

Radiation Face

By Phil Skaggs Jr

Copyright 2013 Phil Skaggs Jr

Smashwords Edition

_Dammit._ I thought about suicide again. The idea of taking a knife out of the cafeteria and grinding it down onto my wrists hit me like a flash. I hate when that happens. It makes me queasy and the veins in my forearms throb then burn and shrivel up. Trying to hide from my horrible mind.

I've been trying to get those thoughts out of my head. It ain't easy. I go about my business. I don't bother anyone then all of a sudden someone decides it's open season on me. Then I start feeling bad for myself even though I know I shouldn't. I can't help it. The thing is, it's like they're reminding me I'm fucked up. I know I have a bulbous head. With two bulging and twisted eyes and my chin is super weak. Like nearly non-existent. My hair is thinning on top. My nose is too big for my head which seems like it should be impossible and my ears look like someone was trying origami on them. I am not a good looking man. Oh well, just another child born in the radiation belt thanks to that giant space egg and the giant radiation spewing lizard that came out of it. Followed by many more.

Still hurts to be called troll face. Or blender face. Or garbage face. Pretty much anything negative followed by face. Radiation face has always been my favorite since it is the layman's medical description of my physical deformities. I wouldn't worry too much about me. I'm not going anywhere. At least, not by my hand. I got better things to do then find out that everyone's a big a prick on the other side as here. Now, that would be fucking depressing.

I don't think it would be such a problem but my parents decided to move out of the radiation belt aka the zone while they try to have another kid. Down there I was just another face in the crowd. Not too bad compared to a few others there. But here. In the ritzy part of the country, I'm something that they only see on TV when a token freak is needed to preach some shitty after school message about kindness to others.

One good thing about being a freak though is all these mutant chasers around here. I never thought I'd come across any of that. Thought it was a myth to be honest, but it's real. I got one of my own. Melanie Goodwin the hot cheerleader is banging Abe Jennings the mutant freak. I have to keep it secret, of course, but that's fine with me. I've never been one for girlfriends. Tried back at my old school. No good. They all seem pretty boring to be honest.

Nice to have someone to get worked up over though. Speaking of the devil, the alarm sounds across the school. A loud, blaring sound that rumbles down my ears. It means that there's a monster fight near my old hometown so everyone heads up to the roof to watch. The monsters are big enough that you can see them quite a few towns over. Melanie always finds me during these shows and takes me to the theatre's backroom and someone always ends up against the wall before we get through the door.

I sit and wait for her to find me in the usual spot. She does. She has a nice wide grin across her face and that look in her eyes that let's me know I'm in for it today. We don't really say anything to each other. We tried it once or twice. Didn't really work out. Pretty lackluster. Sucked the fun out of the room real quick. Now, we know better.

She takes me to the backroom and holds my face in her small hands. I'm drooling a bit. I got a small mouth and get a little extra saliva going when I'm horny which is often being a teenager. My twisted face just gets her excited.

'You know I heard some things about you people.' She told me once a few weeks before anything happened between us.

'Oh yeah?' I asked. I'd heard that opener before. It was usually followed by shit.

'Yeah, I heard you guys were wild. That the radiation did something to your mind. You know?'

'Oh yeah, I'm wild. Just completely nuts.' I replied.

'No, like in bed. There's stuff that's different about you.' She gave me a sideways glance.

'Oh...yeah...' I had heard about this stuff. Never came across it, but then again I never got out of my hometown until I moved here. Now, I'm surrounded by weird stereotypes that just sound , well, stupid.

'Is your cock all weird shaped and stuff?' She scooted in closer. We were sitting on some bleachers during a music appreciation class. Not many kids show up for it so we were nearly alone there. The teacher was occupied trying to impress some kids with his days as a punk rocker.

'No, not really.' What the fuck kind of question was that? I tried to stay normal. 'Don't know, never really compared it.'

She cooled off after that, and I thought that was the end of it, but I was wrong. She did some "online research" and shit and figured I just had a fucked up face with a fucked up mind and a sex drive in overdrive. These were all true. The first from radiation. The last two more from being a teenager who's hormones were hitting their stride.

I wipe my chin and get off my knees. Melanie's up against the wall this time and her face is flushed. She takes me by the hand and leads me to a chair and I take a seat. She gives me what I want.

#

School gets out early. Some kind of holiday or the teachers needed a break. I really don't pay attention. I just go through the motions until someone tells me to stop. Just a few more years and I'm set to go for real.

See, I've got plans. I'm a fighter. Getting punched is one of my strong suits. Hitting is something I'm even better at. When I was back in my old hometown, there wasn't much for any of us freaks to do except hit each other. Which was a good thing since that's one of the few profitable sports left out there for us. There's all these rumors that we radiation guys are super strong and super fast and super everything. Like the radiation decided to give us twisted faces and bodies on the outside but make us into some kind of genetic superiors on the inside. This just ain't the case. I know plenty of kids with nonstop tumors popping up on their bodies. They get them drained on the regular. I know kids with chronic radiation burns. I know kids with no arms. The only thing different between us and the poor souls that get hit with high doses of radiation is that we live. For some reason the weird radioactive foam that those monsters spew is different from every other radiation out there.

My parents were exposed to it, but they look normal. Nothing wrong with them. But everyone born there is pretty much lucky if they don't have a second stomach coming out of their shoulder. It's not normal back home. I was kinda freaked out when I first showed up in this place. Everyone so pretty and sweet looking. It was bizarre to say the least. But you get over that fast. After the second kid asks you if you've got a sister that's half dog or if my brain works right before they shove you into a locker, well, you kinda see that people can be asses just about everywhere you go.

I get home and Mom and Dad are on the couch. Mom's going through all the little baby clothes she picked up at the store. She still has a ways to go before she's ready to push one out, but she's getting ready. They didn't waste anytime on getting pregnant once they moved here. I'm not going to lie to you, the fact that they moved my ass across the state just to have a normal looking kid kinda pulls at my guts. But when I think about it I can't blame them. They want someone that looks like them not like some busted up cantaloupe. Besides, I'm sure I'll love the kid no matter what he looks like.

'Hey, honey. How was school?' Mom asks then holds up a small green onesie. 'Isn't this cute?' She asks me before I can answer with 'Fine.' followed quickly by 'Sure.'

'You look into jobs?' My dad asks.

'No, Dad. I didn't ask anyone if they knew about any jobs.' I answer.

'Well, you need to start looking into it. You need to start saving for college. The sooner the better.' Dad adds. 'You might even want some gas money now that you got your license.'

'Yeah, Dad. I'll look into it again.' I won't I'm too worried about starting my training back up. I've been out of it too long. I used to trained for fights with my friends at Luther's Fight Room. But since I've moved here I kinda put that on the back burner. Really, I just haven't felt motivated. Nothing really driving to get out there and practice. Plenty of stuff that makes me want to hit something, but there's a difference between punching and fighting. I want to fight.

'I'm going to head upstairs and work on some stuff.' They kinda nod and I head to my room.

I get in the door and throw my backpack on the bed followed by me flopping down beside it. I pull out a small flyer I picked off the floor near the boy's locker room. "ALL-IN FIGHTING!" is printed across the top. It shows two mean looking dudes with their hands up to their faces. One's normal looking and one looks a bit like me. I scan through the whole flyer again. It's a cross-fighting event. Mutants and humans going man to man in the cage. They have a bout this Saturday downtown.

I walk over to my dresser and slide the paper into the mirror. Now, this is something worth training for. Something I can focus on. I pick my fists up from my side and put them in front of my face and I get into the stance and bob around a bit. I throw a few punches into the air and it feels good.

I get my homework out of my bag and get to work. It takes me most of the night. I stop for dinner and talk to my parents some more. Dad is still getting on me to get a job. Mom helps me out. I finish dinner and head to bed early. They're both a little surprised since I'm usually a night owl.

'I need to get up and train early.' I tell them. Neither approve. I go to bed. Excited for the next morning.

#

I drag my heavy bag out of the storage. Thank god we have a yard here otherwise I'd have no idea where to go. I find a decent enough branch to hold it and I chain it up. I take my time getting into it even though my body is just aching to be pushed. I don't want to pull anything. I know I'm really out of shape. I don't think I'll be up to fighting form for a few months. But I'll probably be ready to get into the ring sooner. I'll just have to keep myself in check. I don't have the guys or coach here to help me out.

I start with some jump rope for about as long as I can take it. That's about seven minutes. Then I get down and do some elevated sit-ups. Never been to great at those. The head and all. That's fine this is just to get me warmed up. I just want to get used to moving again. The real edge a fighter has is stamina. Conditioning is something that most people leave out, but it's the most important. You can have all the style and grace in the world, but if I'm still standing then I still have a chance. And if you're breathing harder than me then that chance just got better.

I get my sneakers out and my sweats. It's got a nice chill out so I don't need anything too heavy. A hoodie will do. I head for the front and start running. I've got a few hours before school starts so I push myself to go for as long as I can. If I have to I'll walk back. I should be fine.

It's Thursday today. It's going to be a long day as is tomorrow. I'm just going to be counting down the minutes until I can head out to the fight. See what people have around here. See what kind of atmosphere there is. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. I turn the corner and keep heading east. My feet feeling lighter and lighter with each step.

#

I head back home this morning after about thirty minutes of alternating sprinting and jogging. I want to say that it's some kind of technique to get my stamina up faster, but the fact is that I ended up taking a few breaks.

On the way back, I have my hoodie up and some tunes blasting through my earbuds. I'm minding my own business when a squad car pulls me off to the side. It is followed by two more. Everyone stays in their vehicles shouting at me to get my hands up and get down on the ground. Two things I'd already done when they pulled up next to me. A few cops get out with tasers and pepper spray drawn. I've gotten this before.

The thing is I'm pretty sure some of the same cops who have stopped me a few times since moving here. They can't seem to remember my face, the lucky bastards. Mutants and freaks and all of us radiation kids scare them a little. Not to mention that we're not exactly the wealthiest people in the world. Not many jobs out there in radioactive land.

They ask me a few of the same old questions. 'What are you doing here?'; 'Why are you wondering the streets?' And a few new ones. 'What are you doing out so early?'; 'Haven't we stopped you before?' I answer them. I tell them I'm just out for a morning stroll. Jogging. I don't tell them I'm training or that I'm a fighter. "Any excuse" seems to be their motto. And I don't want to give them one.

They seem satisfied. All three of squad cars roll out. Each one makes it a point to drive by me slowly while they stare me down. Then they speed off. I think about stepping out in front of one before they go. I don't. I head back home and get ready for school. Saturday can't come soon enough.

#

The rest of the Thursday was uneventful. Friday has been something else. A few jocks saw me drooling over the flyer and now I've got Dweebil Martin, Joosh Sydney, and Ken Marz breathing down my neck.

'Well, check this out guys, we got ourselves a fighter!' Ken snatches the flyer out of my hands. I just sit there.

'You a tough guy?' Dweebil asks. 'You think you can take me?'

'Oh man, watch out, Dweebs! I bet he can take us all on if he wants to.' Joosh laughed.

'Oh yeah, he's got that retard strength, doesn't he?' Dweebil adds.

Ken kicks at my bag. 'No. He knows we won't touch him. We don't want to get sick. Might catch the freak virus or something.'

I stand up and all three jump back, but they catch themselves. The eyes are all on us. The cafeteria is not a great place to try and avoid these guys.

'Oooohh. Careful. He looks like he's ready to swing. Aren't ya champ?' Joosh pushes himself close to me. He's up in my face. He has breath like rotted fish balls.

'No. I was just looking at it. Can I have it back?' I hold my hand out. I do hope that they just get their kicks and move on. I look around and a few teachers are watching us. They don't move. They keep glancing over then talking to each other. They've never really shown me any love here. Probably waiting for me to make a move so they can haul me into the office. I'm just about to. I'm getting sick of these pretty boys being in my face.

'Careful, Joosh.' Ken pulls him back. All of them ignore my last question. 'You might pop that oversized head of his like a zit. Get radioactive pus on all of us.'

'You don't want that on ya.' Dweebil smiles.

'Are you done?' I ask.

Ken looks me over and wads the flyer up after spitting in it. 'Yeah, we're done.' The three of them walk away and I pick up the wad of spit and paper and shove in one of my bags pockets. The kids around erupt into a wave of laughter. A few throw what's left of their lunch my way. I catch a few of the teachers' eyes and they quickly look the other way.

I'd leave. I really would. I'd get out of here in a heartbeat, but my parents fought tooth and nail to get me in this school. My dad worked his ass off to get transferred over here and he's working the rest of it off to keep the family here. I'll get through it. Just a few more years is all it's going to take. And this doesn't mean anything anyway. All that's important is training and fighting. Training and fighting.

I just want to hit something.

#

I come in from working out. I went nearly all day, but I didn't want to be too exhausted to go to the fight so I took it somewhat slow. Of course, being stopped yet again by cops this morning helped break up the day. I'm hoping this does not become a regular occurrence. I check my phone and there are a couple of missed messages on there. Texts from Melanie. She wants me to meet her out in Keystone Park. She follows it up with things she wants to do me.

Poor girl. I'm going to have to cancel on her tonight. She's not going to be too happy about that. The last time I did it was when I got the flu over break. She didn't acknowledge me for two weeks. Oh well, them's the breaks.

I take a shower, take a nap, and get changed before I start to head out. I borrow a few bucks off of my dad so I can take the bus downtown and pay the cover to the fight. He lectures me about responsibility and getting a job. I nod along and say I will then head out.

Keystone, Michigan is a pretty decent looking place. My home is smack right in the middle of tv land suburbia. We've got the fence and the sidewalks and everything looks clean. All the houses are two story and have the same shape but look different enough that the grown-ups can all feel good about themselves. Trees line the sidewalk and kids play out in the street. It's pretty. It's a nice place. I can't deny that. Better than my old hometown of Middling, MI. Now known (along with surrounding towns) as the radiation capital of the world.

That's the shithole of America, now. Since there's already radiation thanks to a bunch of monsters deciding to make that their stomping ground every few months, the politicians decided that we'd be the perfect place to store all kinds of crap there. Now, most of us grow up with waste and radiation in about everything we touch or eat. It took me months to get used to the taste of tap water here.

On the bus I watch the pretty little houses turn into brick buildings with cute little signs advertising haircuts, coffee, and clothes every few blocks. There are people milling around outside as the shops close up and the restaurants start to turn their lights on. I've only been down here a few times. I'm not one for shopping. Not that I've had too much extra money for shopping. Last time I was here was to see the latest "Frankensteins in Space" release. Probably the only other thing that could drag me out here besides this fight.

I get off at Woodlawn and walk the rest of the way. The fights apparently on the bad side of town. I didn't even know Keystone had a bad side. I see people sitting out on steps and kids standing around talking shit. People stop and stare. Music blasts in the night air and I can smell someone cooking from an open window. For a bad side of town it sure beats the nicest part of Middling.

I finally get to the Bishop, home of All-in Fighting. It's blue painted brick building with a pair of purple doors and a sign over the doors that reads "Fght tonght! Mane Event: Jerry Lince vs. Brad 'The Fst' Copper". Jerry Lince is the non-mutant. Figures he'd get the one "i".

I walk through the doors and I'm hit with purple and red neon and a buzz of voices down the hall. There's a line of normal looking people and a few that look like me. I get my money and get my hand stamped by a scruffy looking girl. A bigger, scruffier looking dude is standing next to her. He nods and I move on down the hall.

I grab another flyer. I left the spitwad at home. There's about eight matches lined up besides the headline bout. There's only pics of Lince and Copper on the flyer so I know that Copper is the mutant. You can see the big eyes and twisted expression on his fist. He's got oversized hands. I guess that's where the nickname "The Fist" comes from. I have no idea how they do things. I wonder if it's a normal/mutant match up all the way down or they just mix it up with whoever. I hope they mix up.

#

Three matches in and I'm hooked. These guys are on a different level than what I'm used to. It's kind of intimidating. We were scrappers out in Middling. We had a gym, but it was nothing more than a place for a few us to get together and spar. We had matches set up from a few towns that were in the radiation circle. About four or five. They were wild, bloody messes.

But these fighters have finesse. They have skill. They have an ability that I've tried to take from every video I could get my hands on. It's amazing. I want to go home and train. I need to find a way to get to this level.

I notice some girl from across the way. She looks familiar. I didn't notice her before, but now I can't help it. She keeps staring at me. She won't take her eyes off of me. Even when I make eye contact with her. I break away first. I don't know what's going on with her. She might be a mutant chaser. I hope not. I'm not looking for anything more than what I have with Melanie. I turn back to the fight at hand and watch a guy in black shorts. He's got a barrel chest and his face looks like he's been around the block a few times.

He's straddling a guy in white tights. The guy in white looks like it's been around the block too. And filled with radiation. He's got bumps and sores across his head and neck. His jaw is large and wide. He has a tongue that doesn't seem to want to fit in is mouth. He's on his back holding up his hands trying to block the guy in black. He brings his legs up around the man in black's neck and throws him to the ground and with three swift punches to the head the man in white is standing over his opponent with his tongue hanging heavy out of his mouth. His blood coming down his forehead, mixing with his opponent's. He let's out a scream and dances around the cage. I look at my flyer which has been crumpled and twisted in my excited hands. His name is Willy Barnes. The crowd cheers and he raises his fists high in the air and smiles.

#

The bouts end anti-climatically. The last fight wasn't that great. They danced around each other and the human won with points. It didn't look like anything special. But the fights before it. They made me want to get in.

I stood around the back of the building near the locker rooms hoping to catch someone that seemed important. As I wait, groups of girls and guys walk by as they enter in cheering for the champ. It's madness. The place is clearing out and I still wait for someone to walk out of the locker rooms. I start to get nervous and think that maybe there's a back exit that everyone is taking.

Finally, Willy Barnes emerges. He's flanked by two men. He's talking to them about the fight and I hear tidbits of their plans for next week.

'Rest up, Willy. Your next one's not for a few more weeks.' says the man to his left. A large, round guy with a black t-shirt that reads "The Fist" across the front with some weird looking designs surrounding it. His face's left side bulges from his skull.

'How many more you got lined up for me for the season?' Willy asks.

'We got a few more. Still trying to get those bigger ones, but you gotta learn to play the game a little. I could get some big fights then. You're good and everyone likes you.' The guy on Willy's left says. He's got a tie and button up shirt on with a big smile. Nothing's wrong with his face.

'I fight how I fight, Tommy. You know that. Just get me what you can. Russel, I'll see you at the gym Tuesday morning.' Willy breaks off from the two and I give him a few steps before I run up to him.

'Uh, Mr. Barnes.' I raise my hand on instinct as I say it.

'Hey, how's it going, kid?' He reaches his hand out as if he's waiting for something. I grab it to shake. 'No, kid, what do you want me to sign?'

'Oh, uh, sorry, Mr. Barnes. Nothing. I don't want you to sign nothing.' I smile.

'Just a handshake? All right.' He grips it hard then turns away.

'No, I had a question.' He stops. 'How does someone sign up for this?'

'Sign up for this?' He looks me over.

'Yeah, sign up to fight. How do I do that?'

'How old are you?'

'Seventeen.' I fudge a year.

'Well, first you need to be eighteen. Second, you don't want to do this. It's a hard life. Go do something else. You don't want this.'

'No, I do. I used to fight back in Middling.'

He stops and turns back to me. 'You a Middling kid?'

'Yeah.'

'I used to live near there for a few years. I got out of Wheeler before it got stomped down for those monsters' nests. It's a nice place.'

'I know. My dad moved me out here though hoping it would be better. Normal.'

'Good man.' He clenched his large jaw and exhaled. 'Stick with what's normal. You'll do better. Now, I gotta go. I got things to do. Glad you enjoyed the fight. It's always better outside of the cage.' Willy turns away again and heads out the front door. He stops to talk to the large scruffy guy at the ticket counter for a second then heads out. I follow behind and heads for the bus while he heads for the parking lot. I get on the bus and head home. I want to get to bed so I can get up early for my run. I still have a long ways to go.

#

It's Monday, I get up and run. My time has gotten better and my endurance has increased a little. I'm feeling pretty happy.

My mom's getting ready for her first ultrasound later today. Dad's going to knock off work early and head to the doctor's to see how the little guy is doing and see if it is a little guy or little gal.

I get ready and head to school. I'm going to have to dig around a little and see how I get my foot in the door over at the All-In Fighting.

School goes just about as well as possible. The teachers are the same bunch of jerks they always are. So are most of the students. Melanie isn't anywhere to be found. Though I caught her walking down the hall once. She decided not to bother looking at me. Probably won't be seeing any of her in the near future.

I sit by myself at lunch as usually. All the popular kids go outside to ear which leaves plenty of room for most of us rejects to grab our own table and not be bothered.

I'm eating a sandwich and some chips I packed for myself when a familiar face starts walking my way. She's the same face I saw at the fight on Saturday night. So she's in my school. I probably saw her floating around. Might even be in a class. I try not to make any eye contact with any of the students. It just leads to being hassled.

She has a nice enough face and body from what I can tell through her dark make up and dark clothes. She's dressed like some Addams family cousin. Not really my thing. I'll have to brush her off. She's probably one of those mutant chasers who's into all kinds of freaky things. Watching horror flicks probably gets her off. I really don't want to get into that no matter how pretty the girl. I'll just wait until Melanie comes back around.

'Hey.' She sits down at the table. Bold. 'I saw you at the fight the other night, right? That was you.'

I keep my head down and I make a display of eating my sandwich with as much sound and visuals as possible. These kinds of girls take even the slightest bit of contact as encouragement. I gotta just be completely oblivious.

'You a fighter?' She asks.

I keep eating.

'Can you talk? Look, you don't need to be an asshole.'

She decides to play the same game as me after that. She sits there and doesn't say a word. She just sits and waits. It's starting to get on my nerves. I don't have a lot of patience when it comes to people. I expect them to say their shit to me and move on.

'Look, I'm not interested. I'm already seeing someone.' I finally come clean. 'It's great that you're curious and all that shit, but I don't have a weird shaped cock nor do I piss out of my ass or any other fucked up thing you're thinking. Alright. So now you can move along and tell your friends you talked to the freak show.'

'What the hell?' She pulls her face close together and looks like she's about to smash her hand across my face. 'Seriously, what the fuck? I'm not into you, dude. That's not happening. Not happening. Sorry.'

'Oh yeah?' I'm sure she's just trying to save face. 'Then what do you want?'

'I just wanted to talk. That's all. I saw you at the fight and thought maybe you, oh I don't know, would want to talk.' She raises her hands up and stands up away from the table.

_Shit._ I swallow my pride. 'Hey, wait. Sorry. My bad. Rough day and all.' I hope she turns back around. I'm hoping she's been going to them long enough that she might know how I could get in one of those fights. Or even just know who I should talk to. Anything.

'Rough day?' She has her arms folded across her chest.

'Yeah, rough day. Any day here is a rough day.'

'It sure is a shithole filled with real shitheads.'

'You don't have to convince me.' I offer her up a seat and she takes it. 'Look I'm really sorry again. I'm just not used to people wanting to talk to me. It's kinda weird.'

'I can understand that.'

'I figured.'

'You did.' She raises an eyebrow.

'Yeah, the whole goth thing. Probably doesn't play well with all the happy, smiling faces.'

'Oh.' She looks down at her clothes. 'Yeah, not too well.'

'So, um, what's your name?' I ask.

'Sam. Samantha. You can call me Sam. You?'

'Abe.'

'Cool, Abe. So let me ask you again. Are you a fighter?'

'Yeah, I fought a little back in Middling. We had events every few weeks fought all the local guys. I was pretty decent. How'd you guess?' I give my bicep a feel. It doesn't feel especially telling.

'Oh, how you watched some of those fights. Like you were studying them or something. Everyone else was looking for blood. But you were kind of wrapped up in the whole thing. You had that fighter look or whatever you want to call it.'

'I did?' _Awesome._ 'Yeah, I started training again. Going to try and get into the bouts around here.' I put down my sandwich finally. 'You know how I would do that? I asked some guy there and he kinda blew me off.'

'Really?' Sam leaned on her elbows. 'They're pretty lax with letting anyone in. Especially y--uh...'

I look at her.

'You mutants.' She finally says.

'Ah. I see. Are we hard to come by?'

'Up here you are. Everyone usually stays below the radiation line.'

'I saw a few fighting the other night.' I say.

'Yeah. Most of them are shipped in. A few get lucky and fight well enough to stick around. But that's only a few.'

'Okay.' I say. The bell rings. 'Well, how would I get my foot in the door?'

Sam grabs her books. 'That's easy. Walk in there on a Wednesday and ask for a tryout. You fight. You do well, you're in. You don't, well, you get your ass kicked.'

'This Wednesday?'

'Yeah.'

I smile and throw my bag over my shoulder and head for the next class. I sit there writing vague notes about the Civil War then take a few more classes and head home.

#

Back home I'm hitting the heavy bag. I know it's been awhile since I've been in the cage. I'm probably not ready yet, but I feel like I should test myself. I want to test myself. I want to get in there and see where I stand. I think I'll hold my own. Probably won't take a slot in the next bout unless it's quite a few weeks away so I can get some real training in. Get up to the level I know I can be. Shouldn't take too long. But I want to step back into the cage.

The heavy bag buckles under my punches and sways. I jab and feel the shock of the bag against my fist and feel it travel up my arm and into my shoulder. I get a few more jabs in and hit with a hook. The feeling is great. I keep going. I keep hitting until my arms are too heavy and my breathing is deep. I rest my hands on my head and do some squats. I don't count. I just do them until my legs give out. Then I rest and do them again.

The sun goes down and I'm still squatting and then trying to punch again. I try to get this all in. Tomorrow I'll rest. Then Wednesday I'll fight. Just to see where I'm at. Not take any offers unless I know I can get the training I need in before the real fight.

Mom calls me in for dinner. They have good news. The baby looks healthy. Everything is well. They show me a picture. It's a weird shaped shadow with some gray highlights. I'm not sure what I'm looking at, but I'm happy for them. Dad is excited and already talking about my responsibilities as an older brother. Also about getting a job. He says he's going to get me an application to his place if I don't start looking on my own. That's not something I want. He works on the border doing clean up. I mean he supervises so that's not so bad. I'd be a grunt. Cleaning up radiation shit to make sure it doesn't go any further north into Keystone and the surrounding areas.

I tell him I'm looking and smile. I say I might have found something downtown. That I'm going back Wednesday to find out if there's anything there.

#

Melanie texts me this morning right as I'm finishing up my run. She wants to meet before school starts. I'm okay with that. I'm nearing the park that she lives by so I tell her I'll meet her there. I take my time getting there and try to cool down.

Melanie is waiting at the usually spot. She looks a little more nervous than usual. She usually wants to meet a little later when it's nice and dark and most of the households around the neighborhood have drifted off to sleep.

I nod to her and start to take my shirt off. I'm drenched in sweat. She seems to like it at first, but then she pushes me back.

'So who's that girl you've been talking to?' She asks.

'Girl?' I wonder who she's talking about.

'The dark hair and goth shit.'

'Oh. Her?' I don't know how she found out or why she gives a shit. 'She was just someone who wanted to talk to me. Why do you care?'

'I don't. I just wanted to make sure you weren't out slutting it around and getting mutant AIDS or something. I don't need that.' She walks in close again.

'Oh. Yeah, don't worry about that. She's not my type.' I bring my hands around her waist and pull her in. 'She was just someone I was talking to.'

'Whatever.' Her hands are on my shoulders. 'So where were you Saturday? I missed you.'

'You missed me?' I almost lose it, but I manage to stifle the laughter.

'Yeah! I missed you!' She snaps through gritted teeth and a foul scowl.

'Alright, sorry. Just didn't think you were that kind of girl.'

'Oh? What kind of girl did you think I was?'

'I think you already know that.'

'Shut the fuck up, you goddamn mutant.'

I pull her in close and smile. 'That's the kind.'

She kisses me and I kiss her back. We try to hurry but I end up late for school. She calls in sick for the morning. She doesn't want to be seen coming in too close after me.

#

Someone tripped me as I walked down the hall. A lot of others laughed as my books scattered across the floor. 'Fast feet, fighter!' Someone that sounded like Ken shouted as I caught myself.

In class, my lab partner. The lowest nerd on the social ladder spiked my lab experiment with something. The whole damn thing exploded in a gooey green mess. The teacher had me stay after class to clean everything up which made me late for my next class. The teacher nearly sent my down to the office, but she wasn't interested in filling out any of the paperwork. So she just had me sit to the side of the class and face the window. Not something I expected to do in high school, but there you go.

At lunch, I try to mellow out. I grab my sandwich and chomp away. All the cool kids outside again. Thank god for good weather. I try not to think about the day cause when I do all I can think about is someone getting the snot kicked out of them, and as I'm swinging away then the rest of the school jumps in and I'm up to my ass in punches and scratches. And at some point I stop fighting back and I just lay there and take until I drift away to death. Let them deal with the aftermath. I can't imagine many of those bastards would give a fuck.

But I've got til Wednesday. I just have to get through these next few days and I'll be in that cage. Just get through the next few days.

'Hey.' It's Sam.

'Hey.' I reply. 'What's up?'

'Nothing. Schools sucks. So on and so on.'

'Yeah, I hear ya.'

'So are you going downtown tomorrow night?' She asks.

'Yeah. Definitely.'

'Are you, uh, fit?'

'Am I fit?' I hold up both my arms and flex.

'Yeah, but this is pretty serious stuff. It's not wherever you're from.' She looks me straight in the eye. 'These are people who train like six days a week.'

'So? I've been training to get back to where I was a few months ago, but I still got quite a bit of my power left.' I scowl.

'I'm sure you have.' She pauses. 'Well, no offense, but you don't seem that in shape.'

'How would you know? You've never even seen me in the ring.'

'I just have an eye for it. I know my stuff. That's all.'

'Well, no offense to you, Sam, but I'm not going to take advice from some cage groupie.'

She gives me a sarcastic smirk. 'Whatever you say. I guess I'll see what you got tomorrow.'

'You're going to be there? It's open to the public?'

'Yeah, I'll be there.'

'Fine. I'll see you there. You can check out how the kids from Middling do it.'

'Fine.'

Sam smiles and I smile back. We finish our meals and talk about the assholes at the school. It feels good to have someone else hate these people as much as I do. I complain until my heart's content then I pack up my stuff and head to the next class with my mind on the fight Wednesday.

#

'What do you think of Hamilton?' My mom shouts at me as I walk in the door.

'Uh, for what? A president?'

'No, for your little brother.'

'My little brother?' I ask. 'Oh, that sounds like quite the name for a kid nowadays. You got anything else.' I walk into the kitchen where Mom's sitting at the table surrounded by baby naming books. 'Jeez, Mom.'

'I went to the library to pick up a few books and well, I got carried away.'

'It looks like you cleaned them out.'

'Well, maybe.' She pushes one book aside and pulls another towards her. 'What about Benjamin? Or Theodore?'

'Is there a political theme happening here?'

'Is there? Oops.' She giggles and sits back in her chair. 'I'm just trying to pick a pretty good name. You were easy. We just named you after your grandfather. Pretty simple.'

'Well, why don't you name him after the other grandfather. You know we have two.'

'You're dad doesn't really like remembering you grandpa so I don't think he'll want to name his son after him.'

'Oh. Yeah, I forgot about that. Well, we've got time. We can figure out a name later.'

'Yeah. I suppose.'

'Does dad have any ideas?' I ask.

'No. You know your father. He's happy with whatever when it comes to this stuff.'

They got lucky. They were both just at that cut off mark to be born right before the first monsters hatched and started spraying down the area. After that year, every kid had something wrong with it. Some were real bad some were more like me. At least I can move around on my own.

Years and years of kissing ass and pulling themselves up and they made it out. Now, they can enjoy themselves.

Dad comes home late and reheats his dinner. He talks about his long day dealing with the bureaucrats at work. They all want him to start redirecting all the crap they clean up back into Middling and the rest of the towns. It's a cost saving move. Everyone in the nice parts of the county are tired of paying to process the shit they pull out of the buffer zone.

'The thing is, I know at least Middling has this problem, but their clean up crew already dumps the stuff on the outskirts near the nests. They can't afford to pay for it so they just have to store it further away. If we add our stuff to theirs then it's just going to fill to capacity in no time.' He complains over his mash potatoes.

He continues. 'I don't know. I took this job for the pay and everything. But I though that I could honestly help get the crap out of radioactive zones. Start to use the money and influence here to clean up. Help everyone out just a little bit.'

'You think they would want to. I know a few families on the block have relatives on the other side.' Mom says.

'Yeah, well.' Dad adds.

'I don't know what you expected?' I say. They both look at me. 'Just saying. If they wanted to help they would have already done it.'

'The government tried, son. It's easier to contain then engage those creatures.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've taken history class.'

'Well, I'm not too worried. You'll figure something out. I'm sure of it.' Mom reassures.

Dad leans back and puts his hands on his belly. 'Yeah, it's not the end of the world. I'm sure we'll figure something out that will work for both communities.'

'You sound like a politician.' Mom smiles. I raise my eyebrows.

'I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not.' Dad laughs. So does Mom. I shake my head and smile. Mom throws a few names at Dad for the baby, but none of them stick so she gets out the books. She's going through them with Dad nodding with drooping eyes while I head for bed. Dad wishes me luck on my job for tomorrow. I head upstairs, undress, and lie in bed waiting for my nerves to calm down so I can get some sleep.

#

Sam doesn't come by for lunch. I don't see her. I see Melanie though. During another monster drill. It was a big one from what I heard. Gargo the large turtle like creature vs Montsta the flying furry thing vs the three headed lizard that hasn't really gotten a name in the press yet. All the faculty and staff went to the top as well.

Melanie tried to talk to me a little during our meet up. It was awkward for me. I didn't really have anything to say to her, but she kept trying to connect. It wasn't working for me. After we went our separate ways I overheard her getting a few jabs in at me with a group of her friends. She called me assface and such. I let it slide off my back. It didn't matter to me that she was nibbling on my collar bone only a few hours before then was trying to come up with the best way to describe my face. She got in 'like the great canals of Mars'. I was surprised. I've never given credit for being that smart.

Back home from school, I walk in the door and immediately set about trying to kill some time. I walk around the house. Pacing. Trying to think of something that I could do before I need to take the bus downtown. Dad's still at work and Mom is out doing God knows what.

I grab the remote and switch on some tv. The usual dysfunctional shows are on about midgets and sex and baby daddies. A few reruns of _Frankensteins in Space_ are on. I've seen them all though. Got the whole series sitting up in my room. I don't need to watch the trimmed down television version. I catch the news and it talks about the monster fight earlier today. Nothing about Middling or anywhere else in the zone. Everyone just glad that the carnage didn't spill over and that the dead zone between here and there is working. It gives the monsters the breathing room the need to fight without worrying about anyone getting hurt. _Bullshit._

I flick the tv off and head up to my room. I think about sending something to my old friends in the zone but there's no way to get anything in there. Phones don't work. No internet there. Mail refuses to deliver so you have to go through the private services. That costs an arm and a leg. I'll just have to wait and hope it works its way up through the grapevine somehow. These things are so routine though that they barely make a dent in your day if you've grown up with them. As long as your luck holds out. That's the big key.

I decide to take a quick nap. I set my alarm and crawl into bed with all my clothes on. I go out pretty quick thanks to all the hours I have to make up from the night before.

#

It's still daylight when I get on the bus. A few hours earlier than when I went to the fight on Saturday. I watch the houses change to brick buildings again. This time I get to see a clear view of the area I missed when I was just getting to the Bishop. There are groups of people out on the stoops. Music blasting. Kids laughing. People talking.

I watch as the people sitting, walking, waiting, talking. They all seem normal but once or twice a twisted face or a swollen leg or boiled covered body pops up. Not a lot. But a few just pop up on the streets every now and again.

The bus finally stops and I get out. No one else does. I notice a cop car down the road and I shove my hands in my coat and hurry towards the Bishop. They stop talking and looking down the street but then go straight back to talking and drinking coffee. I keep walking down the sidewalk undisturbed.

The pavement here is cracked and unfinished in places. The buildings seems a little run down but there's a few local hamburger places and bars here and there. I can smell something other than people's garden's in this part of Keystone. I get to the blue building again and walk through the purple doors.

All I hear is grunting in the distance and all the lights are on. The hallway is empty except for a few middle aged guys standing around in short sleeve shirts and brown slacks with large cigars hanging from their mouths. The talk and jab at each other with their finger as if their in some fight or making a point. Someone stops to point me out with a nod and the others turn to look at me then back and start to laugh. I walk past them and the ticket counter where the scruffy looking girl is gone, but the big scruffy guy is still there. He's leaning against the counter and nods to me as I walk by.

There's a smokiness filling the large room as I see a few tables around the cage. A few groups of men are standing around or sitting near them. Some look like the guys out in the hall. Some look like fighters. Some look like anyone you'd see walking down the street. I see Sam sitting over by herself in the corner, watching what's going on in the cage. She catches my eye as I'm taking the rest of it in and waves me over to her. I have no idea who to see so I head her way.

'What's going on?'

'You ready?' She asks.

'Oh yeah, I'm ready. I just need to make sure I shake the rust off right away.'

'Alright, cool. Did you see Big Dave?'

'Nope. Just walked in. Had no idea where to go or who to see.' I say.

'Uh, you see that big guy over there with no neck and the shaved head?'

'Yeah.'

'That's Big Dave. He's the promoter here. Go see him and get yourself signed up for a fight.'

I nod and leave my stuff next to her and head over to Big Dave. I stand near him as he talks to a few other guys. he finally takes notice of me. 'Yeah? What do you want?'

'I'm looking to try out.'

'Really?' He looks me up and down. 'How tall are you?'

'5'8"'

'How much do you weigh?'

'173'

'Now, is that all head?' He bursts out into a laugh and the others around him follow suit. My ears start to turn red. I keep silent. 'Alright, I'm just playing. How old are you kid?'

'18' I tell him thinking back to what Willy Barnes told me.

'Really? You're eighteen? If you're eighteen I'm a fucking supermodel, kid.' He laughs again. 'How old are you really?'

'16' I reply.

'All right. That's not too bad. That's about where I cut people off in here.' He looks me over again. My heart is raising. 'I'll set you up for a fight. This is how it works. You get it in. You fight. You can tap out whenever you want. We don't expect you to stay standing, but we want to see some potential. Sound good? Good. I'll call you when we're ready for you. We've got a few guys to get through. What's your name.'

I give him my name and thank him and walk back over to Sam and grab my stuff. I figure I should change right away. I ask Sam where the locker room is and she points me to the bathroom. 'You can't go in the locker room unless you're a fighter here.'

I head to the bathroom and strip down in one of the stalls. I brought my old and tattered gloves with me and a pair of shorts that had seen better days. I walk back out with nothing but my hoodie over my torso so I'm ready to go when they call me. I sit next to Sam and wait my turn.

'I thought you had to be eighteen to fight.' I say.

'If you're in one of the real leagues, but here they let just about anyone in.'

'I didn't even know stuff like this existed. When I fought it was just some local guys around the area. All mutants.'

'Yeah, this is only a few years old or so. There are a few towns that have fights, but no one in the sport even recognizes what we're doing. So they take any good fighter off the street. Not that there are many.'

'That's pretty cool. I thought I'd have to join some expensive gym or something when I first moved here. Didn't even give it a second thought because of that.'

'Nope. Just fight good.' She looks around then at me. 'You ever been to a gym?'

'Sure. I had one down in Middling. Nothing special. It was run by a few local guys.'

'What'd you learn there?'

'Uh, how to fight.' I look back at her while some new guy is being thrown to the ground int he cage.

'No, what styles?'

'I don't know any styles. Just punching and wrestling I guess.' I look back to the cage. The new guy is on the ground with his arm being pulled by his opponent.

'Oh boy.' That's all she says and she watches the rest of the fight.

They call someone else to get up in the cage and he falls in a few seconds. A hook right to the jaw. He drops. No scrambling on his legs. No recovery. He drops down with dead weight to the mat. The ref counts him out then his corner comes rushing and looks him over and drag him out. Then they call me up.

I walk up alone. No one flanking me or holding my spit bucket or talking me up with their hands on my shoulders. Just me. I walk up to Big Dave and he asks if I'm ready and I tell him that I am. He nods and lets me walk up the stairs and into the cage alone.

The fighter that swung that knockout hook just a few minutes ago is still in the cage. He's going to be my test. He barely broke a sweat at that last one. It looks like they bring in the old timers who are on their way out and some of the new guys still cutting their teeth to run the tryouts. I wonder if they get paid to do this or if it's just some cheap form of training they can get into.

The ref introduces my opponent as Jerry Stillwell.

'What's your name?' He leans in to ask.

'Abe.' I say.

He tells Jerry who I am and Jerry extends his glove. I extend mine and he taps it. Jerry stands a little over me and a bit older than me. He's got broad shoulders and a sunken chest. He's bald and has cauliflower ears pretty bad. His head is misshapen and he a little fuzz on his jaw. He looks like he let his head be used as a punching bag one too many times, but he's still looks better than me.

'I'll raise my hand then ask if you guys are ready. When I lower it, you start. We give tryouts about three minutes to impress. After that we ring the bell. If they are still conscious. Got it?' The ref looks at me. His brown moustache twitches for a second and I nod, not taking my eyes off of Jerry. 'Alright.' The ref backs up and raises his hand. He looks at Jerry and says something. Jerry nods. He looks at me and says something and I nod. The hand drops.

All I can hear is my heart going as I watch Jerry start to bounce around. I'm already rushing forward with my right fist near my ear. I got the jump on him. I'll land this and follow it with a few more punches then trip him to the mat then get him in a choke hold. Jerry seems caught in some headlights. He's watching. Bouncing back and forth. I get on top of him and I start to swing. I get ready for the sweet sensation of my fist connecting and sending waves up my arm.

Jerry raises a forearm and blocks and I feel my ribs through my teeth. He grabs my head and brings his knee up to reach my forehead and I see blood on the floor after my eyes open back up. Jerry grabs my arm and twists it around as he throws his leg over my shoulder and throws my to the ground in one quick swoop. I'm on my belly and looking out past the cage. I see everyone watching me as Jerry leans back and pulls my arm a little further. I feel things getting ready to pop.

I scramble and bring my legs around me and somehow I'm no longer on my belly. I start swinging towards Jerry but the punches are barely connecting. I can taste the blood and sweat in my mouth now as I squint from the overhead lights. Jerry still has ahold of my arm and is leading me around like a dog. I swing some and I shake loose. Or he let's me go. I don't know at this point. I don't care. He's back to bouncing back and forth and I start to follow him. I inch in and start swinging when I'm close.

He's swinging back and the fight becomes familiar again. We're trading blows and I'm getting ready for one of us to go down. I get hit across the face and take a few hard body shots. I raise my hands up to my face to block another blow coming my way. He decides to kick me across the ribs and I lower my hands. He hits me. One. Two. My legs decide they don't want to follow my orders any more and I start to stagger around like a child. I ache more than I've ever ached. I think to myself that what I was doing back home with my friends at the local gym wasn't fighting. Not really. The thought passes then I let everything go black as the ground comes up to catch me.

I wake up and find Big Dave standing over me, breathing heavily. He looks up and there's Sam saying a few words to him and he smiles. I smile for some reason and I go back out again. The next thing I know I'm in the back, in the locker rooms, holding my head with an ice pack to my shoulder. No one else is in there except Sam sitting right next to me.

'Where did you learn to fight?' She asks.

'I'm that good, huh?' I say.

'Good god. You're not one of those idiots are you? You know you got your ass handed to you, right?'

I wipe some drying blood off my face. 'Oh, I think so. Yeah, I think I got that figured out.'

'Good.'

'Did I get in?'

'Uh, no.' She replies.

'What?' I'm genuinely shocked. 'I stood up better than that last guy. I got some stamina in the cage.'

'Yeah, some. Not much. And you're sloppy. Really sloppy. And I wouldn't compare yourself to that last guy. He didn't get in either.'

'Fuck.'

'Yeah. You need a lot of work.' She started to count on her fingers. 'You need to up your skills. Up your fitness. Up your power. Up your grappling. Up your speed. Agility.'

'So...everything?'

'Yeah. It's a lot of work.' Sam looks at me and has a wide smile across her face. 'But with the right coaching I think you can pull it off. Get it done in seven weeks, easy.'

'Great. Know any good coaches. I'm ready.' I say.

'Yeah. Me.'

'You?' I look at her. She's still smiling widely.

'Yes, me. I can coach you.'

'You?' I repeat. 'What do you know about coaching?'

'Plenty of stuff. I know all kinds of drills and effective training schedules. And I know this sport.'

'Look, I'm really glad you helped me as much as you have. You know, letting me know about the tryouts and everything, but there's a big difference from watching something and coaching.'

'I know. And you should let me coach you.' Her smile fades and a serious look slowly replaces it.

'Uh, no.' I get up and walk out of the locker room and gather my gear from the floor where I left it. I pack everything up and walk out the door. Wait for the bus and head home. I just walk upstairs and go straight to bed. I don't bother with a shower.

#

Thursday, I woke up and walked down the stairs. My mom freaked out and started to baby me. I hadn't been to the mirror yet so I had no idea how I looked. It wasn't great. I was covered in bruises and dried blood. My sheets were soaked in a thin red soup. I stayed home that day and nursed the wounds I had. Mom drew a bath for me and I soaked myself for a few hours.

My mind was trying to keep the pain away from me but I kept thinking about every blow that was delivered to me. I knew the fights I was in before were sloppy, but I never knew I was so outclassed.

When I fought in Middling it was with core group of my friends. There was Rob, Dobbie, Keith, Ben, and Matt. All mutants. Some worse than others. Someone's older brother had a few fightng magazines lying around and we started reading them. We'd skip school and hang out at the local gym all day, trading punches. Trying to do what we saw in the mags. We got pretty good. Well, we thought we got good. So Keith decided we needed to fight other people, and he had a cousin over in Zionsville who he fought with. That cousin had a friend in Butler. And that friend had someone in King's Harbor. And that's how our little fight league started.

We didn't have prize money or anything like that. We didn't have any coaches. We had each other. We had those magazines and whatever else would come into the zone. What we had most of all was nothing better to do. We would spend every weekend fighting. Every weeknight training. It was better than going to school and going home most of the time. We would stand and beat the shit out of each other as the crowds grew each week. And I loved every second of it. Every second.

The rest of Thursday dragged on. And I went to bed early.

This morning, I wake up still as sore as the day before, but I get up early and go for my run. It goes as expected. But I run as far as I had in the past. It just takes a little longer than before. I figure it will take me a few weeks to get back up to being able to breathe without pain. But I should keep up with the training. This is just a small set back. I'll have to train a little better. A little smarter. I'll need to figure out how to do all that shit I saw in the ring.

I finish running. I go home and get ready for school. My mom keeps checking in on me to make sure I'm alright. She knows I was out fighting Wednesday. Dad doesn't. He thinks I was just sick all day. Mom tells me to expect to see him tonight. I'm more upset about the loss than anything else. Dad never really said much about my fighting. He liked that it kept me out of trouble. I could have ended up like my neighbors' kid. Drugged up and drunk every day by fourteen. She was a mess. She was taking everything that wasn't nailed down straight into her arm.

Her skin was a sickly green and her hair fell out in clumps. She grew boils that looked like small ridges across her skin. It's a shame. She was very pretty, but there's nothing worse for a mutant than taking drugs. The radiation in our bodies does something to that shit. People think we look bad now, they should have seen her before she died. It was something out of a freak show. I try not to think about her too often.

I get to school and it's like my first day all over again. The stares are endless and the looks are priceless. You'd think Satan himself was walking down the halls. Or that I had my balls out, swinging them around. There was a difference, though. Between today and my actual first day.

I'm smiling today.

Today feels a little better. A little different. I'm walking on a cloud. Or red velvet. Or some shit. I just don't feel anything. I don't hear the whispers. Or the names. Or feel the pushing. Or the loneliness. I'm invincible walking in that school. I know pain that they don't. That they probably never will.

Melanie tracks me down pretty quickly. I guess the rumors of what happened to me flew threw the school pretty quickly. She looks me up and down and wants to run off to our little spot right then and there. I want the same thing. That invisibility is making me feel like I'm the king of it all. That feeling lasts until I'm alone with Melanie and she asks me what happened. I tell her I got into a fight. She asks if I won. I don't say anything. I want to lie to her. Just to get her to shut up. But I really want to tell her the truth, but she's not the girl you tell the truth to. She's the girl you lie to. So I say, "Sure." So she smiles and starts to kiss me. I just stand there and start to think about the pain in my arm and in my shoulder and how it felt as I was on the mat. And I think about seeing all those faces past the cage and wondering what I was doing there.

Melanie keeps going. She says something again. I don't hear it. She keeps kissing me. I don't feel it. She strokes my cheek. I don't want it. But I go through the motions. I unbutton the shirt myself. I let her do the rest. I keep going through the motions. I stay there as long as she needs me to and I leave before she gets her panties back on.

I walk out the door and back into the real school. I still don't hear anything. I don't feel anything. I'm still invincible. But I'm not smiling. I go through my morning classes. Each one has something to it. A kids says something in the back of the class when the teacher asks me what happened. Someone trips me on the way out of another. Another asks me to sit out in the hall because I upset her. I say okay and head out to the hall.

I sit out there in the silence. The sun reflecting off forever buffed floors. I sit there and I go through everything from the other night. I go through it and I don't know where to start. How to start. What to do. I don't know anything. I see myself going back and doing the same thing over again. I feel like emptying my head out on the floor. I feel like I don't even want to go back home. I don't know why or where or how, but I know it all seems pretty useless. I feel this nervous sickness swelling up at the pit of my stomach and making a beeline to my throat and I want it to end. I just want it to end. But more than that I want to fight. Just to fight. So I think about that and that nervous sickness that was twisted up inside me slowly unwinds. I just have to focus on that and keep the rest out.

The bell rings and I head to lunch to eat my sandwich and think about fighting. Sam joins me half way through. She doesn't talk about the other night. She just sits there eating. I try to think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. So I just sit there eating.

Finally she says something.

'Still sore?' she asks.

'Oh yeah.'

'I figured it was pretty bad if you didn't come to school yesterday.'

'Hold on there. It wasn't that bad. I just needed to catch up on a little shut eye.' I lie.

'I see.' She pauses for a moment. 'Did you think about my offer at all?'

'Not really, but do you know someone?'

Sam sets her food down and stares at me. 'Really? You're going to ask me that? Just completely dismissing my offer?'

'Look. You seem alright, but I'm not going to put my life in some girl's hands.'

She looks back at me with a completely straight face and slowly nods. 'Alright. I'll have to show you.' She stands up and walks away from the table, towards the large glass doors leading out to the courtyard where all the popular kids are eating. I watch her through the large windows as she heads straight to Kevin, Joosh, and Dweebil. They are surrounded by a bunch of other kids. Melanie's in the next table over.

Sam sits down next to Joosh and she says something. He laughs and looks at the rest of the table. They laugh along. She says something again. He shrugs. She says something again. He looks a little irritated then she turns her back to me and I see him getting angrier. He looks around the table again and everyone's laughing again, but I know it's not with him. He finally stands up places himself over her. He's trying to get her to move just from intimidation. She looks up and says something else then she stands up and gets right up against him. He's about a head or two taller than her and he just stares down at her.

Finally, he pushes her away. She grabs his arms and twists one of them and kicks his back knee in and he hits the ground. She wraps her legs around his other arms and neck and starts to pull. I look at his face and he's trying not to show any emotion, but his face is getting red and he's not looking too happy. She leans back a little more and he finally yells out. And she jumps off him and heads back inside. The teachers don't bother to notice. They don't police the outside.

Sam sits back down breathing just a little heavy and with a large smile across her face. 'Well?'

she says.

'Where did you learn that?'

'Did I get the job?'

'Tell me where you learned that move.'

'Not interested in telling you anything. Unless it's how many miles you're going to run.' She takes a deep breath and calms down. 'Now, yes or no. Did I get the job?'

I try to think of a good reason not to have her coach me, but I can't. I'd really go somewhere else, but I can't afford to hire anyone. And she knows it. She's sitting there and smiling while I'm trying to come up with something good. And I finally say, 'Okay.' And I realize, as she starts rattling possible training schedules and all the things I need to work on, that my nerves have finally calmed down. And I haven't thought about the loss or anything else since she sat down.

The bell rings and I pack everything up. Sam gets up with me and says, 'Tomorrow, we're going to start. You can come over to my place I've got some stuff to train with. Here.' She hands me her address. It's a few blocks from my house. 'Run there. Eight in the morning. Don't be late.'

'Alright, but this is just on a trial basis.' I smirk for some reason and we split as the hall makes a "T".

I start to get excited and pump my fist quickly to my side in excitement and let out a little whimper as my ribs send a jolt through my chest. I go to class and count the minutes left in school.

#

I walk through the door and I realize I had forgotten about Dad. _Crap_. I did not feel up to talking to him. But I have an actual coach now. Yes, it's a classmate I met at the fight, but it's something. Maybe she'll be horrible, but I could at least learn a few moves from her I'm sure. I don't know if he'd see it that way.

I shut the door as quietly as I can and set my stuff down by the door. I head towards the stairs and up to my bedroom. Hoping I'll be able to get up there and buy myself some time before they realize I'm home.

I get a few steps in and 'Honey, is that you?' Mom shouts from the backroom.

'Uh, yeah!' I shout back.

'Hey, could you come here for a second.' She says.

'Yeah, we want to talk to you.' I hear my dad's voice say.

'Alright.' And I make my way towards them.

Mom's sitting there with some more baby books surrounding her. Mixed with the baby naming books are a bunch of other ones with words like "care", "infant", and "learning" somewhere in their titles.

Dad looks at me and he is visibly wincing. He seems to be counting the bruises on my face.

'They look worse than they actually are.' I tell him.

'God, I hope so cause they look awful.' he tells me.

I stand there with my hands in my pocket.

He breaks the short silence. 'So this "job" was really a fight I take it?'

'Well, yeah, it was more of a fight tryout, really.'

'And did it go well? I ask somehow knowing the answer.' he replies.

'Well, not great. It wasn't horrible, but I just didn't do what I needed to do.'

'Which was?'

'Well, win.'

'I see.' He nods.

He asks me to sit down and Mom keeps looking through the baby books like no big deal.

'So...' He says. I cut him off before he gets something else out.

'I don't see what the big deal is. I used to fight back home all the time. You liked that if I remember right. You were pretty happy I did that.'

'I was, son, but this isn't Middling. You don't have to do that to fill your time. I moved us all up here so you'd have other opportunities than going out and getting into a fight.'

'It's a little more than just getting into a fight, Dad.' I say.

He raises his hands and nods his head. 'I know that. But still, this isn't something that you need to go out and do. I'd rather you go and get a job.'

'Well, the tryouts were kind of like a job interview.'

'Abe, I'm not that stupid. You know when I say jobs, you know what I mean. Fighting to me is not a job. And that tryout or whatever you did was not an interview. It was just a tryout. Right?'

I let out a sigh. 'Yeah, I guess.'

'Now, I know you like fighting. And that's fine, but you can't just go out and do what you were doing in Middling. You're going to get yourself killed. Why don't you go play soccer or football or something at school.'

'That's not my thing.'

'Well, try and make it your thing.'

'Fighting is what I like to do, Dad.'

'I know, son. I know. But you need to get something else to do. Something that's not going to leave you looking like that. If you don't want to do one of those sports then you definitely need to get a job. It's one or the other. No fighting. But if you need to get out some aggression then play football. I was a teen once too. I remember all that crap going through your head.'

'I'm not going to join football.'

'Then you need to get a job like I've been saying. A real job. One that is steady and doesn't leave you looking like that.'

'I got a trainer.' I tell him. Mom finally looks up from the baby books.

'Okay...' Dad just looks at me.

'So I'm kind of committed now. I can't just walk away.'

'And where did you get the money to pay for a trainer?'

'Oh, it's free.'

'Free?'

'That's how much he believes in me.'

'Really?'

'Yes, really. Why? You don't think I'm any good?'

'No, I think you're okay. I really can't judge that sort of thing. But nobody ever gets something for nothing.'

'Well, I am. Free training. It's true.'

'I believe you. I do, but I think your mom and I should probably meet this trainer.' Mom nods in agreement.

'Alright, I'll talk to him. See what kind of schedule he has this week.'

'Alright. I still want you to get a job. This fighting thing is not something you can do forever. Or make any money at. But I'll let you train since this person was nice enough to give you his time. It's only fair.'

'Awesome! Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.'

'But we want to meet him. Sound good?'

'Yeah, sounds great. That's awesome. And I'll definitely start to look for a job. I will.'

'Here. You can start now.' Dad hands me the classifieds and I take them and head upstairs. Mom gets back into reading her book and Dad waits until I'm headed up the stairs before he and Mom start to talk. I can't make out what their saying, but I don't really care.

I walk into my room and throw the paper on the floor and flop into bed. I stand back up and start throwing my fists through the air. Jabbing and blocking. I get a few punches out before my arms start to ache and my body starts to shoot little pins through the brain. I stop and lay back down on the bed and wait for dinner.

I eat then I watch some movie with the folks. I don't remember much of it. When it's done I get up and thank Mom and Dad again about the training then head up to bed, change, and try to fall asleep. It happens faster than I expect.

#

I open my eyes and look over at the clock. It's six-thirty. I close my eyes back up and try to get a little more sleep in before I need to get up. But it doesn't happen. I get up, get dressed, and head downstairs. I'm a little less stiff than I was yesterday morning. And it gets easier to move the more I do.

I try not to load up on anything heavy. I grab some fruit and some toast. I follow that with a glass of water and start looking through the fridge to pack a lunch. I don't know how long Sam's going to keep me there. She seems serious. So I don't want to risk the chance of not eating. I make myself a sandwich and some fruit. I'll grab a drink at her place.

I sit down with an hour left before I have to be at her place. I stand up and pace the living room until I feel the urge to use the bathroom. I waste a few more minutes getting everything out for the morning and then go back to the living room and pace the floor a little more. Mom and Dad are still in bed so I write them a quick note to let them know where I'll be the rest of the day.

I start to write that I'll ask the trainer about meeting them, but I decide against it and erase what I wrote. I don't want them thinking about it. If they ask, I'll just put it off until I can figure a way to tell my dad that I'm being trained by a fifteen year old girl. And that it's not a waste of time to be doing this. That last one is going to be the key to winning whatever argument comes up later.

I look at the clock by the tv and I still have half an hour before I have to be there, but i figure I should leave early in case I have a hard time finding it. I run back upstairs and grab her address and double check the computer to make sure she lives where I think she lives. She does.

I grab my lunch and bag and head downstairs again and then out the door.

It's really nice out. There's a soft breeze coming in over my few wisps of hair. I have my hoodie on and some sweatpants and a t-shirt. I have my gloves in my bag. I hadn't taken them out since the tryout. I remember what Sam said and I start to run.

It doesn't take any time to get to Sam's. It's a nice looking place. A big white house with a red front door and a nice car parked out front. There's a front gate. It barely comes up to my waist. I start to unlatch the gate, but I stop myself and start heading down the sidewalk again. I'll circle around slowly to kill some time. I don't want to be that guy.

I round the block once. It's a short block so I decide to do it again. I get around the corner and police car pulls up beside me and flashes its lights. I stop and turn to it. I recognize the cops. Same as before.

'Whatcha doing?' The driver asks.

'Just walking around the block.' I answer.

The cop looks at his partner and says something to him before he turns back to me and says, 'Why?'

'I'm just killing time. I was headed over to a friend's.'

'Kinda early on a Saturday, ain't it?' He says.

'Yeah. I guess so. She wanted to get started early.'

'She?' He looks back at his partner again. His partner grabs the radio and starts talking into it. 'Who're you going to see, again?'

'A friend of mine.'

'What's this friend's name?'

'Sam. Samantha.' I'm wondering how much time I've burned.

'Samantha what?'

I sit there stunned for moment. I don't remember her last name. Or if I ever learned it. 'Uh, I don't know.'

'You don't know...'

I shrug.

'Which house are you headed to?'

'I've got the address. Here.' I walk over and hand it to him. He takes it and reads it then shows his partner. They smile at each other and the partner gets back on the radio and talks into it one more time.

'Alright, that checks out.' He smiles and nods as he hands back the address to me. 'It's that way, by the way.' He points behind me as he drives off.

'Yeah, I know I was just killing so-' The car is already down the street and turning the corner before I get it all out.

I turn back around and head to Sam's house.

I walk through the gate and raise up my hand to knock on the door. Suddenly, I realize that Sam probably has parents. But I'm knocking before I can think of what to do next. The idea of meeting them makes me want to drop everything and run back home. If they're anything like the other parents I met when I first moved here, they are going to hate me.

The door opens and Sam is standing there in a baggy blue tracksuit. 'Did you have trouble finding the place?' She asks.

'No.'

She nods me in. 'Oh, cause I saw you pass the house a few times.'

'Oh well, I just got here a little early. Walked the block to kill some time.'

'Oh, okay. Did you run here?'

'Yeah.'

'If you feel like killing time next time then run the block. You need to get conditioned.'

'Alright.' I say.

She walks in front of me and doesn't give me the house tour or anything. She points out where the bathroom is and where the door to the basement is. That's where the weights are. 'We're not going to go down there until after lunch.'

She leads through the living room and to the large sliding glass door in the back of the kitchen. I smell bacon cooking and hear something frying in another pan. A large figure in shorts and a tank top is standing with its back to us as it cooks over the stove.

'Hey, Dad. I'm going to be outside.' Sam says.

The large figure slowly turns around and I know who it is before I see is whole face. It's Willy Barnes. The fighter from the other night. His tongue is hanging partially out. It's pulled back into his mouth as starts to talk. 'So he's the guy, huh?'

I look over at Sam. She's nodding her head. My mouth is hanging open. I look back at Willy Barnes and nod as well. Not sure if that's the right thing to do or not.

'What's your name, kid?'

'Abe Jennings.'

'Alright, Abe. You listen up. I'm not too keen on my daughter training anyone, but she's talked me into it.' He set his hand on his hip and leaned against the counter. 'Now, I'm going to be here all day. You try anything. You get pissed at her. Whatever. I'm going to be out there to beat your ass. All right?'

All I can do it nod.

'Good.' He smiles.

I can feel Sam's body get tense as she lets out a fast 'Dad!' through her teeth.

'Sorry, Sam. You guys go do what you need to do. I'm going to get back to my eggs and bacon.' He waves us off.

Sam shakes her head. 'Sorry about that. He's just being an idiot.'

'That's Willy Barnes!' I say as if I'd followed the man his entire career.

'Yeah. I know.'

'Why didn't you tell me your dad was Willy Barnes?'

'You didn't ask and I didn't think it was important.'

'Not important? I've seen the guy fight. He's awesome!'

'Yeah, I know, but you're not training with him. You're training with me.'

'I know. I'm just saying that he's good. I would have been more inclined to say yes the first time if I had known you knew an actual fighter.'

'I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm recruiting.' She crosses her arms and a serious look covers her face. 'Now, pick up that jump rope by the chair and start jumping.'

I pick it up without thinking and start to leisurely jump. 'So did you learn that move from him?'

'Yep. Learned a lot of things from him. If you don't speed it up, I'm going to show you one of them.'

The rope starts to buzz around my ear. 'So why don't you fight?'

'If you hadn't noticed girls don't fight over at the Bishop.'

'Really?'

'Yes, really.'

'Huh, at Middling we had girl fighters.'

'This isn't Middling. You're slowing down.'

'How many am I supposed to do?' I ask.

'Until I say to stop. You're slowing down again.'

'How fast am I supposed to go?'

'Too fast to talk.'

I pick up the pace and start to feel my muscles going from a slight soreness to a burning that is flowing through my arms. As I jump, trying to keep pace with Sam's directions, I take quick looks over at her. She's got on her dark make up over her smooth face. Her hair's pulled back in a ponytail. She looks nothing like her dad. She looks nothing like me. She looks nothing like any radiation baby I've seen. I've heard of normal looking people getting out of the zone and having normal looking babies before. I've never heard of a mutant getting out and having a normal looking kid.

I keep jumping. Sam is pushing me to go. My lungs are working over time. Sweat is streaming down my face and my body feels ready to stop everything. But I keep going. I keep going and I keep looking at her. All that excitement has burned away and now all I can see is this anomaly standing in front of me. This freak. This fucking lucky shit. Born to a mutant and untouched by any of this shit I have to go through. I keep going and I keep pushing until she tells me to stop and then start on the next thing. I keep going. Doing more and more.

_A mutant gets out of the zone and does well. Has a daughter and she's perfect. Completely normal._ I think this over and over again. It becomes my mantra.

I just listen to her for the rest of the morning. I don't stop until it's lunch then I sit in the chair and my body wants to stay there. I don't know what to do or what to say. I want to keep working. I want to keep working and get my mind off of this.

_How come we didn't know? How come no one told us that we could leave and have normal kids? How come no one told us others were making it?_ I sat in the zone for sixteen years until my parents dragged me out to this place. This place filled with assholes and more assholes. And some mutant was living in the same damn neighborhood I was being shit on by the cops? How come no one ever told me of this?

#

We take a break for lunch. I dig out my sandwich and fruit and Sam grabs me a glass of water from the kitchen. We eat outside. My heart starts to slow down and my head starts to speed back up.

'So, Wally is your dad?' I ask.

'Yeah. I think we've established that.'

'I just want to make sure... He's not like an uncle or anything?'

'Nope. Why are you being so weird about this?'

'It's just that I-' I take a bite of my sandwich. 'That you-'

'Look nothing alike?'

'It's just that I've never seen that. He's a mutant. You're not.'

'He's not a mutant.'

'Well, he is and he isn't? The flyer for the Bishop said he was and look at him. He's a mutant.'

'He's not.' She sets down her sandwich. 'He used to live down in the zone before I was born, but got of there. He wasn't affected by all the radiation like some people were, but he couldn't get a job out here so he worked on the line cleaning up crap from the zone, you know?'

'Yeah, my dad does that kind of thing. He like supervises or something.'

'Yeah, my dad dug and all that crap they hire mutants to do, now. And well, he started getting sick and started looking like that. Eventually, he wasn't any different from all those guys born in the zone.' She shrugs.

'He got it just working there?'

'Yeah, it's not really happened before. They don't know what it is. He got some workers comp and sold off his body to science after he dies. And now we just live off that and whatever he wins from fights.'

'Shit. I didn't think that could happen. I thought you had to be born with a face like this.' I motion to myself.

'Apparently not. No offense.'

'I know what I look like.'

'Yeah, I guess you would.' She laughs.

'So what about you?'

'What about me?'

'Were you born after that happened to him or what?'

'I was born before. He got sick when I was two. Mom left a little after that and it's been me and him since.'

'Wow. Okay.'

'You alright there, dude?'

'Sorry. It's just a lot to take in. I never thought this could happen. My parents were born normal. They moved out here so they could have a normal looking kid and all cause everyone says it's the radiation before you're born that does you in.'

'Well, I guess that's not true.'

'Yeah, I guess not.'

'It's nice to know I'm not the only mutant in town.'

'Nope. You're not.' She points back towards downtown. 'There's also community out in downtown that have been making their way in from time to time.'

'I saw a lot at the fight. I thought they somehow hoofed it up here or something.'

'Nope, they live in the city. They come up here and get crap jobs.'

'Weird. I never knew anyone who left. I had heard things, but the radiation pretty much blocked all communication in the place. We got everything through the paper, but that didn't show up every day. Or every week.' I shake my head. 'It's just a amazing to realize that.'

'Well, you got out.'

'Yeah, I did. But I'm with my parents. I'd known a few freaks to be taken out with their normal looking parents, but no one ever just got up and left when they turned eighteen or something. It just didn't happen.'

'Sounds rough.'

'Yeh, well, it wasn't so bad. Just a way of life we had. Little school. No electronics. Lots of time to kill.'

'Sounds like the perfect recipe for fighting.'

'Exactly.'

Sam looks at her watch and says, 'Alright. I want to get through some stuff in the next few hours. I'm going to have you show me your fundamentals. Then you hit the weights.'

'Alright.' I shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and dig through my bag for some gloves. I grab them, and Sam has me follow her back into her house and down the stairs. Willy Barnes is sitting on the couch watching tv.

We get downstairs and there are weights and a mat and heavy bag and a speed bag.

'Alright. I want to see you hit the bag.'

'The heavy?'

'Doesn't matter. Pick one. Come on.'

'Alright.' I walk over to the heavy bag and start swinging. I try to show her everything I have and get as many punches as I can within the first few seconds.

She stops me. 'Whoa, what are you doing?'

'Hitting the bag.'

'Looks like you're wasting energy to me. You need a little more control when you swing. And you'll get the power and speed you want. Here, let me show you.' She puts her fists up in the air and slowly walks me through the steps to throw a jab. Where I should be when I start and where I should be when I finish and where I should be when I want to follow through with another punch.

I place my hands behind my back and pay close attention as she shows me each step. Then it's my turn and I start to swing at the bag, but she slows me down. Slows me down to a snail's pace as I learn to place each punch exactly where I should. Exactly how I should. This goes on for hours and by the time I'm ready to swing at full speed, she switches me to weights. And I follow along with everything she tells me to do.

#

I woke up Sunday and did pretty much the same thing again with Melanie. This time she switched up the exercises. I concentrated mostly on my technique. It was a nice pace. I left the session with my body still sore but not as bad as I would have imagined it being. It was going well. I was happy.

Mom and Dad were excited that they had found the perfect color for the baby's room. They spent all Sunday working on it. I even helped out a little when I got home from practice. Dad was in such a good mood that he didn't even bother me once about a job or meeting my trainer. We had a nice family dinner and my parents talked about all the things we'd do when the kid showed up.

Dad bitched a little about his work, but it was all smoothing over it seemed. He didn't go into it too much but he seemed happy, too. All in all, it was pretty good day. But that was Sunday.

On Monday, I'm sitting on the roof. Watching some monsters fight in my old hometown.

My phone buzzes and it's Melanie again. I can't believe she's sent me three texts. She must really be desperate for some company. I ignore them and keep watching the horizon with Sam and the other kids. I've never been up here for a fight. Never felt I needed to. I'd seen just about everything down there in the zone. Middling was never hit too bad, but you were close enough you could see gunk between those monsters' toes.

The buildings shake and the sound is nearly deafening. A group of guys cheer on as a large figure raises his claw and slashes across the other. It is too hard to make out which monsters they are. Someone has the radio tuned to the play-by-play, but I don't listen to it. I didn't need to know the details of what is happening over there.

'It's something, isn't it?' Sam asks.

'Yeah.' I'm watching the crowd cheering over the announcer's voice as I see that familiar glow in the distance. One of the monsters is getting ready to unleash some radiation.

'I've always wanted to get close up to see them. Really see what they can do. I've only ever seen them here or online, but it's never any good footage.'

'Yeah, cameras don't work too well in the zone.'

'Yeah.'

'It's nothing special, you know. Seeing them and everything.' She looks at me, waiting for me to continue. 'They're just mounds of dark green scales and muscles.'

'Yeah, up close. But have you ever seen them fighting? I mean like really fighting?'

I think for a minute. I've seen them thousands of times. I know a lot of them by name. But they've only ever been this surreal natural occurrence. They leave so much destruction in their wake, but all you see when you're at the foot of the monster is a foot. And you look up to make out what's going on, but it's just this tower that runs up into the radiation fogs surrounding them. They're just a these creatures. Both real and unreal. Nothing but devastation, but without any true form. They appear suddenly and disappear down into the surrounding earth just as suddenly. As unpredictable as the weather.

Finally I answer, 'No.'

'See that's what you're missing.' Sam says. 'I bet it's spectacular. I bet it's beyond anything we can imagine.'

'Yeah, probably.'

We watch the eerie blue light pulse from the zone. It creates this ripple sensation as it spreads this way and a few seconds later we hear the noise that comes with it. It's like white noise. A bad radio station played through a babbling brook. Louder than anything. Then it dies down and light has faded away. The creatures disappear in the surrounding areas. Back to wherever it is they go.

'You know I met your dad before. At the fight.' I tell Sam as the noise vanishes.

'Yeah, I know. I was waiting and saw you go up to him. He told me all about it. That's how I knew you needed a coach. You know, besides how bad you were.'

'Oh thanks. Why didn't he say something when I met him last time. He acted like he didn't remember me.'

'Don't feel too bad. He has a really shitty memory when it comes to people. He remembered what you said. So, I mean, that's pretty good.'

'Oh, I see. Is he punch drunk or something?'

'No. Not at all. He just didn't remember what you looked like or anything. Why'

I slump my shoulders and look down at my hands. 'I was just wondering what was going on.' The other students and the teachers on the roof were starting to leave and head back to class. Sam and I get up and wait for the crowd to die down before we join them to head to the exit sign.

Kevin, Dweebil, and Joosh jump in behind us. I thought they had already headed back downstairs, but I'm wrong.

'Oh, look. The freak made it up.' Kevin bounces on his heels and smiles. 'Finally find your balls?'

I ignore him. Sam turns around and gives him a look.

Dweebil throws his hands up. 'Oh look out. Looks like Abe here got himself a little bodyguard. Someone who's as scary as he looks.'

'Yeah.' Joosh agrees.

Kevin laughs.

'Get moving guys.' Sam says. The three stand there giggling, eyeing each other. Sam seems set.

'You guys go ahead. We're just waiting to get through.' Kevin shrugs. 'No big deal.' I continue to ignore them and turn my back and get behind the others headed off the roof. Sam eyes Kevin and slowly turns and gets beside me. The three follow up close behind us.

'Dweebil, I wonder what it's like to get up with a face like that every morning?' Joosh asks.

'I don't know, man. It must be pretty hard.'

'Yeah. Real hard. I'd probably put a gun in my mouth. You know, if I could find it.' Joosh adds. I keep walking.

'Oh man, that's just mean.' Kevin says. 'Think of all that blood everywhere. You'll get someone sick for sure. Don't you know these guys are filled with diseases.'

'Oh yeah, you're right. Don't use the gun. How about a good old fashioned rope?'

'Do you think he could get it over his head?'

'Nah. No way.' Dweebil smiles. 'That fucking mutant couldn't even kill himself right.'

'Well, he fucking should.'

'Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!' Sam has her finger out and against Joosh's chest. 'You need to keep your mouth shut, you piece of shit.' Sam pushes her face up closer to Kevin. His face is twisted up and his teeth are showing in a grim scowl.

'Get out of my face, you bitch!' Kevin spits.

'No, you back off. You need to back off. I've seen the shit you give him. You need to back off.'

'Hey, we're just having a little fun. He's not hurting. Are you?' He looks at me. I just look back. I don't feel like saying anything. I just feel like hitting. And hitting him. I just want to keep throwing my fist against all of them. That's all I want to do. My hands are shaking and I am holding them tight by my side. I just want to keep walking down stairs.

'See he's fine.' Dweebil throws in. He shoves Sam forward. 'Now, get going. We've got class to get to.'

The line behind us has died down. There are a few stragglers waiting to see a fight go down, but everyone else has headed down the stairs. Back into school. Sam looks at me and I motion to the door. It's not a time to fight. It's never a time to fight in school. She has to know that. She has to know when to walk away. She heads to the stairs and I follow.

'That's it. Keep walking, mutant. Keep walking.'

Sam and I start down the stairs and the three assholes behind us keep talking shit. And then one of them gets antsy. I don't know which one. 'Hurry up, freak whore.' is all I hear and I see Sam jolt forward. She stumbles on the stairs and keeps going forward, rolling over herself she tumbles down the stairs until she finally stops when the brick wall catches her. Hard.

My blood boils up into my head and I can hear the pounding in my ears as I turn around and grab someone's collar.

'Shit.' It's Joosh's words. It's Kevin's collar. I pull Kevin close and throw my fist into his ribs and try to push my hand through his spine. I throw my head against his and that's all I get before his two friends jump in on me. The crowd below hears the fight and some people are checking on Sam. A few others are rushing up to watch the fight. The rest of the people behind Joosh and Dweebil surge forward and I can't keep my feet under me. I fall back against the rail and I start to feel a few punches against my head. I keep throwing mine into the closest body. I can't make heads or tails of anything. It's just fists and pressure. Nothing more.

I finally get some leverage and pull everything forward. I'm lucky. There are enough people underneath me to keep me from breaking my head against the wall.

I feel a few hands on me and I'm pulled out of the pressure. The crowd starts to break up and I hear 'Break it up! Break it up! What's going here?'

It's a few teachers. They're out of breath and red faced. And not happy.

'What the hell is happening?' One of them looks me straight in the eye. He has me by my forearm. I look around as I'm dragged down the rest of the stairs. I see a few people around Sam. She looks like she's sitting up. I don't struggle the rest of the way.

I get out of the stairwell. Into the hall where the cool air hits me and I take in a deep breath. Joosh, Kevin, and Dweebil follow close behind. There's one teacher to the three of them. She has Kevin by the shirt and the other two walk on their own. We end up in the main office, sitting on chairs.

#

I don't know how long I sit there. It has to be at least an hour. I don't know what they're waiting for, but I watch Kevin go in then Dweebil then Joosh. Then I watch them all leave. Smiling. I wait a little longer after they left. A few teachers walk into the office and back out. Each giving me the evil eye. I just sit there and wait as my nose dries, full of blood and my lip swells. My old bruises come back and some new ones appear. I sit there and wait.

I slink down in my seat as I watch my parents' faces in the office window grow closer. They come in the door and mom smiles at me meekly. Dad just looks at me.

'Son, what happened?' He asks.

I open my mouth to start speaking, but I'm interrupted as the principal comes out. My mom and dad stand up and shake his hand. He's a short man. Shorter than me. He has his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. His face is red and his dark hair is matted against his scalp as if he's been sweating.

'Mr. Jennings. Mrs. Jennings.' He shakes their hands. He invites them into his office and they follow along. And I follow behind them. We all sit down.

'Well, I'm sorry to have you in here under such, well frankly, disappointing circumstances.' The principals starts.

'What exactly has happened? Your secretary wouldn't tell us anything.' My dad asks.

'Well, Abe, here got into quite an altercation with a few of his classmates.' My parents turn to me then back to the principal.

'What exactly happened?'

'Well, from all our eyewitness accounts, your son here, started an argument with three boys up on the roof. He blocked their exit. He threw a punch as the boys tried to head down for class. The boys defended themselves. This would all be bad on its own. But during the scuffle, a young woman was knocked down the stairs and hit her head against a wall.'

'That's not how it happened.' I mutter. My arms crossed.

The principal pauses for a second and glances in my direction. 'Luckily, she's doing alright. But we can't have that kind of behavior in this school. You understand?'

'That's not how it happened.' I say again.

My mom grabs my hand and holds onto it. She gives it a squeeze and Dad barely makes eye contact with me. The principal smiles and leans back in his large leather chair. He folds his hands over his stomach and continues, 'Now, you know that I fought long and hard to get Abe here into the school system. We had a lot of trouble getting parents and teachers to take a risk with a--uh, someone like him.'

My dad nods his head.

'And I don't really want to throw all that effort down the drain. Now, I'm sure Abe does know how hard you two worked to give him an opportunity here.'

'I'm sure does know.' My dad says.

'Well, that being said, the boys' parents are trying to pressure me to expel Abe here. The administration is breathing down my neck on top of that. But don't worry, I've been able to get the punishment reduced down to a month's suspension.'

'A month?' Mom finally says.

'Yes, I'm afraid that's the best I can do. The administration really wanted to expel Abe from the school system entirely. But I can't imagine it would be easy to find somewhere else to go after having something like that on his record. That wouldn't be right for the rest of his family.'

'I see.' Mom places her hands on her stomach. 'Well, we have settled into the neighborhood. I wouldn't want to move.'

'That's exactly my thought. So we'll put him on probation after he returns and as long as he keeps his nose clean, we won't have any problems.'

'Well, that seems fair.' My dad says.

'Dad?' I try to speak up.

He turns to me and says, 'We'll talk about this when we get home Abe.'

I give up. I don't fight back. I always knew it would go down like this. Since the first day of school when some kids spit on me and dumped my bag out in the hall, I got called into the office that day too. My parents don't know that, but I was. I was warned. I was lectured. They wanted me to know that I was on thin ice from the start. That my parents could see all their hopes washed out. The principal knew that my parents were here to have a normal looking kid. Everyone in town knew that. Word travels fast when people make it out of the zone. Especially when those people have a mutant kid in tow. These people know how much I've got to lose.

So keep my mouth shut and I try to keep my head together. I think about the fight. Not the fight I just had, but the fight I'll have. The one that will get me in the Bishop. The fight that will get me back in the cage. That's what I concentrate on. I have to keep that in my head or I think about Sam with blood on her head and three assholes throwing fists against me. And this short, red faced prick smiling at me while he fucks over my life. Then I think of the worst things possible. Just making things easier for everyone else around. But I don't want to go there. Not now. So I think of the fight.

My parents say a few other things. The principal shakes his head then they all stand up and shake hands. And we head home.

#

Back home, I go straight up to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Mom helps me out. I sit on the toilet with my shirt off and Mom goes over the scrapes and bruises. Cleaning what she can. She wants to take me to the hospital, but Dad and I talk her out of it. No one out of the zone will take a mutant. Maybe if it's some kind of emergency. But I doubt it.

Even after all these years, there's the fear of radiation and diseases. That my blood just carries the worst of the worst.

I wince a little as she cleans out a large cut across my nose. I didn't even notice it until now. Dad's outside, pacing the backyard with a cigarette in his mouth. He hardly touches the stuff now, but I guess this sent him over the edge.

I'm just glad I haven't had to hear too much shit from him. The car ride was pretty silent. I decided to wait him out. I'll let him make the first move. That's for the best. I don't want to instigate anything with him. Mom's different. I can at least say something without worrying that it will automatically be thrown back into my face.

'Sorry, Mom.' I say as she takes a damp cloth to my back.

'For what?' She asks.

'For getting kicked out of school.'

'You weren't kicked out, you were suspended, Abe.'

'What's the difference?'

'You get to go back.'

'Great.' I sigh.

Mom keeps cleaning me up. I'm pretty sure she should be done by now, but she's always paranoid about me getting sick or something getting infected. It's always been like that. Probably comes from raising a kid out in the zone.

'I know it's not your fault, Abe. You dad does too.' She keeps washing.

'Well, he sure doesn't act like it.'

'He's just stressed. It's a lot harder living out here than we thought it was going to be.'

'Money?' I look up at her.

'No, your dad makes enough.' She stops finally and looks back at me. 'It's the other things. Like his job. And the people here. It's just so different from Middling. It really is.'

'You're not thinking of moving back are you?' I meant to sound excited. Interested. Instead, I say it with a little fear.

'No. We're not. We moved out here for a reason and we're going to see it through.' She doesn't like saying the reason is a normal looking kid. At least not to me. She tries to be nice about it. Something I appreciate, but I understand. It's something any parent wants. Hell, if I was having a kid I'd live in a place like this. And maybe I will, I mean, check out Willy and Sam Barnes. If a mutant could have a normal looking kid outside of the zone then it's worth it. Of course, Willy wasn't born a mutant which fucks with the mind on a whole other level.

'Then what, Mom?' I ask.

'We just know it's not easy for you. If it's not easy for us then it has to be just as hard for you. I remember how school was. It's always a rough time. And you're different from everyone else here which must be pretty hard.'

'I'm fine, Mom. It's not a big deal.'

'You're a good kid. I'm just saying that we know none of this is your fault. That's all.'

'Alright.'

Mom stands up and rinses off the washcloth and takes it with a few odds and ends out of the bathroom. I'm still sitting on the toilet as she heads downstairs. She shouts back at me to clean myself up so I close the door and peel off the rest of my clothes as best I can. My body aches, but nothing is in a sharp pain which is good. Everything is just the dull, hard pain you get from bruises. Nothing I can't handle.

I get into the shower and turn the handle until the right temperature is coming out of the pipes. I hit the switch and the water moves from filling the bathtub to hitting my face. I just stand there and let the water run over me. I have to move myself around in order to get the water where I need it. I look down and I see some red thinning near my toes, and I feel around my face and that gash across my nose stings at the touch. It stings when the water hits it too. I'm going to have to check it out in the mirror when I get out. I make a mental note to do so.

I'm standing there with my chin on my chest, looking down at the red turn to pink and swirl away into the drain. And a wave hits me. I wasn't expecting it. I start to shudder and shake and that choking feeling is crawling up my throat as I try to keep it together, but I hear myself whimpering and I can't hold onto it. At some point, I don't want to and I just let it go. I let it start coming out. I'm crying. Balling my eyes out. It's just a knotl of hurt in the pit of my stomach. A ball that I didn't know was there to be honest. I thought it was all rolling off of me, but I was wrong. Some of it has been sitting there. Just collecting. And apparently it's had enough.

I cover up my eyes like it matters. And I start sobbing into my hand. I'm leaning against the wall with my free hand and trying to stay standing. It doesn't want to stop.

I'm shocked by all the thoughts that flow out of my head. I think about the move. I think about the first day of school. I think about the loneliness. I think about Melanie. I think about the fight. The one in school. The one out of school. I think about Sam. I think about Willy. I think about my dad and my mom and how shitty of a son I am. I think about how happy I am not to be going to school for a month. And I think about how sad that makes me. I think about everything. I think about dying. I think about living. I think about showing them all up. I think about how different the world will be in ten years. I think about how afraid I am it will be the same. I think about Middling. And monsters. And fighting. And twisted looking children laughing in the playground with normal looking kids. I think about how unfair it is. I think about all of that. And I keep thinking until I'm not thinking at all and I am sitting on the floor of the bathtub just crying my eyes out and hoping that my parents don't hear.

#

'So what are you going to do now?' Dad says.

'I don't know. What does someone do when they're suspended?' I ask.

'Don't get smart with me. Just tell me your plans to fill you time. You're not going to be sitting around all day. That's not good for anyone. That just leads to trouble.'

It's the first words he's spoken to me since the meeting with the principal. We're sitting down at the table for a nice meal of frozen dinners. I actually like frozen dinners, they remind me of living in Middling, but since moving here Mom has been on a healthy, fresh food kick.

'Sorry, dad. I don't know. Probably train. A lot. Not much else for me to do.'

'You can get a job.' He says.

'Doing what?' I cut into my salsbury steak.

'You come down and work for me. It's about time you saw all of that.'

'I don't want to work on the radiation crew, Dad.' It just came out.

'Oh really? You can't help keep crap from leaking out of the zone?' He holds his fork waiting for me.

'No, I don't want to do that. I don't. Maybe if I was still living in Middling I would, but I'm not so I don't want to.'

'I see. Not something you want to do. Then let me ask you this, what are you planning to do instead of that. And don't say fighting.'

'Why not? It can't be any worse than pulling twelve hour days cleaning radiation.'

'Cause it's not a real job. Look. I'm happy you've found a coach and everything, but you're not going out and fighting when you've just been suspended from school for fighting.'

'Well, I'm going to be training. I don't fight cause I haven't passed the tryouts yet. But if it'll make you feel better, you can look for a job for me.'

'Mom, you heard your son just agree to working. Right?'

Mom doesn't say anything, but she reaches over and pats his hand. Dad smiles and gets back to his tv dinner. I finish mine up and head upstairs to go to bed. It's kinda early, but I'm sore and tired so the sleep hits me pretty quickly.

#

The next morning, the house is empty. Dad is at work and Mom left a note saying she'd be out running errands pretty much all day. I look at the clock. I slept in pretty late. It's already 10 a.m. I was hoping to get an early start and hit the pavement. Get my running in before the sun gets to high today, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen.

I'm sore, too. Very sore. I need to stop getting the crap beat out of me. I decide to go outside now. Or I'll just end up on the couch watching tv for the rest of the day. I get to the sidewalk but I can't even muster a decent jog for more than a few steps so I just walk as fast as I can.

My phone had a few missed texts from Melanie last night. The first two were the usual. The last two seemed concerned though she still wanted me to meet her at our usual place. If I hadn't knocked out so early I might have taken her up on the offer. It would have been a nice little pick me up for a pretty shitty day.

The gash on my nose seems to be doing okay. I put a bandaid on it before I hit the bed last night. It felt worse than it actually was.

I keep walking quickly. I've got no real plan in my head so I just walk on instinct. I notice that I'm headed over to Sam's. I should check to see if she's doing alright. I don't even know if she's home or not. I really should have called her last night to see how everything was. I'm such a shitty friend.

I head that way and a familiar siren blips next to me and I slow down. It's the same guys as before. It's always the same guys around here. They probably have just one squad car to keep track of the mutant in the neighborhood. Make sure I'm not up to any of my mutant ways.

'Hey, shouldn't you be in school?' A cop yells from the window.

I look over at him and frown. 'I'm sick.'

'Jesus, buddy, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got hit by the Titanic.' He nudges his partner to take a look at me. The partner twists up his face and looks away.

I didn't think I looked too bad when I saw myself in the mirror while taking a piss in the bathroom this morning. I guess my standards are little bit more shaky than theirs.

'Look, if you're sick you shouldn't be out wandering the street. Where are you headed?' The cop asks.

'Uh, just over to Willy Barnes. Like last time.' I point down the street.

'Oh, Willy. Alright. He got something cooked up for you or what?'

I don't know what to say so I nod my head.

'Alright, you mutants and your weird medicine shit. Alright, just try to keep the walking outside to minimum if you can. Will ya?'

'Sure thing.' And the car pulls off. The cop speaks into the radio as it does.

I make my way to Willy Barnes' place with no other interruptions even though the damn cop car passes me twice during that time.

#

I knock on the door and wait. The door opens and Willy Barnes is staring at me across the threshold. I can see his mind trying to remember who I am or maybe just why I'm there.

'Yeah?' He final says.

'I just dropped by to see how Sam was doing.'

He just continues to stare at me.

'I'm Abe. I train with Sam.'

'Yeah, I know who you are.'

'Well, I was just seeing how she's doing. I'm not in school right now so I don't know if she's alright or not.'

He nods his head slowly. 'Come on in.'

I follow him through the doorway.

He starts talking again. 'She's asleep upstairs. She took a real spill, you know. I won't let her back in school just yet.'

'But she's fine?'

'Oh yeah. She's like me. Got a tough noggin.' He knocks his knuckles against his head. 'She's just a little shook up. You want a drink?' He offers me a seat as I follow him into the kitchen.

'Sure.' I sit down.

He grabs a couple of glasses out of the pantry and fills them both with tap water from the sink. 'Here you go.'

'Thanks.' The water's warm. I take a look around the kitchen and really see how empty the place it. There's an island with a few stools and a table off to the side with two chairs, but there's nothing sitting out on the counters or any magnets hanging on the fridge. the whole place seems barely lived in. Willy sits there drinking his water and watches me in silence.

'She told me what happened.' Willy smiles roughly.

'Yeah...'

'Yeah. Don't worry. This shit happens. It ain't easy being like this. I know. Don't beat yourself up over it.'

'I'm not. I didn't do anything wrong.' I say.

'I know. Well, if you thought you did, I'm just saying you don't have to worry about it.'

'All right.'

'You know it's funny I used to be just like those guys.'

'Yeah, Sam told me you were normal.'

He shakes his head and waves the comment off. 'No. I mean I was like those guys. I was an asshole. I was pretty bad out there on the job. I'd lay in pretty hard to the mutants out there on the line.' He paused and took a drink. 'They'd bus in all the freaks and weirdos from the zone to do clean up. They were in the thick of it. I was on the normal side. We just handled containment. This was before the zone started growing and spilling over and this happened.' He points to his face. 'We used to toss shit at them. Call them every name in the book. Shit like that.' Willy starts to laugh to himself and let's out a slow sigh.

'Sounds, uh, interesting.'

Willy looks at me and pats me on the back after taking anything swig of water. 'Don't worry, kid. Those days are behind me. It's hard to be an asshole looking like this.' He smiles and that large tongue of his rolls out of his lopsided head and swings freely in the air.

'Well, that's good to hear.' I smile. He gives me a wink.

'So, let me ask you. Is Sam a decent coach?' He leans in close. 'Now be honest.'

'Yeah, the best I've had so far. Not that I've ever had a coach before.'

Willy let's out roar of laughter and his tongue bobs up and down as he smiles and slaps the table. 'Well, that's a good. Best you've ever had and you haven't had any. I guess I'll take that as best a compliment as one can get.'

He raises his glass and I raise mine, but I don't know why. He shrugs and there's a clink and he finishes off his water and asks if I want anymore. 'It's no trouble.' He adds.

'I'm good.' I reply.

He tells me about his experience fighting and all the trouble he used to get into before he turned into a mutant. He tells me there's a whole bunch of guys like him downtown. A bunch of normal people just started to turn into freaks after a while. No one could explain. At first, the town tried to chase them out into the zone, but the zone wouldn't take them. Not enough room they said. So all the new freaks and weirdos got little rooms downtown. The shitty side of the city.

'No one would talk about it for years. We were invisible. Completely gone. But slowly, people who lived downtown already started to get to know us and they're all cool about it there. Here. On the other side of the tracks it's a different story. Still ignored. Or harassed. They don't like us being here.'

'Why'd you stay then?' I ask.

'It's my home. This place has always been my home. Not that I lived in the good area all my life, but I always wanted to so when I could afford to I moved here. And I plan on dying here. This is where I belong. No one is going to chase me out.' He smiles again.

He's shocked that I've never heard of any of this, but I tell him nothing really gets into the zone. It's a deadzone. No one bothers us except for some census people every few years, but hardly anyone tries to leave or stay gone for long. Even then they can't communicate. No post office in town.

'Well, shit, son. That sounds pretty rough.'

'Nah, it's alright. I didn't think it was weird until I moved here.'

'I can see that.'

We keep talking for a few more hours. He offers to deliver any messages I might have to Sam. I tell him just to have her call me when she's ready to train me. He says he will and I leave my number. And head home.

#

I get in to the door and Mom greets me. She asks where I've been and I tell her I've been out just getting some fresh air. She says, 'That's good. Just don't look like you're enjoying your suspension too much. Especially when Dad gets in.'

'I won't.' I say. I kill some time and watch some tv and take a nap on the couch before Dad finally shows up from work. He's dragging himself.

'Rough day?' Mom asks. He just looks at her and smiles and gives her a kiss. He says hello to me and I say hello back to him. He asks me how my day off was. I tell him it was pretty boring. He says, 'Good.'

Mom makes some beef stew and some vegetables on the side. For whatever reason I'm starving then I realize I hadn't really eaten anything all day. I don't know where my head has been. I dig into the food and start to put it away. Dad starts talking about work. I'm not really paying attention. Mom is talking to him about it and I hear a few things in between mouthfuls. I finally slow down from eating and look up. Dad says my name a second time.

'Hello, Abe. Earth to Abe.' He waves his hand around with a tired smile. 'I've got some good news for you.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah, I talked to some guys at work and they'd be happy to let you come in this month.'

'Let me-say what now?' I swallow the last of the chewed beef in my mouth.

'They'll let you come work. You know. Work. Get paid. All that stuff.' He smiles a little wider as if to seemed enthused, but he just looks even more tired.

'Oh. I see.'

'Yep.' Dad keeps smiling.

'So when do I start?'

'Right away.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Yeah. Tomorrow. Bright and early. You won't work under me, but you have the same schedule so I can take you there and bring you back.'

'All day?' I ask.

'All day, every day. Full time for the rest of the month. I'm not going to have you sitting around here doing nothing. I'm not going to have it. Who knows what kind of trouble you'll get in to?'

'Well, Dad. See, that's going to be a problem cause I've got training to do.'

'Oh right. Training. That's important. Did you train today?' He asks.

'No, but-'

'Why not?'

'The trainer was sick today so I couldn't do anything.'

'Well, did you run or something?'

'No.' I say.

'Then you had a whole day to do some training and you chose to do nothing instead. I'm sorry, son, but that's not good enough. You need structure in your life. You need to realize what it means to work so you can get some responsibility in that head of yours. You haven't done much for the last couple of days. Have you been training since you were kicked out of school?'

'Well, no. But I am now.'

'That seems convenient.'

'What're you trying to say?' I ask.

'I'm just saying that it seems to be convenient you don't have anything to do when your days are free. Just like it's convenient when you all of a sudden have training when I start to get after you to get a job.'

'I guess.'

'Well, it's not going to kill ya to go out there tomorrow and miss another day of training. You might even like it. It's decent pay. You'll be making some money.'

I just stare back at him.

'Abe, your mother and I just want you to get yourself together. Life's hard enough out there without you making it difficult. We wanted you to do well and go to school here and we still do, but this past week showed us that there's still a lot of problems out there and finishing school might not be for you.' Dad looks over at Mom.

'Wait. What do you mean? I not going back to school after this?' I ask.

'We'll have to see, but we really need you to try this, Abe.' Mom says. 'You need to have a back up plan. So just give it a shot for me.'

The phone starts ringing and I just sit there. I start to wonder how long they've been planning for this. Mom gets up to get the phone and comes back to say it's for me. I get up and answer. It's Sam. She's calling to thank me for coming over. I ask her when we should start training again and she's says in a couple of more days. She's still getting dizzy when she gets up. She says she'll be fine in a few days and that she'll call me when she's ready to go. I ask her what the doctors said. She say it's nothing and that she'll be fine and she'll see me in a few days. I say okay and hang up with her.

I get back to the table and cross my arms and ask my dad how much the job pays. Mom and Dad smile and Dad starts to lay it all out. I sit there listening as best I can, but all I can think about is the fight. Getting back into the fight again.

#

'Rise and shine!' Dad says as he kicks open my bedroom door to wake me up for my first shift. I lift my head from the pillow and slowly shake it. He tells me to be ready in half an hour. I lower my head back to the pillow and let it sit there for I don't know how long. Dad walks by the door again and says, 'Twenty minutes!' in a voice that is louder than anything I have ever heard.

I jerk my head and my shoulders follow as I am sitting on the edge of the bed trying to get my legs to lift me up and take me across the room to my closet. I finally get up and stumble around the room looking for the light. When I find it and flick the switch. I wish I had stayed in bed as the brightness pierces through my eyelids. I get my pants on and a t-shirt on and grungy hoodie from the back of my closet and head downstairs.

Dad is already down there packing up some lunches. He's dressed in a work shirt and jeans like he is every morning.

'Aren't you going to eat?' He asks.

'It's too early for food.' I reply and sit down in one of the chairs in the kitchen to put my shoes on.

'You're going to wish you had once we get out there for a few hours.'

'Fine.' I say and I reach for a banana and spend the rest of the morning chewing on it. Dad finally finishes up and we head out the door and to the truck.

The ride is silent. We take the old highway out of town. It's the same one we took out of the zone. The old highway has been the only way in or out all these years. When the monsters first appeared it was the exit out of the zone for a lucky few. Local authority cracked down on it pretty quickly once the radiation readings went public. No one went in or went out without an okay from the President. No One watches it now, it's just too damn hard to get out.

And for the first decade it was the army's job to maintain the borders. Mostly clean up. Then it went private somewhere along the way. At least that's the story we hear in history class. That version's pretty similar in the zone or out of it. But I've never heard much about the riots and the shooting that happened in the early years, not out here anyway. All you hear about is how considerate the local government was to grant the mutants equal rights, after the federal government stepped in. Doesn't mean any from the zone stands a chance out here.

We pull off the old highway onto a newer looking ramp. Dad takes it down into a little ravine. _Toxic Crusaders Inc._ is written across a large board tied to a chain link fence. There are trucks scattered around the inside of the fence. Some guys are pulling in like us, others have already been there for a while and are headed home. A few trailers are lined up right behind the trucks.

Dad parks and we get out. Immediately I feel that familiar pulsing warmth that the zone has. I never really noticed it until I left.

'Come on.' Dad motions for me to follow as he heads towards one of the trailers.

It's a simple pale color that has rusty moving up the siding like mold. The air in the trailer is warmer than it is outside. It's filled with the smell of old coffee and men. There are a few tiny desks lined up against the wall and at the far end is a large one facing out over everything. A large man sits behind it. He has a gruff face and large neck that hangs down over the shirt collar from age and weight. He's puffing on a cigar and looking at something on his desk when we walk up.

'Mr. Arnold.' My dad says. The large, white haired man looks up and pulls his cigar from his mouth.

'Ah, Jennings, you brought the boy along finally.' He smiles at me. I don't respond.

'Yep, This is Abe. I finally talked him into coming down and seeing what this is all about.'

'Well Abe, it's good of you to join us. Never too early for a kid to learn some responsibility you know?' He looks me over and mumbles to himself a bit. He looks down at some papers on his desk. The cigar is back in his mouth. 'Let's see where was I going to put him. Oh right, I was going to put him over there with Blyberg. That shouldn't be too much for his first day.'

'Oh yeah, I know Blyberg. That sounds good.'

'Good. You could walk him over there if you want. So he doesn't get lost out here.'

'Sure. Thanks again, Mr. Arnold. I appreciate your help in this.'

'Don't worry about it.' Mr. Arnold waves us off and places his concentration back to his desk. He's chomping on his cigar. Going over it in his mouth.

Dad says, 'I'll see ya at the meeting.' as we head out and Mr. Arnold waves us off one last time. His eyes still on his desk.

Dad takes me over to Blyberg. Along the way he points out as much as he can. He shows me the lead blocks that are put in place to stop the radiation from pushing it's way out of the zone. They replace them every few years. He shows me the trucks that haul out all the old sludge that's sitting on the edge of the zone. He tells me that the company takes it out and processes it to make their money off the project. He shows me the clean up crew when the sludge spills. Finally, he stops to talk to some guys working the line. Guys in brown coveralls and face masks breaking up the sludge from the ground and pulling it out to be put in the truck. It looks like real grunt work.

The sludge pulsates a bright green at its very edges as it touches new earth. The deeper you look into the zone, the darker it gets. It become a dark purple after a few yards.

Dad walks up to one of the workers standing on the edge. The guy isn't dressed like the others. He has a full hazsuit on. Covering him from his head to his feet in bright yellow, plastic protection. He turns around and I can see him smile as the speaker on his chest crackles.

'Hey, Jennings. How's it going?' He asks.

'Not too bad, Blyberg.' Dad grabs me around the shoulder. 'I brought my son out here. Arnold said he'll work on your crew.'

'Well, that works for me. We're short a few hands over here. It'll be good to have another body around here.' Blyberg's heavy electronic voice breaks through the air.

I try to get out a stupid smile so he sees that I'm friendly. I'm already thinking of getting out of here and never coming back. The place smells of burning skin and sulfur. Dad pats me as he says something to Blyberg. They exchange pleasantries and Dad is headed out of the area before I can bring my attention back to the conversation.

Blyberg looks me over and points over to a small cart a few yards away. 'You're going to need to suit up, kiddo. They're over there.'

'Thanks.' I reply and head towards the cart. I look inside the small blue box on wheels and there's just a heap of what looks like old rags at the bottom. I reach down to the bottom and the rags are just worn to shit coveralls. They don't look like they'd protect me from a skinned knee. The place is depressing and I think about running straight into the zone and letting all that sludge fill my lungs as I sink into it.

But I think about getting out of here and the fight and Sam and everything else. So instead, I put the coveralls on over my clothes and zip up.

Blyberg points me over to a crowd of guys wading up to their ankles in sludge. They're digging in deep with a some shovels. The shovels sink in easily and as soon as a pile of the crap is lifted out and thrown in the wheelbarrow it is replaced. The crew keeps on going. Blyberg's smile is gone now as he keeps pointing towards the guys. Finally I hear him sigh. 'I want you over there. They'll tell you what to do. And here.' He hands me a shovel.

I walk over to the guys and they look up and nod. Their faces are all twisted up and hang long. It doesn't look like they do much smiling here. I start digging alongside them. Blyberg stands and watches for a few short minutes then walks off. As soon as he vanishes behind the trailer, one of the guys starts to ask me questions.

'Who are you, man? Blyberg don't come out of that trailer for no one.' One asks me. His right eye drooping well below his cheek. The others wait and listen, still shovelling away.

'No one. My dad just got me a job here.' I reply.

'Who's your dad?' Another asks. His mouth is filled with two large teeth on his bottom row which pushes his swollen lip out.

'The guy who brought me here.'

'Mr. Jennings? He's your dad?' The tooth filled mouth asks.

'Wow. I didn't know he was from the zone.' Another says.

'No wonder he treats his crew decent.' Says the one with the eye.

'My name's Ellen.' The one with the fat lip says. I realize that it's a she behind those harsh features. A mistake that can happen often in the zone.

'I'm Rich.' Says the one with the droopy eye. He then rattles off the names of the other guys standing around. There's one other woman there besides Ellen. None of the others say much.

Ellen and Rich bombard me with questions while I try to keep working. I'm answering and digging as fast as I can. They tell me to slow down as I'll be at this all day, but I'm trying to think of it as a training exercise. I want to dig in short quick bursts and go as long as I can maintain it.

The group is shocked to find out that I live over in Keystone. Most of them live in the Zone and commute here everyday on some rinkydink bus. Rich lives out in downtown Keystone right around the Bishop. He was like Willy Barnes. He changed over time into a mutant like me.

'I tried to live in "normal" places, but I couldn't take it. No one wanted me there. No one. An old work buddy of mine named Willy stuck it out. I have no idea how he does it. I just couldn't do it.' Rich shakes his head.

'It's rough.' I say. I tell him that I know Willy and all that. Rich asks how he's doing and I tell him as much as I can and that seems enough for Rich. He asks me if I ever go to those fights out there at the Bishop. I tell him I've only been there a couple of times, but I'm hoping to go again. We keep chatting until someone clears their throat and we look over at the trailer and a shadow is making its way around. Blyberg is attached to that shadow.

He comes out and stands there with his hands on his hips. We just keep working. He paces back and forth for what seems like forever. Everyone is visibly nervous as they keep eyeing Blyberg each time they take a shovel full over to the wheelbarrow. Finally, Blyberg walks back to the trailer and I hear a door slam. The rest of the crew breathes a sigh of relief.

'I hope you plan on sticking around kid. You just made our lives a lot easier.' Rich pats me on the back before plopping his way through the sludge.

I mutter out, 'Okay.'

#

The day ends finally and I take off my coveralls and throw my shovel in the pile with everyone else's. The guys are smiling and talking shit as I start to make my way back to my dad's truck. Rich stops me and asks me if I wanted to head for a drink with them tonight. I tell him I don't. That I'm only sixteen. He lets out a laugh and pats me on the back again then says, 'Oh. Alright then.'

He heads back over to the group and I look back real quick to see Blysberg come rampaging out of his trailer and throwing his arms around as he points and yells at the edge of the zone where we'd been working all day. A few yell back at him, but then quickly quiet down. After a few more shaking heads they all head back to the pile of shovels and get back into their coveralls. Blysberg looks back at me and folds his arms. Then continues yelling at the crew. I quickly turn away and keep marching towards the truck.

#

Dad asks me how everything went. I give him a shrug and lean back into my seat. I feel sore. But not a good sore. Not the kind I get from a few hours of working out or even those few minutes in the ring I had a while back.

It's a numb ache in the back of my head and behind my eyes. I'm too drained to do anything else tonight. Too tired or bored to think really. It's pitiful.

Dad doesn't push it. For that I'm thankful.

The silent ride ends and I head straight for bed while Dad tells Mom to leave me alone.

#

I get up before Dad can sneak in to wake me up. I'm already out the door, too. I don't want to see his face right now. I don't want to go back to that mess and break my back with all the other mutants. So I get the pavement under my feet and I start to run.

It's still dark out. A good reason to have the cops on me. But I don't think they wake up before 8am in this part of town.

I feel my body want to stop. The muscles are pulling in every direction as I kick my legs forward. My arms swing smoothly but they pull at my neck. It hurts. But not that hurt that makes you want to keep pushing forward. Not the kind that taunts you to be a little bit faster, a little bit stronger than you think you are. No. This is the kind of pain that just asks you to curl up and forget the rest of the world. The kind that doesn't give you anything but a sore back at the end of the day. That useless kind of pain.

#

I think I'm going to die today. It's all coming down on me. That heavy cloud that hangs over my head day in and day out. It's coming back down on me with a vengeance. I can barely pull my head out of the bed. It's filled with pressure and anxiety. And this struggle. This struggle that we're all going through doesn't seem worth it. Not one bit of it.

I don't see how this is going to change anything. I don't see how making it as a fighter does anything for anyone. I'm not special I'm not worthy and I all want to do it lie down and cry. Lie down, as close the dirt as I can possibly get. As near to my true position in life.

This feeling lasts with me throughout the day.

All I want is for someone to come and wrap their arms around my neck and squeeze. Give me a loving hug. By I try to avoid my parents all day so I don't break down in front of them because it's all sitting there right on the edge and it doesn't feel like it's going to go away this time. Dad's been at work. So that's easy. But I know he'll be hunting me down sooner or later. I've missed two days in a row. I'm sure I'm not welcome back.

The muscles around my mouth and in my eyes feel like they've swallowed bitter pills and keeping pulling at me. They want to contort and swell up with anger and sadness. And I don't know why.

I don't want to end my life but something like a ghost keeps blowing that chilling impression through my veins. I'm worthless dead man pretending to live.

But I won't give up. I won't. There's so much out there for me. For everyone. I might not climb to the top of the fighting pile. Hell. I might just fuck it all up and spend my days lying on the floor of the cage with blood and bruises sitting on me like loving pets. I might do all that but at least I'll be doing something that I want to be doing. Something that others may scorn or not understand. Or maybe one kid will see that some freak faced mutant stood up and took a swing along side all the normals. And that might start something. Might inspire someone to do something. Someone with better skills and a better brain to fight in a way I'd never be able to.

I'm not going to give up.

But this feeling stays with me all day. And I go through it hurting every bit of the way. And I don't remember anything excepting getting to bed and wondering if I'll be getting up the next morning.

#

Sam calls me at four in the morning. An hour before Dad is expected to come barging through the door to wake me up. I heard him come in last night. He headed straight to bed. He pulled a double shift. He's always completely burned out after that.

I'm not trying to be a coward. It's just easier this way. I know I'm not going to get anywhere with them. They've already written me off and put all their hopes and dreams on the normal kid that hasn't even poked its head out yet. I don't know.

But now I found something else. Something that might not put in a comfortable place like this. Hell, it might just leave me bloody and even more twisted when it's all over with, but it gets me excited. It lifts me up. Doesn't just make the heart pound with anger and fear.

I head out the window and swing down from a tree limb hanging outside my bedroom. It's not the most graceful exit but it works. I head down the road quickly, hoping that the cops haven't decided to come cruising by this early. Sam is waiting for me at her house. The front light on. Her dad still asleep.

I'm just starting my day.

#

Sam leads me outside to the backyard through her nice house.

'Here.' She tosses a few dumbbells to me. Five pounders.

'These are kinda small, don't ya think?'

'Yeah, but you're a skinny guy. You're not going to be putting on the weight anytime soon. So we'll stick with those.'

I look down at them.

'It's going to be about speed. And endurance. That's what you're going to be about.' She nods quickly and has me start doing burpees.

My legs were ready to give out after the first five. My arms were close behind. Those five pound weights get heavy pretty quickly.

She has me stop before I give and has me sprint across the yard shooting my fists out in front of me. I'm swinging in the air trying not to let the extra weight in my hands pull my shoulder muscles. I grit my teeth and keep swing. And squatting. And running. And everything else she's asking me to do. Her father opens the back door and watches.

I notice the daylight is starting to break. It's really beautiful. Or it would be if the sun wasn't hitting me in the eyes every time I sit up. My stomach muscles are killing me. Forget my legs. Forget my arms. Those stomach muscles get ripped to shreds and never come back right. It burns from ribs to my thighs and I can't stand up straight. I stop moving before she's ready to let me finish.

'Well, that was pretty good.' She stands over me with her backpack on and ready for school while I'm still panting. 'We'll talk about our schedule after school. Alright?'

My vocal chords squirt out a whispered 'Yes'. My diaphragm doesn't want to work right now. I roll over on my side. I know I'm not going to school. Or back home. Or anywhere right now. I just sit and wait until my body feels okay to move.

I sit there and wonder if it was this hard when we first started. I don't remember it being this hard. Maybe all it takes is a few days not doing anything. I finally get to my feet and walk over to the back door. Sam's dad is cooking himself breakfast. I walk through the door and take a seat at the bar hoping he'll offer me some water.

'Here. Have some of this.' He tosses me a plate of eggs and bacon and toast. I start eating. I didn't think I was this hungry, but I am. I just wish my arms would let me move faster, but I have to take my time. The ache is horrible.

'You shouldn't have missed all those practices. Abe.' He fixes himself some eggs and bacon and toast. Much more than what was on my plate. 'That's why she punished you today.'

'Is she planning on doing it again?' I ask through buttered toast.

'Are you planning on missing anymore workouts?'

I shake my head.

'Then I think you're safe. But she's not going to play games. If you want to do this, you have to get in there. This is too important to her.'

'Okay. I got it.' I reply.

We finish eating our breakfast in silence. When we are done he asks me where I am staying at. I think about going home, but I skip it. I'm not ready for going back there. So I tell him nowhere in particular and shrug. And he takes me over to the Bishop.

#

It's hot and smells of the night before. He flicks the lights on I hear the fluorescent buzzing all around. The chairs are still there and the ring. Everything is painted a firehouse red. Except for a few highlights of black on the ring and the back of the chairs.

'Here.' He hands me a few folded chairs. And I look around. 'Over there against the wall.' He motions.

I spend the next few hours picking up chairs, taking down the ring, and mopping up the floor. A few fighters come in halfway through and start setting up all their equipment. Hanging bags are rolled out. Mats are dusted off and thrown across the floor. Weights are carried over and dropped with a thud. Ropes are untangled. And when it's all done, there are dozens of guys in the gym, running through drills.

And I stand there off to the side unsure of what to do. Luckily, Mr. Barnes pulls me over to him.

'Here. Hold this bag for a bit.' He pushes over a large punching bag that's been taped and reworked over and over again. It's lumpy and barely there. It fits in my arms perfectly.

'No. Take a swing pushing from your legs up through your hips.' He's talking to the fighter. A tall dark guy with long ears and uneven eyes.

He takes a swing and it knocks me back.

'No, like this.' Mr. Barnes swings and I feel it through my chest. The air escapes in one puff.

I try not to show my discomfort as my lungs gasp for air. But they notice. The tall fighter nods. His ears swinging against his collarbone.

He takes another swing and it sends me back again. The air leaves my lungs.

'Yeah. Like that. All your power comes from here. Not from your shoulders. Your legs.' Mr. Barnes smiles and looks at me. 'Hold your gut in when you take those. It'll help.'

So I listen and start anticipating each hit. Holding myself together. It helps but it doesn't get any easier holding that bag. The tall fighter wailed on it for another ten minutes then goes to his jump rope and starts swinging his arms with it.

Mr. Barnes takes me over to another station to spot some guys. They are pushing more than my body weight, but I stand there with hands out ready to catch this massive bar they are pumping into the air. My heart stops once as a fighter struggles to bring it off his chest, but he curses and spits. The bar comes up just fine.

After a while Mr. Barnes sends me out to grab some food for some of the guys. He calls into a place around the block. He gives me directions and off I go. It's to the left once you get out of the Bishop. And another left when you get to the end of the block. I'd never really been walking around here. Except in and out of the Bishop.

There are mutants and normals walking around. And the humans I see look like they had better days. It was a step up from back home.

The place is a sub shop called Hazel's. They specialize in meatballs. Large round, saucy things that they stuff in large rolls from some grocery store down the street. It smells great in there. I say hello and where I was from and they hand me a large cardboard box lined with food. And I take it back to the Bishop.

The fighters that remained stand in line and each grab at a sandwich until they are nearly gone. Mr. Barnes comes up at the end and takes his and hands me one. We sit and eat the sandwiches in silence and another group of fighters come in.

#

The rest of the day pretty much goes the same as the morning. I help train the fighters. Clean up. Run errands and do whatever else I can. Willy Barnes seems pretty pleased with everything.

We end around 5 or 6pm.

The fighters all start to head out and Willy and I stay behind and start to clean up.

'We usually clean up before we close shop.' He bends down to pick up a towel. 'Makes it easier. Except when we have a fight night. Those go too late to get anything done that night so we save it for the morning.'

I nod. I'm pretty tired. My eyes are starting to give and it's taking all my concentration to keep listening to him.

Willy asks me if I left my parents' place for good. Sam had been talking to him about the whole thing. And to be honest, I didn't know. I couldn't tell him because I was still trying to make my mind up.

It's easy to get out of the house. To sneak out and turn your back on the people who raised you. That was surprisingly easy. It's harder to think about. I can't stomach going back and seeing the look on my mom's face. Or even my dad. He was just trying to do what was right for me. Get me a decent job.

Get my foot in the door of one of the few places that accepts people like me. But I just can't do it. I can't take the work there. I'm just not tough enough to make it out there.

Willy offers me a place to stay and I take it. It's a bunk in the back of the locker room. It's not the ideal place. It lacks all the things I would call home. But it has the essentials. Running water and place to sleep. So I'll have to take it for now. And figure out the rest later.

My dreams are flashing and take me over.

I think about where things would be if I wasn't here. If I had left a while ago. If I had never been born. I dream about where my life is going. Where it can't possibly go. Where I want it to go. Where I never want it to go. And I know I have to wait to see where it actually goes. And that is exciting to me. But then a dark cloud comes in and my dreams turn to nightmares and I'm sweating and gasping for air and I need to figure something out. I need to get my life going. Or just give up on it. Then my head clears.

The time passes quickly at the gym. Sleeping and waking and training and cleaning. I learn a lot and it keeps my mind away from other things.

#

'Swing into it.' Sam frowns as I try to give it another go. The bag gives a dull thud as my fist makes contact. Sweat is dripping off my forehead. My muscles are aching. I've been at this most of the day. It's Sunday so I get to practice in the Bishop with Sam. It's just me and her. Well, Willy keeps coming in and out doing something but otherwise it's just the two of us.

'Here.' She pushes me to the side and takes a stance in front of the gym bag. She swings and connects. I don't see a difference from what I'm doing. She nods for me to take position again. I swing. A thud. And she tells me to do it again.

'My shoulder's going to give out, Sam. I can't keep this up.' I tell her.

'I don't care if it falls off. You keep at it until I say it looks good.' She gives me a stern stare.

I swing again. And look at her. She gestures to the bag. She wants them to keep coming.

'That's it. I can't do another.' I start to unwrap my hands.

'Where you going?' She asks.

'I gotta rest. I've been at it all morning.'

'A break?'

'Yeah, a break!' I yell back at her. I grab a chair leaning against the wall and unfold it.

'For god's sake.' Sam mutters to herself. 'What's wrong with you?'

'What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?' I spit out a mouthful of water and take another drink.

She just pauses and I can see her jaw tense up. Then relax. She walks up and grabs a chair next to me.

'School sucks.'

'No shit.' I reply.

'Well, more than usually. Ken and all those guys have gotten even worse.'

'Really? I figured they'd back down now that the mutant wasn't showing up to school.'

'Yeah, well, that's not the case.' She rocks the chair back on its heels.

'Well, if it's not hanging out with me, I assume you've been picking fights again.'

She gives me a sideway glance. 'No.'

'Then I have no fuckin' clue.' I grab my shoulder and rotate it a little. I stop cause it keeps pissing me off.

Sam keeps silent, but I can tell that there's something she wants to share. But it's hard for me to feign interest right now. The shoulder and all that work this morning. I'm too upset to let her know I care today. She'll have to share it on her own if she wants to share it. I'm not pulling it out of her. Not right now. She decides to give me more despite my indifference.

'I guess you wouldn't since no one ever talks to you.'

I don't say anything.

'Here.' Sams stands up and walks in front of me and starts to lift up her shirt.

'Whoa. Hey, Sam. I dig you and all, but this isn't what I want. I think we should stay friends. Or just trainer/fighter. You know, professional.' I wave my hands in front of my face and stand up. Smiling.

'Sit down, idiot.' Sam scowls at me. I sit down. She tends to know what she's doing most of the time.

She lifts up her shirt and underneath it is another shirt. She lifts that one up while holding the other one under her chin. And under that one is a wrinkled up shirt. And under that was wrapping. A large wrapping up around the chest and stomach. The kind of wrap for a swelling ankle. Only much longer.

She finds a small little hook on her side and starts to unravel it from around her body. It slowly drops from her, and I start to see it. The lumps, the sagging skin, the purple splotches. It's not pretty. But then again, neither am I.

But I know now, that the genes didn't miss her. They passed right down through Willy and to her.

She's a mutant. Plain and simple.

I look up from her body and into her eyes. She's staring me down. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I finally realize what it's like for all those normals who meet me for the first time.

'Well?' She looks me over. 'Aren't you going to say anything?'

'What do you want me to say?' I shoot back. Mostly out of habit.

'I don't know. I figured you had something to say. Most people do.'

'Yeah, but I've seen this stuff before.'

She gives me a look like I've been caught sitting outside her window.

'No, not with you. This is new info. But I've seen it back home. It's nothing new. It's no big deal.'

'Maybe not for you. But people didn't know before.' She puts her shirt down and picks up the wrappings from the ground.

'Yeah, all my crap is stuck on my face. Pretty hard to hide that.'

'I'm not trying to say anything-'

'No. No worries. I got it.' I start to unwrap the tape on my hands. 'I guess it's gotta be hard trying to fit in around here when you don't really fit in. I'm guess I'm lucky in not having a choice.'

She walks over and grabs a chair from the wall and sits down next to me.

'You know, I was really jealous that you got to walk around as yourself all day. Not giving a crap what other people thought. I just couldn't imagine what that would be like.' She shakes her head.

'Yeah, well, i didn't have the choice like I said. It was go for broke or go insane.'

'I guess.'

'How'd they find out.' I ask.

'Ken tried to cop a feel of me at some party. Put his hand right under my shirt. Got a handful of surprise. Whipped my shirt up to see. Snapped a photo. That asshole.'

'Jesus. That's messed up.'

'Yeah, I knocked him out. Left the party. Went to school the next day and it had spread everywhere. Everyone knew.'

I don't have anything to add. We both know how messed up it all is.

'So now that they don't have you, I'm the one taking the heat.'

'Well, it's not that bad.'

'Says the guy who left school and home to live in a gym.'

'Okay, it's horrible.' I shrug. 'So what are you going to do about it?'

'I don't know. It's even harder cause I had a few friends there too. And they're gone. Want nothing to do with me. They were barely hanging on when I started talking to you.'

'That makes it even worse.'

'Tell me about it. Sorry.' She looks over at me.

'For what?' I ask.

'For being a dick about workout today. You have the punch down. I was just being...well, you know.'

'Yeah, don't worry I know people can be asses when they don't mean to be.'

'But you do need to work on your speed.'

'My speed?' I raise an eyebrow.

'Yeah, it's horrible right now. But it can get better. Not like your strength.'

'What about my strength?'

'You're a little small.'

I put my arms out and flex them as best I can. 'Yeah, okay, I'm a little thin. I'm not a meathead or anything. But that's what working out is for.'

'Yeah, but I don't know if you've got those huge muscles in you. I think speed is going to have to be your thing. Speed and endurance.'

'Well, I've got some endurance already. At least give me that. How many people would have kept swinging at that bag like I did.'

'Yeah, I'll give you that. But I think you can get better.'

'I'll take that as a compliment.'

'Take it however you want. Just make sure you're ready to get to work again tomorrow.'

'I will, coach.' I nod my head.

Willy walks back into the gym carrying some sandwiches from around the corner.

#

Rumble...

That's the sound I wake up to. It is a low and mournful sound. I just catch it as the Earth shook the floor around me. I'm in the gym. Sleeping off the workout before. Trying to keep out of my parents' hair as they go on with their lives.

Dad is talking to me again. But he's still pissed with the way I left things. Just walking off like that. But I didn't know any other way if I'm being completely honest. He often says 'What am I going to tell the guys at work?'

I don't know. I only met them once. I can't even recall their names.

It was all about the gym. I cleaned up from nights and practices that day. In the evening, Sam would come from school and run me through everything under the watchful eye of her dad. He barely said a word. She knew what she was doing. And I could feel it at the base of my bones. I was getting stronger and faster. And ready to step into that ring again.

Rumble...

It's louder and heavier now. It sounds like the whole building is going to go. I shoot up and grab my clothes and head for the street. No one is in the gym. They don't open up til ten. There is still a good hour before anyone would come around with the keys.

I hit the streets and start looking around. It is panic everywhere. Mutants and normals running around like the end is coming. They're all looking up towards the East. I follow one little girl's arm up to the sky and see this massive form shadowing the buildings.

It looks like a green brick wall had been built up to the sky overnight. My eyes need to adjust, but I know right away what it is. I've seen that up close living in the zone.

The monsters have come to Keystone.

The creatures seem to barely move. The images of what is happening hit long before any sound so there always seems to be a delay. Like an old overdubbed movie. It's hard to tell what's going on. Where exactly they are. But I need to know what damage they've done so I head home.

#

Getting home isn't that difficult despite the traffic. I run. This no worse than my daily run. Just a little more weaving in and out. And the waves of people are headed in the opposite direction of me. Making me think ahead. Making me not drift off like I normally do. But mostly it's the same. It takes me awhile to get there. The monsters are gone before I reach my street.

The little upscale houses that I never felt comfortable in look more like my old hometown. There are cracks in brick walls and chimneys collapsed on themselves. The grass is yellowing and turning in on itself. Vinyl siding droops a little under the heat. I can't tell if the monsters had come through here or not. The damage seems so small.

Some houses are worse than others. Like the randomness you see after a tornado.

On the way up my street, I see it. It's some of that slime I slopped through by the zone a few weeks back. It's crawling down the sidewalk and looks like it is coming up out of the yard. From underground. It must be spilling over from the fight. It's soaked into the ground over by those two creatures and bubbling up here. It's starting to look like home.

I notice a curtain move in the top window of the house with the sludge. Some old woman is looking out at it with her eyes wide. She glances down at me and closes the curtain quickly. She was one of the loud ones when we first moved in. So sure bad things would follow my family. The destruction my old town was cursed with.

Her prejudice seems confirmed today.

The house has looked better. But still looks great compared to my old place. I splash through the sludge creeping onto our walk-up.

I open the the door and head in. Mom is sitting there, watching the news. The tv works for whatever reason. She looks up at me and smiles meekly.

'Is it bad?' She asks.

'It's pretty bad.' I don't lie.

She nods and keeps watching the news.

She's seen stuff like this happen back home. We both have. It isn't anything to get worked up about. Well, it is. But what are we going to do? Luck either saves you or kills you. There's really nothing you can do against creatures like that.

The people here have never dealt with anything like this before. That's always something us godawful mutants took the brunt of. And Their fear is obvious, watching these news anchors try to reassure the public while the paleness in their skin and in their eyes says something other than calm and collected.

Rumble...

Mom holds her belly. She only has a little while now before my little brother comes. Which I'm not happy about now. Two broken towns is not a place for a kid to grow up.

'Where's Dad?' I ask.

'Work. He called. He was going to bring some guys up here to help out. If he could get them past the security on the bridge.'

'Where were they?'

Mom looks at me. Still holding her belly.

'The monsters?'

'I think they said near the school.' She shifts in her seat.

Rumble...

I just nod and sit back into the couch. There is nothing I can really do. Nothing I can say. It's just watching and waiting and hoping that they passed you by when it is all over. So Mom and I just sit there and watch the tv and don't say anything.

#

News crews from around the area descend onto thee town. People from as obscure as North Dakota and as far as Oregon come looking for any bit of sensationalism to put on the screen. It's happened a hundred times in my old home and no one ever went there.

But I guess it makes better news when something clean and perfect is destroyed.

I don't know.

Mom packs my dad a lunch and I head out to take it to him. He made it back that night. Tired from having security running circles around him. They thought he had loaded up his crew to smuggle them in or something. Not to help. I don't know why they thought the mutants would want to move here now.

I take my time walking through the area. I don't really want to see the main point of destruction where everything took place. It isn't going to make me feel good.

Not like I had dreamed back home. Or when I first got here.

To have all that shit that was being piled on to my friends and family. To have it finally show up here. Give all these perfect faces something to see. To understand what it's like for us. I wanted that so bad. But now that I see all the damage. All the shit that made my home crap. I don't want to see it. No one deserves this. This doesn't make us even or show them anything. It's just violence and destruction. And no one deserves this.

There are a few cars flipped over and houses falling apart, but the closer you get to the center, the less you see. Everything has been flattened. Cars are just ash and tin. Houses seemed like they are waiting to be built on newly cleared land. There are bodies here and there. But not many. They were pulled out early on. It's been long enough to get the visible ones out of here.

But there are still signs of people getting blasted with whatever heat was on them from the creatures. I walk past the sirens and the tents set up for relief and see it. There's just a crater where the school was. A footprint where one of those towering beasts dug in.

It's gone and everything it was is ground to fine dust. Pools of the sludge is collecting in these craters. Dad's working down at the base. So I grab a hard hat from one of the guys and head down with the lunch. But I know he won't be ready to eat for some time so I set it down.

I don't say anything and pick up a shovel and start digging trenches to keep the sludge from covering up the school's remains. Parents are still coming down here to look for any piece of their child. And clean up crews are trying to get the debris out. So dad and I and a few others keep them dry from the sludge that's slowly pouring in.

Willy is here. Digging through everything. His large tongue rolling in and out of his mouth as he pulls at old textbooks, looking for names and dates. He looks up and nods to me then gets back at it.

I haven't spoken to him since the funeral. And I barely got anything out. I've never been too good at that kind of stuff. Even with all the practice I've had in the past.

I didn't attend any of the other funerals. Not even the big one they held for the whole town to attend. I don't know if I was wanted. There were a handful of kids that had stayed home sick or ditched school. Most of them survived. Others had been caught in the crossfire somewhere else.

Everyone looked at me like I had some magical ability to survive this. That maybe if I had been at school that day then I could have instructed everyone on what to do. Where to run. Where to hide. How to survive. But I couldn't. These are forces of nature. They are things that barely know we exist. If at all. But still, I heard the whispers.

Besides none of those guys cared for me when they were alive. Only Sam's funeral had any meaning for me.

It's been funny. I knew she was dead the moment I ran out into that street and watched the wall of monsters cast a shadow over everything. I knew she wouldn't make it. But I didn't believe it. I still didn't when I stood in front of that empty casket. I think her shoes were in there. The ones her dad found at home.

I still don't believe it. Not in my heart. My head has connected all the dots. But that's it. It's given me certain clarity. Those dark demons I had. The ones in the back of my head don't come up for air anymore. I don't feel like ending it. Just leaving this place behind. Not in the slightest. It feels like it would be an insult to Sam and everyone else who was atomized in this madness.

And that's a strange feeling. A very strange feeling.

#

Months later, I dig into the ground. The sludge is all being directed back to the zone. So I'm helping dig small trenches to the main river now. And parents still go there to sort through it, but more and more are stopping. They are concentrating on rebuilding now. Trying to figure out what to do.

Some of the mutants that came up to help started putting up campsites and living here. Some have even started renting apartments downtown. And the normals seem to be relatively okay with it. It's not paradise. Not perfect. But they don't give us the evil eye like they did. I guess all it took was seeing mutants other than me to soften everyone up.

I pitch the dirt over my shoulder and into the wheelbarrow. I'm filling in for Dad. He's off making sure that the baby is born. Mom went for a check-in some weeks ago and found out the baby had a tentacle or three coming out of the chest. Mutant.

I felt really bad for them. I knew they had wanted someone more like them and less like me. Or at least, I thought they did. But they both took it well. They didn't seem phased by it. So now they're back home, by the zone, making sure they have doctors who have handled mutant deliveries before.

I'm going to hitch a ride with one of the guys after work and see the kid.

I've got the afternoon off.

Willy has some fundraiser out at the Bishop. All night fights. Sign up and start swinging. There's a lot of people. A lot of people you don't normally see here. A lot of normals signed up too. I think everyone is just trying to get their frustration out.

This short man with fading brown hair takes to the ring and starts flailing as soon as the bell hit. His arms are speeding by his ears and hips as he runs towards his opponent. Some big guy with sloping shoulders. That little guy just hits the belly of that big guy. Keeps beating on it. The big guy just looks down at him and you can see his lower lip shaking.

And looking at the little one, his face is red and his screams are more like wails of anger. They end up with their arms wrapped up around each other and sobbing. They walk off and bawl. They were fathers of a few of my former classmates.

I take to the ring a few fights after that. My match has been set up by Willy. The same kind I had the first time I fought here.

Different guy though. I stand there in the cage much like before. But something is different. Things seem to slow down for me. I feel a jolt of energy run up my spine. It isn't nerves. It isn't fear. It is something else.

Anticipation.

My muscles tighten and my fists clench in their wrappings. The guy is tall and has half his face drooping down into his large left shoulder. He has almost a purple hue to his skin. It might be the lights though. It might be me. Everything seems colored strange. And time slows. I'm not the strongest swinger. But I'm fast now.

And I have stamina. Which means I duck and dodge the behemoth. His breathing gets heavy and so does mine, but I keep moving while his legs start to turn to sand. He drags himself around while I get more hits in.

I try to dance around a little. That gets me into trouble. I try to remember what Sam said before she died. What she was telling me before she left. But I'm having a hard time remembering. I concentrate to think of her face and then I see a glove come bursting through followed by pinks lights and vanishing spots in my eyes.

So I keep to the basics. Hitting and moving. And ducking out of his reach whenever he tries to get me to grapple. I can't compete with his strength. So I used my speed. And keep getting those hits in. His right side is starting to look violet more and more. Darkness surrounds his eyes.

But he doesn't go down. He has a little too much resilience for that. And like I said, I'm not the strongest swinger.

