The Apartment Above Lukes to Baltimore, Late Thursday Night

[spin_kick_snap]

The teen feinted left, then dove right. Kathy followed, changing direction in mid-air, tackling him again. She latched on to his backpack and tried to bite through the canvas. Crying but unaware of it, the boy unsnapped the straps, letting bag and ex fall. Inside, Kathy could hear cans tumbling around, food, supplies. But she wasn't interested in those, even though she was hungry. Starving. All she could think about was eating. And her target, her focus was this boy, this teen, struggling to get away from her. He was hungry, too. She could tell from the thinness of his cheeks, the way his clothes hung on his frame. But he was willing to lose all the cans of food in the bag in an attempt to escape her.

She hit the ground, discarding the bag of food and bounced back up to her feet. The teen had run a few hundred yards the first time she jumped at him. This time, he barely got fifty before she was on him again. "No," he begged. "You don't understand. I have a little sister, she needs me..."

He was right. Kathy didn't understand. All she understood was hunger. She craned her head and bit into Eli's neck, pulling away a mouthful of skin and flesh and blood. He screamed, a high-pitched sound like a rabbit in a snare, but she didn't care. She only cared about the hunger. Another bite, fresh blood forming new stains on the white gi. The bites came faster as the scream gurgled to an abrupt stop and Kathy hunkered over the body, holding it fast even after its struggles ceased...



Kathy flung herself upright in bed, gasping for breath, shaking her head in hopes of dislodging the last images of the dream. No, memory. It was too real, to vividly detailed to be a dream. She was starting to learn the distinctions between the two. Like how memories were always worse.

Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was almost one, but the adrenaline threading through her veins wouldn't let her get back to sleep anytime soon. She thought about doing a couple of laps around the island to try to tire herself out and get a few more hours of rest but honestly? It rarely ever seemed to work. Neither did vegging out in front of the TV until dawn, or soaking in a hot bath with a book. The problem was, none of those activities were good at giving her what she was looking for: a chance to get out of her own head, to forget those things her brain was forcing her to remember. Maybe she should call Anders? He'd said to call if she needed to talk--but no. It was late, he'd possibly be in bed, and she didn't want to talk, she wanted to do.

The lights over the water from Baltimore caught her eye through the window and she shoved her blankets out of the way. Maybe that was what she needed, a trip into the city. Boston hadn't done much for her state of mind, but she'd managed to sleep every night. The bars would be closing soon, but she knew of a couple of after-hour clubs she could get into. With the pounding beat, music loud enough to deafen, and a crowd of bodies to get lost in, Kathy might finally find a way to drown out her thoughts even if she couldn't shut them up.

[Warning for zombie-typical violence to a teen under the cut.]

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[spin_kick_snap]

"I'm just gonna stop you right there," Kathy told him, and lashed out with a fist again. There was a crunching noise as it connected with his nose and blood immediately began to pour down his face. "Save the monologue for someone who cares."

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

Of the few and mostly unsavory skills he possessed, the one he was most proud of was his ability to take a hit. Though this tiny girl packed a surprisingly mean punch, he wasn't about to punk out after a few punches. So, with one hand still tight around his aching nose, he took a swing of his own.

Only to have her practically dance out of the way of it, her high heels clattering out a staccato rhythm on the concrete. But her dodge didn't give him the time to breathe he'd hoped for; a second after his fist sailed through the air where her face used to be, she was back up in his space, aiming a sharp kick to his hip.

[spin_kick_snap]

He should just be glad Kathy wasn't feeling particularly spiteful. Arching her foot, she hit him with the sole of her shoe and not the heel. If she'd gotten him with that, there was every possibility that it would have pierced his skin and sunk in a few inches.

Okay, maybe it was less that she wasn't feeling spiteful and more that she just really liked these shoes. They were cute as hell.

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

Yeah, he wasn't exactly feeling philosophical about how much worse it could have been. He howled in pain, feeling like someone had set off a fire cracker in his left hip.

The next name he called her was even worse as he took yanked his hand away from his nose and flung a palmful of blood directly in her face.

[spin_kick_snap]

"Did your mama teach you--" Kathy was not prepared for the guy to use his own blood as a projectile weapon, no. As he'd intended, the spatter hit her directly in her face, forcing her eyes closed. Worse, though, was that some caught in her open mouth, landing directly on her tongue.

Immediately memories blossomed and Kathy was horrified at how her mouth instantly watered. She spat several times on the sidewalk, more worried about the blood in her mouth than the blood in her eyes. A hundred scenes exploded in her mind's eye; dozens of snapshots of biting into warm flesh and letting the blood flow...

The follow-up punch to the face was almost a relief, snapping her out of the mental haze of the past and back into the present. The second blow to the face was unnecessary and she managed to open her eyes just in time to see the third on its way, red smeared across the knuckles.

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

Yo, it creeped him out to see her writhe her way out of the range of his fist. She'd just moved too fast, body too flexible as she bent over backwards to avoid the hit. There was something kinda horror-movie about it, like she was gonna start skittering away like a giant spider next.

Which was why he didn't immediately go for the fourth punch. In retrospect, that proved to be a tactical error.

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy sprang back up to her feet and lunged for him, ducking past his arms to get right into his face. She ignored the instincts that were telling her to bite and relied on her fists, elbows, and knees instead. He got in one or two more blows--maybe more, she hardly felt them--and then went down in a loose sprawl next to the purse that had been forgotten by both of them.

"Who's crazy now?" Kathy demanded, glaring down at his prone form.

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

"Pretty sure it's you, honey," Jewels said from a few feet away. She'd headed over as soon as they'd started fighting, though her self-preservation instincts has her holding back while punches were being thrown. Now, though, she could move forward, collect her purse, rifle through that asshole's pockets for loose cash or anything else of interest. "Pretty sure most girls don't fight off muggers in a pretty party--Banzai?"

[spin_kick_snap]

Fuck. Of all the things Kathy hadn't expected tonight, running into someone she knew, being recognized wasn't one of them. She didn't want it. Not like this. Not right now.

"Sorry," she said flatly. "You must be thinking of somebody else."

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

"Nah, nah," Jewels said, her Midwestern twang growing stronger. "You can't fool me, sweetheart. You might not be in a rainbow getup or have your mask, but I saw you! You're fast!"

Jewels hadn't thought much about it at the time, most of their moves were concealed by shadows and hard to make out. She should have, though. Should have realized. Who else would start a fight with a mugger over a hooker's purse.

"I thought you were dead."

[spin_kick_snap]

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kathy kicked the purse over to Jewels and turned to leave. "You got your purse back. Think about that instead."

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"Banzai, please," Jewels pleaded, eyes filling with tears. "Honey, you don't even know. I was so worried about you. And then Dante came and told me that you'd died in some stupid superhero bullshit and--"

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"I'm not Banzai!" Kathy shouted. "Listen to your fucking friend, okay? Banzai's dead. Get over it."

[hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com]

"You think I don't know your voice?" Jewels asked, quietly. "I might never have seen your face, Kathy, but that doesn't mean I can't recognize you."

[spin_kick_snap]

This was all too much. Just too damn much. She spun on her heel and stalked off. "Hate to break it to you," she said over her shoulder, "but I'm not the person you're hoping I am. Sorry."

And then she walked away, leaving Jewels behind to forlornly pick up the battered purse and hug it tightly to her chest.