When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, eventually one has to give way. That sounds a lot nicer than saying when a girl’s head’s slammed into a wall, one of them’s going to break before the other. Jia Crawford’s really glad the wall gives way first, though not before bloodying her skull. A chunk of her hair’s torn away and her hand instinctively grabs at the wound.
Every time she tries to develop a strategy to face the dozen people forming to attack her it falls apart before she can get started. If she manages to isolate one or two of them and gain any sort of edge others grab her by her shoulders and toss her across the room. They don’t seem to have any guilt over winning a lopsided fight. The alternative’s losing one.
Pulling her head from the wall, blood’s already dripping down her face. She may have started a fight she can’t win; they have her completely surrounded. She tries to remember what her mother’s been teaching her in recent weeks about their family’s martial arts style. Stay calm, don’t rush in. Let your opponents make a mistake. A lot of times a fight isn’t decided by ability but rather by who can avoid an error the longest.
Two of them come at her at once but she spins away from the first and ducks under a punch from the second. Not ready to let her get an upper hand, another rushes her from behind. Leaping into the air, she catches them with a high backwards kick, knocking them to the ground.
One of the two girls in the group pulls a knife from her pocket and flicks it open. She starts advancing toward Jia who starts to backpeddle, looking for something to defend herself with. Rocco, the leader of the group, sees this and blocks the woman’s path. “No weapons, we don’t want to spill blood all over the place. We have to clean that up and we don’t know who’s going to walk in while we do it.”
The girl seems taken by surprise. She stares Rocco down but flips her knife upside down and drives it into a table next to them. Pressing her advantage, Jia rushes toward her, pushing past Rocco, and sends a kick into the center of her knee. Stumbling backwards, the girl somehow stays on her feet. Ending up in front of a booth, Jia keeps pushing forward and tackles her onto the table. She starts raining blows into the woman’s ribs but before she can get many in two sets of strong hands are grabbing her and throwing her aside.
Facing her opponents, she starts to feel this is a hopeless fight. There’s still ten of them and she’s starting to tire. There’s too many to take on at once even if they won’t shoot or stab her for fear of leaving evidence. Her eyes wildly glance around the room, trying to plan some sort of retreat.
Then Jillian’s coming at her, her eyes on fire and her red jacket gone. A friend of her brother Shin, she pulled the woman aside and warned her to get out of here before the fireworks started. Until now she thought her advice was taken. The kick flying at her chest says otherwise. She blocks the hit and deflects it into a chair but her poor odds just got even worse.
Sparring back and forth, it’s obvious she’s met the closest thing to an individual match she’s going to find in this dump. Despite her off the wall appearance, a pink mohawk and clothes filled with holes in a factory rather than through wear, her fighting style shows the discipline of someone with years of experience. She’s graceful and confident. The others back down when isolated, knowing they can only beat Jia with numbers. Jillian believes she can win on her own.
They push back and forth through the room, parrying blow after blow. Furniture splinters as they push it into each other. The two seem evenly matched. Over time though, Jia starts to gain a slight upper hand. Her recent training with her mother has taught her patience, how to let a fight develop before making her move. Her opponent has skill but Jia has more. The rest of the crowd has backed off at this point, clearly recognizing how much better equipped Jillian is to handle the situation. They cheer and shout their encouragement.
Coming in for a grab, Jillian’s eyes go wide as Jia counters and for a moment their heads are side by side. In that moment Jillian quietly says, “Just go with this and we’ll get out of here. Don’t hit me in the stomach either.”
They break apart as Jillian shoves her back into the bar. From then on though, Jillian starts telegraphing her moves. Not in a major way. Someone without fight experience wouldn’t notice. Jia knows what’s coming though and after realizing what’s happening she returns the favor. It’s enough to turn their fight into a ballet of fists and keep them both upright. Every time Jillian lands a blow the crowd cheers. Whenever she’s hit they boo. You’d think this was a sporting event.
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As they criss cross through the bar the fight starts to drag. It gets easy, to the point Jia’s mind starts to wander and she wonders what their end game is here. They’re not getting anywhere and already the crowd’s growing restless, eager for blood. When they break for a moment she gets her answer. The faint sound of a police siren in the distance hits her ears and tells her help’s on the way. She just has to hold out until they arrive. Her distraction at the sound causes her to take a blow in the nose.
Shaking off the pain and giving enough warning that Jillian can prepare, she grabs the woman by the arm and tosses her onto a table. Jumping on top of her with a knee on either side of the woman’s hips, she winds a punch to the head up, but pauses long enough to give the woman beneath her a chance to dodge. She never gets the chance as a man grabs her by the shoulders and heaves her across the room. She slides through several bar stools and her head bounces off the bar.
Clearly annoyed, the bartender comes rushing out from behind the bar. “Careful with the equipment idiot. If I have to replace the bar itself it’s going to cost you a fortune.”
Rushing at the man who pulled Jia away, Jillian slaps him across the face. His head snaps back. “Stay out of my fight. I don’t need your help.”
A cleared throat silences the room. All eyes turn to Rocco. “That’s fine as long as you’re winning but get to it. We need to end this.” Through all of this Jia stays down, trying to catch her breath and gather the strength for a final push.
Jillian ignores Rocco’s words and comes her way again. Jia climbs back to her feet, steadying her legs. They resume their fight. This time though Jillian doesn’t seem to be telegraphing nearly as much. She has time to react but not enough to fully avoid some blows. A few hits don’t even give her that, landing with force and causing her to buckle. What’s changed? As she throws a high kick, instead of ducking under it as anticipated, Jillian grabs the leg and ferociously tosses Jia over the bar into a wall full of alcohol. Several shelves give way. Bottles shatter and glass sprinkles to the ground around her. A shard from one of the bottles bounces into her face and cuts a jagged line across her cheek. Fresh red blood once again runs down her face as liquid pools, soaking her clothes and making her smell like she’s ending a week long bender.
The sirens are close now and the bar starts reacting. A general panic starts rising among the crowd. One of the men asks, “What the hell are the cops doing out here?”
Another says, “Did the girl call them before this started? She knew she was coming here. This might get bad. I can’t go back to jail.”
“We all need to get out of here, right now.”
Trying to calm the crowd, Rocco pushes his way into the center of the room with his hands up. When the panic continues he grabs a bar stool and shatters it over the bar. That gets their attention. “Everyone needs to relax right now. We don’t have any reason to worry. A couple of you have warrants. Take off, now. The rest of you can calm down. We’re just hanging out in our favorite bar when some crazy chick jumps us. We haven’t done anything wrong, even if she is a vigilante.”
Walking to Rocco’s side, Jillian whispers something in his ear. He goes pale. “New plan guys, I want everyone out of here now. Get to the cars. Go wherever you need to but don’t get caught.”
Still in a lot of pain, Jia climbs to her feet. She didn’t go through all of this to let the group get away. Jillian comes for her again, circling behind the bar, and this time she’s not focused on technique. She just rushes her and tackles her to the ground, their bodies splashing among the liquid and glass. On top of her, she moves their faces together. “Stay down and pretend you’re unconscious. You can’t handle this many and they will shoot you if they don’t see another way out. You walk out of here alive if you stay down. Don’t be an idiot.”
A hard blow to the face takes the choice away. She doesn’t lose consciousness but the whole world starts spinning. A weight climbs off of her and by the time she can get back to her knees, the bar’s empty except for a shell shocked bartender. Trying to get up fast makes the pain worse. She struggles not to slip and fall again amongst the liquor.
After a minute she feels confident enough in her legs to stumble around the bar and past the wrecked furniture. She slams through the busted screen door leading to the front porch. The night air’s crisp and she can see fireflies in the newly empty parking lot. Her soaked clothes hit the chilly night air and she shivers. The last of the cars are gone but she can see police lights in the distance, though they’re still not that close. A bright green car comes roaring back from down the street.
Slamming on the breaks with a squeal, she can see Jillian sitting in the driver’s seat with her window down. Did she come back to provide a getaway? As Jia moves toward the car, trying not to move too fast because of the pain in her ribs, Jillian puts a hand up to halt her. “I did you a favor in there because your brother’s a friend. That’s a one time thing. I don’t stick my neck out for people. I scared Rocco enough that he’s going to get out of Napa. If your brother hangs around here they’ll probably leave him alone for now. That needs to be good enough. Don’t dig into this any further. You won’t like where it leads.” With that she stomps on the gas, roaring into the night, getting away before the police cars start pulling into the parking lot.