BLACK NIGHT IN THE BLACK HILLS (Part 1 of the Jonica vs Laurie Series) -- CONTINUED
written by Laurie
Chapter the Seventh
(Tra la la la bombardier this is the pilot speaking
And I’ve got some news for you
It seems my ship still stands no matter what you drop
And there ain’t a whole lot that you can do)
The next time I hear the expression ‘time flies’, the clueless dipstick who says it will end up with a slap in the face. Time does NOT fly. The hour I spent waiting in that Airstream was the longest sixty minutes of my life. Missy, Mallory and Carole didn’t make it any easier. Missy sat next to me on the couch, Carole was up on the bed, Mallory sat in the captain style passenger seat in the cab, unconsciously swiveling it side to side. They were all staring at me. I wasn’t looking at anything. The only sounds in the camper were our tense nervous breathing and the constant low creak of Mal’s swiveling seat.
Melissa blurted out suddenly, “Damn it, Mallory, will you cut that out? You’re making me dizzy!”
Mallory stopped. “Sorry.”
“Laur, you’re not really going through with this, are you?” Carole asked for probably the nineteenth time.
“Of course she is, dumb-ass,” Mal snapped. “How many freaken times are you gonna ask that?”
Carole chucked a pillow down at her. “Get off my case, rat bag!”
Mallory grabbed the pillow, jumped up and smashed it in Carole’s face. Missy joined them and a three-way tug of war for the pillow began.
“Hell of a vacation,” I said to no one in particular.
Everyone froze at the sudden knock on the Airstream door. The pillow fell to the floor. All eyes swung back at me. I gave a little nod and Mal opened the door. Pocket Rocket stood there framed in the doorway.
“It’s time,” was all he said.
I nodded again, stood up, adjusted the top of my light aquamarine bikini. The butterflies in my stomach were all wearing spiky helmets and stiletto heels but I tried to mask it with a small grin. Nobody was buying it, least of all me. Still I tried.
“Time for this munchkin to head down that old yellow brick road.”
Pocket Rocket moved aside as I stepped out of the Airstream, followed by the others. I looked around for Jonica, didn’t see her, but could tell the Winnebago was empty. The tire was still dead, nobody had come to cart the body off to the morgue, but the murder weapon had been removed. We walked through the camp, past tents, campers, cars, all now strangely deserted.
(Did we have a Rapture and nobody told us???)
“Everybody’s at the fight,” Pocket Rocket answered the silly question in my head. “Waiting for you.”
“Ah,” I said quietly. “Mustn’t keep ‘em waiting. That would be rude.”
“Laur,” Missy started.
“I’m fine,” I cut her off calmly, without looking back. “No worries, Sissy.”
The grass was cool and damp under my bare feet. I could hear the rumblings of engines in the distance, getting louder and louder as we came to a clearing. I stopped as I took in the sight of a whole lot of motorcycles (I can’t say exactly how many there were, I didn’t think to count them all, I had other things on my mind). They were almost all Harleys, set up handlebar to handlebar, like a large metal and chrome and rubber ring. A biker sat astride each one, waiting expectantly. All the headlights were on, illuminating the circle of bare ground in the middle. Other spectators lounged on the grass and gravel, or stood with their thumbs in their jeans pockets, like a panoramic tableau of ‘cool’.
Missy gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh my god,” she whispered.
A few of the spectators moved, opening the circle, giving me an entrance. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience, I thought. I can feel myself walking but I’m not controlling my legs, I’m being pulled into this ring one step at a time and I’m not resisting. Okay. Now I’m in the ring and the circle closes again. I scan the crowd for familiar friendly faces. Missy. Mal and Carole. I try to put their frightened looks out of my mind. There’s Foxy over there. She gives me a reassuring smile. Vegas Pete and Boche, looking stoic. Kojak gives me a quick thumbs-up. Tiny, sitting cross-legged on the ground, like a ginormous white-bearded Buddha, his head down, either asleep or passed out.
Then everyone’s attention was diverted to the other side of the circle. Another opening materialized and Jonica appeared, her auburn hair pulled back, her body lithe and toned under her red bandanna pattern bikini. Her eyes met mine and I felt a sharp tingle of fear course through my whole body. I shivered, and it wasn’t from the cool night air either.
(Stop it! There’s nothing to be scared of now, I told myself. We’re practically the same size, Jonica and I. Not like that Lakota heifer bitch that put you in the hospital. Focus, Laurie, focus!)
Boom-Boom was by her side. After a quick whisper in her ear and a hug, Boom-Boom drifted back and the ring closed once again. Jonica and I faced each other. Both of us tense and ready, bobbing up and down on the balls of our bare feet, fists clenching and unclenching, wondering if there was going to be a signal to start or what. That mystery was solved when one of the bikers, a guy with red hair that matched the big grinning devil’s head on the back of his leather jacket, moved between us. I guess he must be the announcer or emcee or something. He raised his arms up for quiet.
“Howdy, folks, they call me Carolina Red,” he drawled loudly over the idling engines. “An’ I’d like to welcome everybody to this here gathering. All y’all are out here for one reason an’ one reason only! An’ it sure as hell ain’t to listen to me talking at ya! These two li’l ladies have themselves some differences an’ they are gonna settle them once an’ for all right here an’ right now! So … LET’S GET IT ON!”
Red got the hell out of Dodge as Jonica and I started circling each other, hands up. We moved closer, each of us looking for an opening, both wanting to attack but being careful. I’ve never seen a look of fury on another girl’s face that compared to what I was seeing on the pretty face of the Cajun facing me. (She wants to fucking kill me!) As we got closer, Jonica lashed her foot out at my knee but I saw it coming and scooted back out of harm’s reach. The bikers, realizing the fight was starting to heat up now, all revved their engines in unison. The sudden loud explosion of noise distracted me.
(Have you ever heard a shitload of Harleys all rev up at the same time? It’s not something you hear every day, let me tell ya!)
Jonica saw her chance to attack and seized the opportunity. I turned my head, and never saw her bend down, scoop up a handful of dirt and throw it right in my face just as I started turning back to her. I cried out as some of the grit got into my eyes. I started blinking madly, my eyes were stinging, and I reached up both hands to wipe them. Jonica yelled, “Salope!” (I found out later that means “bitch” in Cajun-speak. I guess I should be flattered.) and drove her right foot hard into my belly. I doubled over, the air whooshed from my mouth and I stumbled back, tripped and landed on my ass in the gravel and grass.
“That’s it, babes! Kick her fucking South Dakota arse so we can get the hell outta here!” Boom-Boom screeched like a banshee.
“Get up, Sissy! Get up!” Missy cheered me on.
My vision was still blurred but, thanks to the bright headlights, I was able to make out that she was moving in at me and I was ready. I let her get close enough, planted both hands on the ground behind me for support and lashed my foot up and out at her shin.
“Fils de putain!” Jonica hissed out in pain as my heel struck bone. She hobbled back and that gave me the chance to scramble back up to my feet again. I rushed her, got both hands in her hair, pulled her head down as I yanked her close to me, then drove my left knee up hard into her lower belly. She let out a low moan as I snarled in her ear, “This is what you get when you fuck with a Badlands girl, you Cajun whore!”
“Fuck you, slut!” she countered as she drove a couple of hard punches into my ribs. I twisted away and let go of her hair, taking a couple steps back. We circled again, trading a few wild swinging punches that we both easily dodged.
“The air is taking a hell of a beating!” a voice called out, followed by some laughter.
My vision finally clearing, I moved in closer, fists up, and faked a punch at Jonica’s face. As she brought her arms up to block, I quickly planted my left foot and threw a hard kick, my right foot slamming into her side. Her legs buckled, she let out a gasp, and backed up as the bikers revved their engines in approval. I rushed in, tackling her as she was back-pedaling and we hit the ground hard, with me on top.
“UNNGGHHH!” I heard her cry out as her back smashed into the grass. I started to scramble on top of her but she twisted her body and bucked up hard, her hand cupping my face at the same time, squeezing and digging her nails deep into my cheeks. My teeth gritted, moaning in pain, I had to place a hand on the ground for balance as I fought to stay astride her. I grabbed her hair with my free hand, yanked her head up, then slammed it back down on the ground. She yelped again, a mix of pain and fury in her wide eyes. She suddenly brought her knee up hard into the small of my back, making me lose my balance just enough for her to twist again sharply, throwing me completely off her.
As I pulled myself up to my hands and knees, Jonica grabbed me by the hair with both hands, got to her knees, spat out “Your turn now, salope!”, and drove my head down face-first into the hard gravel and damp grass. She pressed both her hands down hard into the back of my head, really pushing my face down. My nose twisted to the side, my eyes closed, I struggled to pill away as she rubbed and ground my face into the ground.
She giggled, “Having fun, chere?” as I flailed my fists wildly at her and kicked my legs. My fist hit her thigh and I immediately opened it, latching my nails into her tender flesh. I heard her cry out as she released my head. I quickly scampered back on my knees, raising up slowly, wiping the gravel from my red face and spitting some out of my mouth. Jonica got to her feet and was on me in a flash, making a grab for my hair. She never saw my elbow swing at her but she sure felt it when it crashed hard into her crotch.
“UNNHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Jonica’s loud tortured cry even drowned out the constant rumblings of the engines. Her eyes got all wide and filled with tears, her mouth opened in stunned agony and she dropped down to her knees like she was shot. As I stood up, breathing hard, I could hear voices in the crowd.
“GUD DAMN!”
“OH SNAP!!!”
“FUCKING SLAG!!! GET UP, JONI!!!” (Give you three guesses who said that and the first two don’t count!)
I didn’t hear Mallory when she turned to Melissa and said, “Remind me never to piss your sister off!!”
I looked down at Jonica, moaning, on her knees, rocking back and forth.
“Gee, that musta really hurt, huh? Hate when that happens!” I sneered.
I know what you’re thinking. She’s hurt, finish her off. But something deep inside me wanted to punish the bitch, humiliate her, pay her back for all the shit she and her asshole friend Boom-Boom put me through tonight. So I reached down, grabbed her hair and pulled her up into a tight side headlock. Her face got red from the pressure, I really had it cinched in tight. She tugged at my arm but I just squeezed even harder, her face pressed up against my body. I decided to show off a bit so I began walking around the ring, with Jonica still trapped in the headlock forced to follow. I stopped when I got to Boom-Boom, her face red with rage, seething in helpless fury.
“You’re Cajun girlfriend isn’t shit!” I hissed.
Boom-Boom made a sudden lunge at me but was restrained by Boche and Kojak. She squirmed in their grasp as I laughed and pulled Jonica back to the middle of the ring. But my Cajun foe was far from finished. She reached her left hand (the one closest to me) up my back and grabbed my hair, tugging down hard. My head jerked back and I cried out in pain. But that pain was a walk in the park compared to what happened next. She viciously clamped her right hand on my kitty in a vise-like claw which had me howling. I rose up to my tiptoes and let go of the headlock as Jonica positioned herself behind me, yanking my hair and tightening the clawhold.
A voice bellowed, “SHIT, I WAS JUST EXPECTING SOME LAME-ASS ROLLING AROUND BUT THESE BITCHES ARE FUCKING SERIOUS!”
I made a grab for Jonica’s wrist but she released the claw and my hair, wrapped her arms around my waist. I struggled as she lifted me in the air, pivoted on one foot, twisted our bodies, and drove me down into the ground with her on top. My pert little 32Bs were flattened, the wind was knocked out of me and all I could do was lay there, gasping as I tried to catch my breath. She stretched out on top of me, pinning my body with hers, immobilizing me.
“Get the … fuck … off me!” I wheezed.
Her mouth was close to my ear as she hissed, “Beg me, you fucking peeshwank!”
I don’t know what that means but I’m pretty sure it’s not a compliment. I tried to buck up but couldn’t dislodge her. I felt her feet moving, slapping against my shins and ankles, trying to grapevine my legs. I kept kicking and sliding my legs as much as possible to avoid that. The fall winded me badly and I could feel my strength start to fade. Jonica snaked one arm around my neck, and tightened it, choking me. I gurgled and rasped as my windpipe constricted. Desperate, I threw a hand up and back at her face, clawing at her eyes. Her screech practically deafened me but it was worth it. She jerked away, sliding off me, rubbing her eyes as I rolled a safe distance away.
We both lay where we were for a bit, composing ourselves. Tired, sweaty, hurting. Then, as if one thought hit us both at the same time, we pulled ourselves up to our knees in unison. I looked deep into her eyes. She returned the gaze. At that moment we both understood clearly that giving up is not an option. Not for me. Not for Jonica. Pride. That’s all that matters now. This fight will only end when one of us is beaten to the point where she can’t continue. Two of us walked into this circle of motorcycles. Only one of us will walk out.
*****TO BE CONTINUED*****
