Tayte and Ryder sat on two random chairs they found in the venue, staring at the crowd scrambling their way home.

“A freak accident she had when she was a teenager left her paralyzed from the waist down,” Ryder started. “It kinda put a dent in her dream of being a travel blogger. I met her in Sugarmaple at a coffee shop. An ambitious girl like that had no place in a boring town like that. She had never even left the state… it wasn’t fair.”

“Did she know about your… job?” Tayte asked.

“As a getaway driver for criminals? Believe it or not, she dabbled in the criminal underworld as well; working as an Informant. Informants are a big deal for grave-robbers and those who can get the most accurate information in the shortest amount of time are like blood diamonds,” Ryder said and took off his rose-tinted glasses, showing his sad eyes. “All her work was done from her computer. Even without leaving Sugarmaple, she was one of the best modern-day Informants. Me falling head over heels for someone way out of my league, I made promises I didn’t know if I could keep or not. Maybe I believed I did, but it was naïve all the same. I told her I would take her wherever she wanted to go until my van breaks down and then I’d keep on getting new ones until I break down. Anywhere I couldn’t take the van, I would carry her there. Rain, snow, blistering heat, over chasms, up mountains, and down dangerous slopes. I said all that with a straight-face. It didn’t matter to me. I was going to make it happen.”

“All while being a driver for criminals?”

Ryder let out a shaky chuckle and lowered his head. “Why not? While traveling, I could do jobs in my free time to rack up some more cash. We drove around the states and saw everything we could think of. From the cliches to areas that maybe nobody cares about. Oh, she was so happy and that was enough, you know? I didn’t realize what I really wanted until I saw the happiness on her face. It was all I needed and for the first time, I everything felt… whole. It was a bizarre feeling. I didn’t want anything else, I didn’t need anything else. And then Europe happened…”

“Where did it happen…?”

“France… Paris… oh, the irony. I mean, we had to hit the city of love for our world tour, right? That just made sense.” Ryder clenched his eyes shut, grabbing onto his knees as he let out labored breaths. The pain of regret lined his face. “Sometimes I forget that not always somebody is chasing me or that I need to drive as fast when I get in the car. We were just going to the bakery for fuck’s sakes. Why was I driving so fast? I ignored all the signs and just sped through the intersection like I always do, but my senses weren’t as alert as they should. How could I be with her right next to me? It was on her side… she didn’t have a chance. She was gone before the ambulance showed up.”

Tayte stared at Ryder as he put his glasses back on and eyed the ground. She searched for empathy, but came up short, resorting to slowly stretching her hand out and brushing his shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” she forced herself to say, not believing a word that came out of her mouth. It was his fault indeed—but she couldn’t say that. No funeral director would say that to the loved one of the deceased… even though it is the correct thing to say. She had to keep those thoughts at bay.

Ryder grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. “I know what you’re thinking…”

Tayte braced herself for the worse.

“I am not going to try to convince you why I believe Vanessa’s soul is in that van.” He made a forced smile. “It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend you believe me.”

Tayte fought back the urge to rant over the millions of reasons why the thought was not only delusional but remarkably stupid. Like zipping an overly stuffed suitcase shut, she was halfway there, but if she pushed too hard, the zipper could come off and the whole case would burst open. She squeezed Ryder’s hand back and gave him the most empathetic look she could conjure (which was still a bit empty). “I don’t believe you,” she said coldly, “but I think it’s nice that you are able to love somebody to that point.”

Ryder snickered. “Have you ever been in love, Tayte?”

Tayte fished around in her mind and tried to come up with an image. Nothing turned up. She stayed quiet, looking away.

Ryder pulled his hand away and stood up. “Tayte, you said you are having fun with these Trials, but are they helping you find what you need?”

The muscles in Tayte’s legs and arms lock up. A knot formed in her throat as she opened her mouth to say something. Nothing came out.

“I hope these Trials really do make you happy and help you feel fulfilled.” Ryder stuffed his hands into his pockets and started walking. “Come on, let’s look for Chris and get home.”

Tayte had trouble getting up for a moment. A rush of thoughts she didn’t want to pay attention to kept her from moving. She let out a shriek of laughter.

Ryder stopped and looked back. “You okay…?”

Tayte pulled herself up, shaking, and then squeezed her arm until her bland demeanor returned. “I’m fine. Let’s go find Chris.” She walked forward.

Ryder joined. “Oh, and by the way, my name isn’t really ‘Ryder’,” he said. “It’s Darren. Darren Nneka.”

“Oh... well, nice to meet you Darren.”

###

Tayte nestled in the backseat, hugging her knees as she looked out the window, enjoying the sights of Jinja Road.

As the van passed by a flashy bar, Chris tapped Ryder on the shoulder. “Can we stop here? I need to go to the bathroom,” he asked.

“Why didn’t you go at the Theatre?” Ryder asked back.

“Because I didn’t need to go back then.”

“It seems like you waited for a bar to show up to ask,” Tayte said.

“Okay, I did. So what?” Chris snapped.

“Are you afraid of peeing outside now?” asked Ryder, a bit frustrated.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that… I just… uhm…”

“Ohhh, you need to poop,” Tayte blurted. “Make a poopy.”

Chris turned back to Tayte with the contempt and disappointment of a hundred dads wrapped up in one look.

Ryder stopped the car, chuckling. “Okay, go do your business, man.”

Chris angrily removed his seatbelt. “I’ll be quick,” he said. “You two stay in the car!”

“Why?” Ryder asked.

Chris jerked his head at Tayte and grunted, “You know why…” He stepped out of the van.

Ryder sighed and started messing around with the radio. “Any requests, Tatyana—?”

The back door slammed shut.

Tayte stepped into the bar and was immediately taken aback by the stench of alcohol and sweat in the air. The pub was decorated with regional instruments, idols, and masks; most of the furniture was made of bamboo. The jazz music continued, but the garbled chatter lowered as Tayte delved deeper into unknown territory, undaunted by the number of bloodshot eyes that went in her direction, whether it was hostile or lascivious. It was all the same amount of danger.

She stopped by the bar counter where a large, dark-skinned man was attending. He froze and stared in confusion.

“What is a drink that’s special to Uganda?” asked Tayte, taking a seat on the stool. “Something that you can only find here?”

The barman scratched his cheek as he stuttered. “Uhh… young lady. I don’t think you should be out drinking this late at night.” He glanced at his gazing customers. “Especially not here… are you alone? Wait, are you here with that other Asian?”

“Who—?”

A firm hand landed on her shoulder.

Tayte turned around and a tall Asian girl with a messy bob cut stood before her.

The girl gasped, looking down at Tayte. “Oh, my god… it’s you.” She said in her surprisingly high-pitched voice.

Tayte got off her seat and the top of her head barely reached the girl’s shoulders. She was taller than most of the muscular men in the bar and had a bandage over the bridge of her nose, some on her forehead, and on the cheeks of her cute, childlike face, like someone who just entered junior high. She wore an oversized, sporty blue jacket over her crop top that matched her large sneakers, and black high-waist running tights.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“When I heard how the others described you,” the girl added, “you were the first to pop up in my head, but I refused to believe it because the odds of that would be astronomical. And here I am looking right at you. It’s true. There’s no way I can doubt it now.”

Tayte analyzed her robust frame, trying to determine whether she was a preteen with a fully developed woman’s body or a woman with the face of a preteen. Either case leaves her with the voice of a child.

“Oh, I may look a little different. I cut my hair,” she said, running her fingers through her brown hair and looking away, “but it’s still me.” She blushed as she smiled.

Tayte stared in silence.

The girl’s smile faded. “Wait, do you not know who I am?”

“Am I… supposed to?”

The girl’s face scrunched slightly.

Tayte snapped her fingers. “I got it.”

The girl smiled once again, gave a chortle, and rubbed her hands together.

Tayte spun back to the bartender. “I just remembered something that I saw on a documentary once. Give me a waragi. I want that.”

The bartender stared, sighed, and then got to working on the drink.

Tayte turned back to the dejected girl. “Did my family help arrange a funeral for…?”

“No—!”

“Dammit!” a panicked voice shouted.

The girls looked over at Chris, who looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack as always.

Chris stood by the bathroom door, fastening his belt. “Tayte, what’re you doing…” he trailed off as he took notice of the shapely girl. “Tatsunori…”

“Chris.” Tatsunori replied.

“Oh!” Tayte exclaimed. She moved closer to Tastunori, making her back up.

Tatsunori blushed, trucking her hair behind her ear. “Finally…” she said under her breath.

“You’re a Fighter,” Tayte said to Tatsunori’s dismay. “In the Tombstone Trials. A former member of Post Mortem.”

Tatsunori’s face fell. “Yes, but…! That’s not all…” she lost the will to continue. “You don’t remember me…”

The bartender slammed the waragi drink on the bar counter. “Here ya go, miss.”

“Waragi?” Chris shouted. “That thing has more alcohol than all the water you have in your tiny body, Tayte. You’ll die!”

Tayte ignored Chris and focused on the statuesque. “How could I remember you? I’ve never met you before… waiiiit… were you one of the masked people at the museum?”

Tatsunori let out a shriek and kicked Tayte in the gut.

She bashed off the bar counter and fell face first into the ground.

“Tayte!” Chris shouted, running to her.

“Don’t you dare interfere, Chris!” Tatsunori barked, pointing at him. “That goes for all you assholes,” she yelled at the excited spectators. Her rage was difficult to perceive and confused them as her cute voice remained.

Tayte slowly pushed herself up, sharing a look with her new challenger. “I’m okay,” she said, happy tremors rising in her voice.

“She’s all mine,” Tatsunori hissed.

“Let’s run,” Chris whispered to Tayte.

Tayte gave him a look. “Her back’s to the exit. I don’t think that’s going to be easy.” She glanced at his gauzes. “You’re still hurt. Just sit back.” She pushed him back onto a stool and picked up one near her. Tayte raised the bamboo stool in her hands, charging at Tatsunori.

She was disarmed in seconds and took a powerful kick to the shin that almost caused her to topple over.

Tatsunori threw the stool to her side, where a pair of customers dodged the flying piece of furniture. She put her guard up and slid one foot back, striking a firm fighting stance while scowling at her opponent.

Tayte disregarded her tearful scowl coming from her dark brown eyes and focused on the stance. A strange sense of nostalgia took over.

In an eye blink, Tatsunori was right in front of Tayte, raising an angry first. Tayte blocked the quick strike with her face and then took a double kick to the chest. She recovered quickly and attempted to hit back; it was intercepted, and Tayte was overwhelmed with an onrush of perfectly executed punches and kicks that took her all around the bar. Once it was over, they were far from the spot where they started the fight.

“Did you let me hit you around like that?” Tatsunori asked, switching to a less defensive stance.

Tayte flashed her manic smile, swaying and chuckling—drunk with the pain and adrenaline.

“There it is,” said Tatsunori, switching back to a defensive stance.

Tayte looked over at a decorative pot on her side. A collection of dried bamboo stalks were sticking out of it. She pulled out two and tossed one forward.

Tatsunori caught it.

“Do you know how to fight with it?” Tayte asked.

Tatsunori smirked. “It’s just one insult after another. I’ll show you what happens when you forget, Tayte.”

Tayte gripped the bamboo, tossing it from one hand to another, feeling the weight in her palms, and started to spin it, then she attacked with the spins.

Tatsunori blocked the attacks, not making things any easier for her opponent as she swung back.

The girls went at it. Each trying to best the other with their unique array of techniques. Tatsunori got the first poke in a while, hitting the gray-haired lunatic in the chest.

As Tayte staggered back, Tatsunori charged forward, spinning her bamboo and then jumping for an overhead attack.

Tayte blocked and was pushed back into the bar counter. Panting, she noticed her waragi drink and took a swig. She winced, placing the cup back.

Tatsunori’s bamboo came swinging down, smashing the cup as Tayte spun out of the way.

The girl’s eyes met once again. Tatsunori walked up to Tayte and then the two began to walk in a circle. It was anybody’s move.

The invested spectators began to chant for their favorite fighter, even though several of them took a couple of bamboo strikes to the face.

“Gray-head!” one half of the bar yelled.

“Blue-Jacket!” the other half yelled.

Tayte spun and swung the stick at Tatsunori’s feet; she jumped over the sweep and struck Tayte across the face, knocking her to the ground.

As Tayte got up, Tatsunori snapped her stick into two with her knee and charged at Tayte with a whole new move set for her to keep up with. Somewhere between blocking and taking twice the damage of the hits, Tayte dropped her stick and grabbed her opponent’s wrist, forcing her to a halt.

“Having trouble keeping up, Tayte?” Tatsunori jeered.

Tayte said nothing and gripped onto Tatsunori’s jacket. She fell on her back, bringing Tatsunori along with her as she planted a foot on her stomach, flipping her into the air and out of the bar.

Tayte got back to her feet, picked up her long stick in one hand, and the other two short sticks in the other.

She stepped outside and found Tatsunori scrambling to her feet as the crowd spilled out from the bar and kept at a good distance to watch the skilled combatants.

Tayte moved up to Tatsunori and extended her sticks to her, earning her a nasty look.

“You mocking me?” Tatsunori said.

Tayte smiled. “Just take them back and let’s get back to it!”

Tatsunori snatched the weapons from her hands and started attacking. The two fought valiantly, swinging their sticks at each other at equal speed, tied on the number of blocks and strikes taken. The adrenaline of the brawl had them move into the middle of the road where speeding cars honked, screeched, and swerved around them. Neither of the girls dared to slow down.

A poorly timed strike from Tatsunori gave Tayte the chance to lock her in a hold using her stick and flipped her over onto the asphalt.

“Oh!” the crowd exclaimed in excitement.

Tatsunori grabbed her sticks and charged at Tayte with a war cry, amping up her aggression.

A massive, white SUV screeched to a stop before the girls, halting the battle for a second as they looked into the headlights and then back at each other. Tayte thwacked Tatsunori on her side and she hit the hood of the car; she didn’t stop there and swung the stick down at her.

Tatsunori dodged the attacks by moving swiftly to her right and then left. With a back roll, she was at the roof of the car.

Tayte ran up the hood of the car.

“Yuki-Onna!” Tatsunori shouted while dropping her sticks, and then an icy pole weapon jutted out from her thigh. She pulled it out quickly. It had a curved, frozen blade at the end.

Tayte halted with her foot on the windshield to gape at Tatsunori’s Relic.

“Naginatajutsu Yuki-Tatsumaki!”

A chill took over Tayte’s body, and she was ejected into the air, surrounded by frosty winds.

“Amazzi-go!” a voice shouted.

Chris caught Tayte in his arms mid-air with his wet shield on his back. They caromed off the edge of the roof of the bar and landed on the ground—Chris broke their fall.

Tayte rose and stared at Tatsunori up on the roof of the SUV—the driver stood by his vehicle, gaping at her.

Tatsunori spun her Relic proudly and made a stance, holding the weapon in her hands with the frigid blade pointing up. “Get some rest. You’re not at your best. Do whatever you have to do to get there. Let’s finish at the next checkpoint.” She hopped off the SUV and ran off.

“Kamaita—”

Chris grabbed her by the wrist and used her to pull himself up. “Tayte,” he rasped, “we really need to go. Now!”

Tayte turned back to him, wide-eyed, and then scanned the environment. The streets were filled with horrified, amazed, and curious Ugandans. Some were making calls. She heard running and turned to her side. Ryder was running up to them.

“What the hell is happening?”

“You failed to keep her in one place, that’s what!” Chris shouted. “Let’s get out of here before the cops show up.”

And so, the gang got the hell out of there.

As they ran back to Vanessa, flashes of an alley obscured Tayte’s mind—a memory she believed to have gotten rid of long ago forcibly rose from the deepest recesses and clarified until it was all that she could see, transporting her back there. Tayte stood before the backdoor of Vanessa, but her mind was far away, ignoring Chris’s screams.

She could smell the sweat and musty aroma of fresh blood that was in the air that night. At that moment, the sounds of a quiet voice wheezing and gasping for air, the city traffic in the distance, and the out-of-place cawing of a raven were all she could hear. The feel of goosebumps rising on her flesh as she eyed the pathetic figure of a girl lying on the ground, nearly beaten to death. Her bloated, mangled face was covered in blood, eyes swollen shut, nose bent to the side, and lips busted open.

“Tayte!” Chris screamed right into her ear.

Tayte flinched at the piercing attack into her eardrum and gawked at him. He was holding the door open.

“Get in, dammit!” He shouted, running out of vigor in his voice.

Tayte climbed in and the door was slammed shut. She stared at the wall of the van in silence, not reacting to anything as the van moved. She bit her lip and clenched tightly onto her knees as she jumped in and out of the memory.

Oh, she remembered all too well.