in a vulnerable position lying on top of her body guard. The Crow could have easily stabbed me or kicked me in the head, but she’d chosen to talk. I found that surprising but I wasn’t taking any chances. I released my choke hold on Pretty-eyes and got to my feet before she changed her mind.

“This could have all been avoided if your bitches had been more welcoming,” I glanced over at the three unconscious bodies on the floor. “You should have just come out to see me.”

Pretty-eyes was coughing her lungs up trying to get some oxygen back into her body. She rolled over onto her back with her large green eyes almost popping out of her head. Spit and dribble oozed from her lips as her body tried to recover.

“Are you ok?” The Crow asked her, ignoring me completely.

Pretty-eyes nodded, but still didn’t speak. I thought if she was mute.

I was about to say something else when Davis and Edwards arrived on the walkway. They had their batons drawn and were approaching cautiously. They’d certainly taken their time in responding to the fight even though it had lasted less than two minutes.

The Crow turned her attention towards them and shook her head. To my amazement, the two screws stopped in their tracks and put their batons back into their belts. I suddenly realised how much power this girl had over people in the prison. She was untouchable in Bronzfield; even some of the screws did as she said.