Truck tackles another. Destiny continues to hide behind her people. What a joke. To lose to her is a tragedy. My insides burn at the thought. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to pull this off. Pride usually gets the best of me and it’s directing me to win. I’m reminded again of the task when I take a quick glance at the Towers.
“You’re mine.”
The massive giant heading my way is Destiny’s second- in-command. She goes by the name La Chiquita. There’s nothing small about her. There’s only one weak spot on her, her thick ankles.
La Chiquita grabs me by my collar and lifts me off my feet. I struggle to break free. The girl has been working on her biceps. Truck wields a bat and breaks it on La Chiquita’s back. It only causes her to slightly loosen her grip. La Chiquita doesn’t even wince. She just laughs.
“Damn, Chiquita, cut back on the sueño mixers for once,” I say, then kick her while Truck is crouched behind her so she topples over. Before La Chiquita gets up, I grab my baton and swing it at her ankles. Chiquita coils, screaming bloody murder as I hit her again.
Finally, the path is clear. Destiny is left unguarded. I glance at Déesse. She speaks to Santo. There must be a question of whether I’m going to go through with the plan. With the adrenaline rush, it almost seems too easy not to.
“You punk ass. When’s the last time you’ve been in a fight, you cow?” I yell. There’s no one left to protect Destiny. Sweat pours from her, clamping down her ratty hair. “How much have you stolen from innocent people? You’re the losing end of this crew.”
The crowd can’t get enough. I enjoy seeing Destiny cower. Humiliating her is easy. I have to let her win, no matter what. Focus, girl. Focus. Destiny has to win.
I stride up to her and punch her on her side. Wrong move. My hand crumbles. She’s wearing protective armor. With my strong hand useless, she flops her body on top of mine, sending me reeling back to the ground. She’s going to try to smother me.
“Where’s Santo now?” she grunts.
Her body reeks of greasy food and armpits. She’s going to kill me with her stench. I head butt her. When she doesn’t move, I try biting her ear. She pulls away before I give a good crunch. There isn’t much time. She barrels over to me again, wielding a cap. She throws it. I dodge out of the way.
That’s when I see him. The ANT we took down the other day. The one with the charm. He’s here and he’s walking over to the field, ignoring the violent action before him. The ANT’s stride is long and determined. His eyes are wild, and he’s looking right at me.
“I need to speak to Déesse.” His screams are guttural and deep. A desperate person. Toilers try to stop him from entering the field. He shrugs them off. Others laugh and think at least this can be a comical obstacle to the throwdown. I’m not laughing.
With my mind distracted for a second, Destiny takes the opportunity to punch me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. Even while she hits me with one jackhammer after another, I strain my neck to see where the ANT goes.
“I need more sueños!” He grabs at the toilers around him. Clawing at them, determined to be heard. They push him away. He is a pesky nuisance.
The ANT forgoes entering the field and instead argues with the guards. He tries to get the attention of Santo, and it appears as if he’s succeeding. Santo no longer watches me getting my ass kicked. Instead, he has turned to see what the commotion is with the ANT.
I flip away from Destiny for a second and run toward Santo. I can’t have the ANT mess my game up when it comes to giving Déesse the charm. Whatever lie he spews might hinder any progress. I barrel toward him to shut him up.
I’ve forgotten the one thing I’ve taught the LMCs: Never give your opponent your back. Destiny grabs my ankle, and I fall flat on my face. Gravel etches into my skin. She pounds my back. Holy Mega.
I look up. Santo leans toward the ANT. What is he saying?
Destiny lets go of my legs after a smashing kick. I stand up to knock her out, completely forgetting my initial plan to lose. She stands her ground with a baton in her hand, the exact same one I used to pull down her own people. Destiny is about to take a big swing, right to the side of my skull. There’s only a second, a second that transforms into an eternity as I watch Destiny’s demonic grin display her pink mouth guard. She takes a swing. Everything goes in slow motion. The baton comes down, down, down.
And then it’s lights out.
CHAPTER 6
THE HEALING GAME
My hand reaches up and finds my head completely wrapped in bandages. The events leading to my current situation come to me in succeeding snapshots. Although I feel drugged, the image of Destiny smashing my head slowly comes into focus. How did I make it out of there without brain damage or death?
A tired toiler hovers over me, probably counting the hours when she can go home.
“Water,” I half whisper, half grunt to her. The toiler ignores me.
Destiny clocked me because I was too busy trying to stop the ANT from reaching Santo. So dumb. The ANT doesn’t have anything on me. Now I’m stuck in this room with my head wrapped up. Who knows what else is missing from my memory. I let an ANT get the best of me, and the worst part is, I got sucker punched by Destiny. I was supposed to lose this fight. The hope was to make myself not look like too much of a chump. Who knows how bad off Las Mal Criadas are. Did I screw our chances to get to the Towers?
“Hey, you. Water.”
The toiler pretends not to hear me. She fiddles around with a tube connected to my arm. Never once addresses me or offers a drink. She exits before I can gather the strength to throw something at her.
Everything hurts. Even my eyebrows. At least I’m not dead. I got to get out of here. I don’t feel safe. I try to lift myself off the bed. The pain is too much. There’s no way I’ll be able to leave. I search the table next to me, hoping to find a syringe I can use as a weapon. This tube connected to whatever poison they’re pumping into me has to go.
As I draw my breath in to pull the tube out of my arm, I hear the rattling of the doorknob. I’ve got to move. One. Two. Three. Pull.
Nena storms into the room, rushing to my bedside with tears and snot rolling down her cheeks. She wails hysterically. I can’t understand a word she says. Right behind her is the rest of my crew.
“Chief Rocka! Chief Rocka. Oh my God. I thought you were dead. They wouldn’t let us see you, and I kept telling them I would do them in. I told them they couldn’t keep us away from you.”
She notices the blood pooling around my arm. The tube dangles on the side of the bed.
“She’s bleeding!” she yells. I wince at the sound of her voice, as if Destiny once again wields a baton to my head.
“Please shut her up,” I say.
“Damn rookie. You never know how to act.” Truck pushes her away. “Step aside.”
Smiley chuckles while Nena wipes her snot on her shirt.
“Sorry, Chief. I tried to keep them at bay. They wouldn’t hear of it,” explains Truck. “Besides, they wanted to pinch.”
Smiley opens her jacket to reveal a new stash of medical items she conveniently hijacked. If there’s an angle to work, Smiley is the one to find it.
“May I?” Shi asks. She examines my arm. Shi is the type of girl who doesn’t say much. At the training camp, Shi was quiet to the point others thought she was unable to speak. It’s the quiet ones who are usually underestimated. After we left the camp and started striking on our own, Shi stepped to us one day. She let me know a rival gang member was about to jump one of my girls. Shi didn’t ask for anything in return. When the information was confirmed, Truck and I knew we wanted Shi to join the LMC. At the time we were heavily looking into completing our group. Smiley was already on board. With Shi by our side, we just needed to find our fifth, which we did when Truck recruited Manos Dura.