Chapter Seven
April 18th, 10:01 PM
Erin turned away, but not far enough. The bullet slammed into her left shoulder, spinning her around and down to her knees. Her hand immediately went to her upper arm.
"Augh!" she cried.
She'd been shot! For the first time! Blasted at point blank by Todorov! Ahh! How? Why? She'd been shot! Oh God!
She was so gripped by terror that it took a second for her to realize: she wasn't in pain.
She looked over at her shoulder. There was no blood or bone. Just a small dart, sticking from her blue spandex like a metallic mosquito. Erin plucked it from her skin and threw it to the floor.
"That all you got, Todorov?" she said, rising unsteadily to her feet.
Todorov nodded. "That's all I need."
Erin stepped toward him, and the ground felt uncertain, like she was walking in an inflatable bounce house. She brought her hand to her head. The lights and smoke were suddenly disorienting.
"What did you put in there?" she muttered.
"Just a light tranquilizer, my own recipe," Todorov said, smirking. "Something to slow you down a little bit."
Erin tried to take another step. Moving her boot felt like moving a concrete block. She brought it up, and immediately back down. She placed her hands on her thigh, trying to get her leg going, but there was no strength in her muscles. She felt like she was hardening, turning into bone.
"You bastard," she mumbled. Even her tongue felt numb.
"Mr. Hammerson has designed a pretty incredible series of obstacles for you," Todorov said, meandering toward Erin. "It's just a shame you won't even be getting past me. Little old me!"
He had arrived within a couple feet of her. His eyes were examining her body, which stood almost completely inert, her hands still fastened to her thigh, her boots still locked into the floor.
"Come on, Blue Lynx!" Erin thought. "You've got to MOVE!"
"Seems like my recipe is working pretty well," Todorov said, poking Erin in the bicep. "You're practically frozen in place."
Erin wasn't quite frozen. She could flex her fingers, and was sliding her hands up to her belt as Todorov spoke, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"Such a fine young specimen," Todorov said, pacing in a circle around Erin, flicking her hair with his fingers. "A true exemplar of feminine beauty and strength."
"What... are... you... talking... about?" Erin said. Speaking can become as difficult as moving.
"Just look at this posterior," Todorov continued, crouching down behind Erin. She suddenly felt his fingers pinching her butt. She tried to squirm away, but her boots still refused to budge. Whatever Todorov put in that drug, it was potent. At this point, Todorov could put his hands anywhere he liked, and Erin would only be able to whine in protest.
"I'll bet you work out every day. Smart girl," Todorov said, once again walking around to face Erin. "Enjoy your youth while you can."
"Thanks... for... the... lecture... Old... man."
Her fingers were now prying at the flaps of her belt pockets. "Keep looking at my ass," Erin thought. "Keep drooling over my 'feminine beauty'..."
Todorov's eyes flashed. "Oh no, you don't," he said, grabbing Erin's wrists and, with almost no resistance from the Blue Lynx, pulling them away from her belt.
"No!" Erin cried.
"No toys for you, Blue Lynx," Todorov said, yanking Erin's arms behind her back.
She couldn't make any sort of move without Todorov noticing. How was she possibly going to get out of this jam?
"Think, Erin. Think. You can't move. But you can still talk. You've got to talk him into... Something. You've got to work on him, somehow."
"Mr. Hammerson said I was just the primer," Todorov said. "He said I was just going to warm you up. I told him I could do better than that. And now, you're totally helpless."
He waved his hands up at the security camera. "You see this, Brent?" he shouted. "Looks like I've beaten the Blue Lynx. So much for the Gauntlet."
"You... haven't... beaten...me..." Erin muttered, sensing an opening. "You've... done... nothing."
"What's that?" Todorov asked, turning back to Erin. "I've done nothing?"
"You... couldn't... beat... me... if... your... life... depended... on... it..."
"Doubting me, Blue Lynx?" Todorov grinned. "I ought to knock some sense into you."
"Try... it... you... wimp..."
Todorov stepped toward Erin, wound back his fist, and brought it forward, punching Erin in the chest. She absorbed the blow with a small cry of pain, toppling over backward and falling onto her butt.
"How'd you like that?" Todorov said, shaking his fist out.
"Pretty... pathetic..." Erin said. She sat on the ground, still sluggish and defenseless, but looser, somehow, as if Todorov's punch had knocked away the drug's effect.
"I'll show you," Todorov said. He bent over and lifted Erin up by her armpits, standing her upright once more. He then wound back his fist for a second time and again threw it into Erin's body, this time catching her in the abdomen. Erin let out an "Oof!" as she crumpled forward onto her knees.
"Still feeling tough?" Todorov asked.
Erin nodded her head slowly. "Yeah," she said, feeling more strength returning to her muscles. "You're... a... lightweight."
Todorov's face turned red. He slapped Erin hard with the back of his hand, spinning her down to the floor.
"Young lady," he said, trying to regain his composure. "That's no way to speak to your elders."
He reached down and snatched a handful of Erin's hair, pulling her face up from the ground, forcing her into a kneeling position.
"I'll teach you how to respect me," Todorov said. "I'll take off that mask and we'll see who's the tough one."
Todorov gripped Erin's head with one hand and moved his other toward her face. Erin grimaced as Todorov's fingers brushed her cheek, zeroing in on the blue fabric shielding her secret identity.
"You seeing this, Brent?" Todorov called, turning his head around to face the security camera. "I'm about to unmask her! Who would've thought it would be me who'd do it?"
He slid his thumb into Erin's mouth, pulling down her lower lip.
"Now we'll get to see that beautiful young face as nature intended," Todorov laughed.
But Erin made the first move. She chomped down on Todorov's thumb, biting into his skin, tasting warm blood on her tongue.
"AIIIIYYYYYEEEEEE!!!" Todorov squealed. He tried to pull his hand back, but Erin wouldn't let go. She'd clamped down on Todorov like a pit bull, and the doctor released her head in a panic, allowing her to jump to her feet. Still hooked on Todorov's hand, Erin threw her fists up, punching wildly at her foe, hitting his body with slow but powerful jabs. After several hits, Erin opened her mouth, and Todorov brought his bloody hand to his face, gawking at the deep wound made by the Blue Lynx's teeth.
"You fucking... bit me!" Todorov screamed. "You fucking bit me!"
Erin ducked low and sprang forward, pushing her shoulder into Todorov's belly. He fell backward, his hand spraying blood, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Erin mounted his writhing body, pushing aside his hands, and dug into his coat pocket. She pulled out the pistol with which she had recently been blasted.
"Your recipe needs some work," Erin said, looking at the gun. "It doesn't seem to work on me."
Todorov scowled. "Give me my gun," he said, pushing at Erin's legs, unable to move her an inch.
"If you insist," Erin said.
She stood up, pointed the pistol down, and fired three darts into Todorov's chest. Todorov shivered with each dart's impact, convulsed for a bit, and then went slack. He was unconscious.
Erin tossed the gun into a corner of the smoky room. Her body hadn't fully recovered from the drug, but she felt good. She could run, she could jump, she could fight.
"I need to keep moving," she thought.
She took a glance up at the security camera, stepped over Todorov's frozen body, and opened the black door to the next stage.
On to Chapter Eight
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