The classroom I had fifth period geography in was no different than most at Kung Fu, except for one thing, it was a corner/end room. That meant it was obviously two things: on the end of the square building and in a corner, which also meant it was less accessible than most rooms, and harder to get out of Two of the four walls were solid red brick and one of 'em had a skinny window. Even though it was on the first floor, the main building was scrunched up against an excavated hill, so it was really a two-story drop to the ground below, but that assumed you could get out the window that was made of crisscrossing, steel-tinsel-reinforced glass in the first place. The other two walls were standard penny-pinching drywall and thin as saltine crackers.
In this particular classroom, the chalkboard was on the redbrick south wall. A corner triangle of it had been hacked off with a machete once, then stuck right back on with a couple of brackets. There were world maps attached to the top of the board and the room was the shape of a rectangle, about fifteen big paces from the north wall to the chalkboard and twenty-five paces from the whitewashed drywall to the west brick wall. Technically, not a whole lot of room to work in when there are twenty color-coded chairs with a right-handed arm desk attached. The biggest desk in the room was for the teacher, wooden and bolted to the floor right in front of the chalkboard and facing the students' desks.
I sat in the middle, just my luck. Worse luck for my Wolf friends, who were scrunched in the back corner, but probably even worse for the ex-Wave-now-Wolf who was near the door, and because of that, nearer to every single adversary. Perhaps the only good news for me was that the two Wolves in the corner were twin brothers and they were pretty good. Much better at fighting as a duo, but I had no idea how they were going to hold up against this many.
"Don't kill her!" the turncoat ex-Wave screamed. "She's Ridley's."
Great. Now I was property. A frigging Helen with no Troy, no walls either. And worse than that, the odds took a dive: 3 on 16.
In movie brawls, kind little bad guys wait their turn and come one by one, to get their asses kicked by the "overmatched" but noble and triumphant male hero. Fuck that. It sure as hell doesn't work that way at Kung Fu. Once the first move is made, kids organize themselves into small groups of three or four and surround on all sides if they have a clear path, kind of like animals that hunt in packs. Two sit back, kick you in vulnerable places when you're engaged in combat with one or two of the others, and if you slow down enough, you get jumped on: law of the jungle. Sloppy and frantic, hard breathing and ruthless, in close quarters the only rule of thumb was to never stop moving.
I weighed my options as they formed a quick perimeter and slowly closed in. One, escaping via the back window was out. Too thin to squeeze through, it would take way too long to break it out and then they'd be on me. Two, taking a hostage was definitely out, because no one would care if I shanked someone. There was not a single person in the room important enough to take because we were all sophomores, plus one or two freshmen. Three, I could reach the light switch and hope for confusion, but that wasn't a possibility because it was next to the door, the only exit, anchored firmly in the east drywall. Besides, the darkness would've been negligible, not even worth it. Four, clear a space and get busy, when I'd drawn enough to me, track back, and hit that door fast. It looked like it was option four. Always remember: in group fighting situations, you must stay at least five moves ahead, that's critical. Use combos. Know what moves flow to what. Kick to throw, use your opponents' bodies and superior numbers against them. If you can't stay five moves ahead, I'm sorry, but consider yourself swarmed. Like hyenas on an antelope.
The twin Wolves glanced at me, sharing the same look in their green eyes, and we knew we were on the same page. I'd take the lead and they'd bring up the rear, taking people off my backside as quickly as possible. If they could.
The Fists grouped left and started clearing desks off to the side, stacking them, being slow, you know, letting the tension build. To the right were Runners. They were the first surge as they moved two at a time down the aisle to my left and straight down my aisle after sweeping past the teacher's desk. They had already divided me from the twins. I couldn't wait any longer.
While facing forward, I claimed the first move by kicking a desk into the waist of the advancing Runner to my left and he must not've expected it because he fell over it awkwardly and smacked himself bad on the tile and started bleeding. Lucky shot. No time to dwell though, another Runner took his place. I stomped on her toes as she scrambled over her bleeding family member and then brought my plastic-knuckled fist right through her glass jaw. She wasn't out, but she was malleable enough for me to snag by the collar and waist with both hands and hip-toss her toward the advancing Runners straight ahead of me. Her flying body took one out and impeded another, which fU Wf ¿WOOL bought me enough time to duck the fist coming at my head from behind. Go for the body, son, the head is too small a target sometimes. Staying low, I finished with a hard elbow to the unprotected urethral area right above the cup of my unlucky adversary and he dropped all his water right there and went down in a lump with possible internal bleeding. Three for me.
The twins' score: one. They'd gotten a Runner in a double headlock and somehow had cleared enough room to spin him and sling him at the oncoming others. Not the prettiest, but effective. They were getting closer to me, which was good and bad. The good: they could protect my back. The bad: I was running out of space and the Runners were creeping in along the north drywall, coming at me from three sides now.
One smarty kid tried to jump on a rickety desk and right before he settled his weight on it, I kicked it out from underneath him and as he fell in front of me, I smashed his skull with my plastic knuckles on the way down. He made a quick red spot on the floor. At that point, I kicked another desk toward the group coming toward me from the teacher's desk and I blocked a high kick from an overzealous Runner and absolutely smashed her in the solar plexus, so hard that she lost her breath as her lungs turned into a vacuum. I didn't even have to finish her off, just had to jump out of the way as her buddy smacked her in the throat trying to hit me high.
What little air was left escaped from her like a punctured balloon. Like cutting the string with scissors but accidentally getting the tied-off rubber part too: she just crumbled. Her stunned buddy, on the other hand, caught the heel of my boot in his nose and I heard it burst, like a snapped carrot, as I was using my momentum to swing down low into a leg sweep and take out the guy behind me. Once he was on the ground, I punished him with a swift neck chop. I shouldn't've done it though because I was in a bad position. I was too low and the others were coming.
I looked up to see a knee coming down at face level. I put my arms up to block and started to get my momentum going forward to roll but it was the quick thinking of one of the twins to smack my attacker with a tipped-over desk right before he hit me. As it was, he just fell on me and I threw a quick triangle choke around his neck to put him out. At that point, I was hauled up to my feet by both twins to see the second wave coming at me, straight on. After five or six kids, I should've been dead tired. But adrenaline makes you do funny things, I could feel every muscle fiber in my body. So far so good though. Us: nine. Them: zero. Odds: 3 against 7. It was becoming doable.