Lila Jean found a fresh clip. She jammed it into her rifle, aimed at the bear, and began to fire.

Shot after shot she put in the bear. It swung at the air blindly for a moment, then, realizing where the bullets were coming from, dropped to all fours and charged at her.

Six bullets. Seven bullets. The bear's heavy, steam engine gallop seemed unbreakable. The bear was already nearly on top of her when she put an eighth bullet right between his eyes.

The bear stumbled and fell. Its momentum continued to carry it toward Lila Jean, who barely rolled clear of its crushing weight.

The bear did not get up. It lay there on the forest floor, not breathing, not moving. There was no question: it was dead.

Lila Jean leapt to her feet in a haze, adrenaline still pumping. She couldn't believe what just happened, could hardly wrap her head around it. For the past few minutes, she had not had the liberty to act on anything but instinct, and even though the danger had passed, it would be a while before her autopilot was completely switched off. Before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself at Chase's side.

Chase was sprawled on her back, head turned to the side. Her eyes were closed. She coughed, and a fresh spurt of blood hit the grass. “Miss Campbell. Chase,” said Lila Jean, dropping to one knee. “You saved me. Ah had a gun pointed at you an' ah reckon you saved me.”

“What?” asked Chase. Her eyelids fluttered once, trying to open, but they wouldn't stay.

A Campbell would never do something so selfless for a Swindle the way Chase had done. Even looking down the barrel of Lila Jean's gun, Chase chose not to throw her tomahawk at her, but at the bear behind her. If she really wanted Lila Jean dead, it would have been easy to just let the bear have her and save her own neck, running off while the bear entertained itself with Lila Jean.

The Swallered Opossum girl believed Chase now. For what little it was worth.

“Hey, stay awake,” said Lila Jean, patting Chase's cheek. The blonde was clearly fading. “Stay awake. Ah'm gonna git you outta here.”

Chase tried. She tried to talk but couldn't. She tried to cough, but she didn't even have the strength for that. Blood gurgled in her throat and seeped into her lungs. Each tap on the cheek yanked her back slightly from the edge of unconsciousness, but she was being pulled toward it much, much too fast for it to matter. In seconds, she blacked out.

…........

Alicia and Mary Rose watched each other for a moment. “A-Alicia!” yelped Kirk, shocked. “It's not what it looks like.”

“I know, I know,” said Alicia. And she did know. She'd heard enough to understand that Kirk wasn't buying what Mary Rose was selling.

Alicia had hoped her appearance, with weapon in hand, would be enough to scare Mary Rose off, but Mary Rose did not look scared at all. Instead, she looked amused.

“Well well, lookit you. What're you gonna do with that, precious?”

Alicia swallowed. She tried to look aggressive. Mary Rose's lack of fear was, in turn, putting some fear in Alicia, but she did her best to ignore it. “I'm gonna whack you with it! If... I-if you don't leave right now.”

Mary Rose laughed. She slipped off of Kirk's lap and stood up. She turned around to face her enemy, one hand on her hip. “Oh, you are, huh? When did you grow a backbone? You know your weird foreign friend ain't here to pertect you, right?”

With a glare, Alicia refocused herself and tightened her grip on the golf club's handle. The couch was a sort of low barrier between the two girls, but it didn't offer Alicia much in the way of a sense of security. “Yeah, and you don't have anybody here to hold me so you can hit me.”

This was met with a frown from Mary Rose. “Fahn,” she said. “You wanna hit me? Go ahead, sweetheart. Hit me.”

Alicia hesitated, so Mary Rose called her with a hand motion. Alicia pulled back the club to swing, and cautiously walked around the couch.

“H-hey, Alicia,” interrupted Kirk, standing up. “I can-”

Alicia shook her head. This was her chance. Like Chase suggested, she'd show Kirk how strong she could be. “No. Thanks, Kirk, but this is between me and h-her.”

Mary Rose had another laugh at that. Alicia stopped in front of her. She suspended the club in the air, waiting. She bit her lip.

“Well? Go ahead,” said Mary Rose. “Whack me.”

Awkwardly, Alicia decided to go for it. She swung the club down at Mary Rose, but the swing was slow. Mary Rose easily reached a hand up and caught the steel shaft in her hand.

“That's it?” snickered Mary Rose. “Was that practice? Come on, that was practice.” She shoved the club away, and Alicia with it. Alicia almost tripped over herself. “Try it fer real this time.”

Alicia felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment. Kirk had seen that. She couldn't bear to look at him, to see his reaction to her impotent strike.

“What's the matter? Ah showed you what a real swing feels like, remember?” patronized Mary Rose. Alicia felt a throb of pain from the lump on her head. “Use that as a frame o' reference. Try hittin' me like that. Just try. Go ahead.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Alicia frowned as Mary Rose's barbs bit into her. She'd do better than try. She summoned her determination and flung herself forward, hoisting the club high, and bringing it down much harder this time.

Mary Rose caught it again. She smiled, closed her hand around the shaft, and yanked it out of Alicia's hands. “Oh!” cried Alicia, grabbing at the fleeing handle and only coming up with air.

“You got the grip strength of a five-year-old,” Mary Rose commented, flipping the club up to rest it on her shoulder. “City gals,” she said with disdain. She gently bounced the club up and down, looking the redhead over. “You ain't never worked a day in your life, have you?”

“I...I babysit on the weekends sometimes,” said Alicia feebly, realizing how insubstantial this defense was even as she said it.

Mary Rose just chuckled. “You really are a darlin' little thing. Annoyin', but it's hard to be mad at you fer too long. Tell you what. Ah'll do ya a favor. Even though ah already showed you what a real swing feels like...” She swung the club off her shoulder and got a good, solid grip on it, “ah am willin' ta be patient an' show you again. Maybe you'll get the pitcher this time!”

She swung the club. It sure looked like a real swing to Alicia. It was probably moving five times as fast as the one Alicia had offered.

Alicia jumped back from it. Mary Rose swung again, and Alicia leapt back further, her cheerleader grace alighting her on top of the back of Kirk's couch. Mary Rose swung at Alicia's ankles. Alicia dodged with a backflip off the back of the couch, landing neatly on her feet.

But Mary Rose was a cheerleader too. She impressed Alicia by clearing the couch in one flip, bringing the club down straight at her redheaded rival as she descended.

Alicia strafed to the right. The head of the club hit the carpet with a loud whack. From there, Mary Rose drew a diagonal line straight into Alicia's side.

Alicia could not dodge quickly enough. The club struck her hard in the bottom rib. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as she stumbled to the floor.

Mary Rose raised the club high, and all Alicia had time to do was curl herself up and put her hands behind her head to protect herself.

Whack. The club hit her in the arm. Whack. Another body blow, this time on the back. Alicia cried out with each hit, not strong enough to subdue these sounds of vulnerability. She couldn't understand how Chase could take hits like this and stay standing. This was the worst pain she had ever felt.

Mary Rose hit her in the side again. “Lookit you, curled up there. You're pathetic.” She didn't sound gloating or triumphant. Instead, she sounded frustrated, angry at Alicia for not showing more strength. Whack. “You're a weak little girl. Weak and soft and timid. This is who that boy picked over me? You don't deserve a man like that. You DON'T!”

It was hard for Alicia to think while she was being pummeled, but Mary Rose's words found gaps between strikes to take hold in Alicia's brain. Maybe she didn't deserve Kirk. Maybe he did deserve someone stronger, someone cooler. Maybe he knew it. Maybe that was why he was her second choice for Harvest.

But then, as soon as she felt herself push these self-defeating thoughts too far, something inside her pushed back. It pushed back harder than Mary Rose could ever swing a club. The same intangible quality that made her a natural cheer captain shouted: No! She wasn't going to take this lying down. She deserved Kirk. She wasn't going to just roll over and lose. She was going to fight, fight, fight!

“Alright, that's it,” said Kirk. He rushed toward them, unable to watch any longer, “Knock it off-”

Mary Rose ignored him, swinging the club again. This time, she was aiming right at Alicia's head.

Alicia moved. Pushing herself up with her left forearm, she whipped her face and right hand around to challenge the attack head-on.

Whap! She caught the head of the club in her hand. It hurt, enough to spark a fresh drip of tears, but she just clenched her teeth and bore it.

Mary Rose looked astonished. She tried to retract the club again, but before she could, Alicia closed her hand around the head. Mary Rose yanked, and yanked again. She couldn't break Alicia's grip.

Alicia stood up and yanked back. Mary Rose, caught off balance, was pulled towards her, and at the same time, Alicia whipped up a leg to stomp her foot against Mary Rose's stomach, pushing her bodily away.

Pulled one way and pushed in another, something had to give, and it was Mary Rose's fingers. She let go of the club's handle and was forced backwards. Doubled over and coughing heavily, she clutched her stomach.

Alicia took a few steps back, putting some space between them. She held the club in front of her, putting a weapon between them as well. “S-sorry,” she said, a bit surprised at what she'd done. “Are you okay?” Mary Rose glared at her but could say nothing, still wheezing for air.

As soon as she caught her breath enough to do so, she charged at Alicia. Alicia raised the club in warning, and Mary Rose stopped in her tracks.

“You'd better go,” said Alicia. “I d-don't want to hit you, but I'm not scared of you, either, and I won't let you hurt me or Kirk.”

Mary Rose hesitated, sizing Alicia up. “You're not scared of me, huh?” asked Mary Rose. Alicia sure didn't look scared. The redhead's aura had completely changed. Rather than timid and uncertain, she seemed to radiate strength and willpower. “S-so what? I ain't scared of you, neither!”

Alica pulled the club back further and ran at her. Terrified, Mary Rose scampered to the door.

“F-fine. Whatever. I'll go,” said Mary Rose, humiliated. She looked at Kirk, then back at Alicia, then threw the door open. “You want him that bad, you can have him. You win. You're better than me. Go tell all your little friends about it.”

Alicia could have just let her storm out, but she didn't. She spoke up. “I'm not better than you. I don't want to be and I don't believe I am.”

Mary Rose stopped halfway out the door and looked over her shoulder at Alicia. Seeing she had the blonde's attention, Alicia lowered her golf club and went on. “I'm sorry I told you if you practice harder and improve yourself you could be great at cheerleading. I can see why that was condescending, but I promise I didn't mean it that way. All I meant is that there's nothing holding you back from meeting your goals. You're strong, determined, and beautiful, Mary Rose. You don't need to judge your worth against anybody else's successes. You have all the tools at your disposal to do anything you want, if you just focus on you, and don't put unnecessary energy into worrying about others and viewing them as competitors to be destroyed.”

“Like you don't do the same to me,” scoffed Mary Rose. “We're on opposing squads.”

“That's true, we are,” said Alicia, “And I do see you as a competitor, you're right. But I don't want to destroy my competitors. When I look at you, I see someone who inspires me to try harder. The strength of my competition gives me a reason to keep striving, so I can compete at their level. I want to beat you, but I don't want to do it by breaking you down. I want to do it by building myself up. That's what being an athlete is.”

Mary Rose was looking away from Alicia. Her hand was motionless on Kirk's doorknob as she stood in pensive silence for a moment, reflecting on her rival's words. Then, she laughed. “Whatever. Have fun with yer boyfriend. Next time we meet, we'll see if you're still so tough in a REAL fight, where ya can't cheat by fightin' back!”

With that, she left, shutting the door behind her. Alicia sighed, grateful it was over. She let the golf club fall to the carpet.