RAT II -- Ch 2 Fears That Bind

There was electricity in the air as spectators made their ways to their seats in the amphitheater. Along the grounds outside, stalls sold black and red foam viking helmets and wood carved axes that bare the school’s crest as a buff but stout viking mascot costume danced among passersby. It was game night and the Hooligans were sure to win. Their varsity team had been practicing for hours on end and strengthening their weaknesses.

Drums began to pound as the color guard displayed their support for their team on the field, wielding flags of black and red, their school’s colors, as they marched to the intoxicating beat. Above them, the nets laid out into place, ready to catch any player who falls. Rings on both sides of the field were hoisted into the air awaiting scores from each team as the catapult was rolled into place at the center of the field.

The crowd cheered excitedly as they got seated. Many pounding their wooden axes together along with the beating of the drums as they stomped their feet. Collectively shouting with the band. The drums began to beat faster and faster before finally they stopped all at once. The headmistress had ridden into the amphitheater atop her faithful dragon to the center of the field. In the dragon’s claws was a large ball made of thick leather.

“Tonight is a special occasion. This is to be Jackson High’s first Free Fall Derby game. Let’s have a clean fair game so that this sport may gain more recognition!” Renee Baxter spoke loud and clear. The crowds roared to life at the announcement.

The drums began to play again announcing the arrival of the home team as they rode out onto the field on colorful dragons shouting their school’s mantra “Baxter! Baxter! Oi! Oi! Oi!”  The crowd joins in, repeating the chant in support of their team. The opposing team eventually flying onto the field soon after. Each player could easily be determined who was on which team. The dragons wore brightly colored saddles featuring the respective team’s school colors. The players wore protective armor similar to dragon training armor featuring the same colors as their saddles. They flew high above Baxter as she watched her students proudly. Many of them were on her dragon training courses. Senior players were riding dragons that they personally tamed as a result of passing their course exams while first time junior players rode dragons that belonged to the school grounds.

“Anyone knocked off their dragon must stay out of play until he or she is rotated back in. Any team that uses dragon fire will be disqualified the rest of the game. May the best team win!” Baxter shouted as Thunderhead rose higher above the swarming teams. With the bellowing of the chambered horn, the ball was released from Thunderhead’s claws as the large ball plummeted to the ground below.

Immediately the ball was grabbed by the Hooligan Paragon who made a dive for it first. Gripping a baton called a lance, he swats hard at any opposing player wingmen as they try to steal the ball from his dragon’s claws. A lance suddenly comes down on him, knocking him off his saddle. The crowd collectively gasps to see the Paragon still clinging on to the side of the saddle. He looks around as his wingmen protect him as he’s still clutching to his saddle. With all of his body strength he pulls himself back up, pushing off his dragon’s legs as he rightens himself on the saddle just in time to throw the ball at the hoop. The defender manages to knock the ball back as it falls to the net below. In the center of the field sat a large catapult. The field workers hurried to load the ball and launch it back into play.

By the time the ball was launched into the air, Baxter had ascended to her private seat to view the game at play. Jet was already waiting for her. If there was one thing she looked forward too it was a game of Free Fall Derby.

“What do you say to a celebratory drink afterward?” Jet offered, roaring into cheer as one of the four wingmen manages to score a goal.

“Celebrate what, exactly?” Baxter smiled as she kept her eyes on the colorful display of dragons and their riders competing over the ball.

“Our teams undefeated season? A new school joining the Derby leagues? Does it matter?” He asked as he turned towards her. Seeing that long lost smile he’d missed.

In the field, the ball had been passed between the Wingmen of team Hooligan before the pass off to their Paragon. The Paragon makes a hard swipe at the defender as he knocks the other player off his saddle. GOAL! The crowd roars in a deafening collection. Cheering on their team’s latest goal.

“C’mon Bax. You’ll enjoy it. If not, I promise you we can leave immediately.” Jet begged as he sat back in his seat.

An opposing wingman is knocked off his saddle as he plummets to the net below. He rolls towards the center where the field workers at the catapult help him out of the net to be benched until he can be rotated back into play.

“And you say we can leave if I’m not happy?” Baxter glanced towards him briefly.

“Of course.” Jet promised, watching as she stood, cheering on as their team dismounted the opposing team’s Paragon. Jet chimed in, cheering not just for their team, but a win to get Baxter to loosen up and relax.




The rookie sighed as she sunk in her stool, leaning over her half empty glass of whisky. She had to endure her captain screaming at her for disobeying his orders. And what’s worse, she’d been put on desk duty for a month. It didn’t help that the woman had contacted the Police Commissioner who in turn reprimanded him for his ‘tradition’.

Her mind drifted back to the woman that came in to free the captured dragon. She was calm, collected. She knew precisely what she was doing when she approached. It left her wondering just how many years the woman put into taming the monsters to have such a sturdy back bone while she just froze in place.

Rumor spread like wild fire that the woman lived with savages during the years she was missing as a youth. Although she claims she was gone for more than a couple months, she had been missing for a total of seven years and never aged a day upon her return. But after investigating the death of Ivar Du’món the truth has come to surface that she was raised by savages. That her outbursts today are the likely result in her upbringing. The rookie of course didn’t believe any of this. She figured the woman just had a strong love for the creatures. And like any eco terrorist, takes her love a little too far to protect what she cares strongly for.

Business in the pub seemed to kick up in the late hours. Off duty police and citizens alike were coming in, making for a lively crowd. In the back, crowds were cheering on their teams on the big screens. Outlaw country rock filled the air, mixing with the waft of smoke as bar patrons conversed about their hard day’s work or tried to woo some unlucky fella or lady.

She picked up her drink and studied it as if looking for an excuse not to down the rest of the alcohol. The last drop was difficult to swallow. She never was one to drown her sorrows in alcohol. But today was one of those days she could at least start.

The volume in the room seemed to grow still save for the music playing on the jukebox or the televisions in the back. She lifted her head to see why. That’s when she saw her. The tall woman from that afternoon. She wore a simple grey dress suit that hugged her curves. If she didn’t know better she could swear she could see the woman’s abs beneath her tight black shirt. A man just as attractive accompanied her. He seemed to know her on a personal level as he coaxed her in with a flick of his wrist. Her nose was scrunched up at the smell of smoke and greasy food that hung in the air. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Immediately she turned her attention back to her drink when she saw that they were making their way to the bar. The sound of life in the bar returned once the woman had sat down. She tried her best to blend in, to not be seen. Her heart had leaped into her throat as the woman took a seat beside her. The strong scent of fish and soil wafted beneath her nose, the woman was so close.

“Must’ve had a rough day.” The voice of the bar tender distracted her from her focus of trying to blend in as she looked forward. Her small empty glass was replaced with a half filled glass of the same size. Same whisky drink that made it hard for her to swallow. The earthy fragrance of the woman beside her mixed in with the burning oak aged alcohol.

She muttered her thanks as she took her glass hesitantly. Watching out of the corner of her eye as the bar tender served them their drinks beside her.

“I thought I recognized you.” The woman’s voice spoke, causing her to choke on her drink. The drink burnt as it found its way up her nose.

“Pardon..?” She croaked, looking beside her nervously. Those piercing teal green eyes staring disapproving at her from behind messy auburn bangs.

“Were you trying to prove something by staying in the firing zone? That Skrill could have easily killed you without batting an eye.” She scolded. The rookie couldn’t find her voice, she was tripping over her tongue trying to find the right words to say without sounding pitiful.

“The next time you’re to get a dangerous dragon like that under control, don’t try to prove yourself. Get out of range and let professionals deal with it. Regardless of what that fool captain says.” The woman warned as she took a sip of her drink.

“I wasn’t…” She began. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Trying to prove myself..”

Baxter glanced over to the young woman beside her.

“I was.. Afraid. It may sound funny but. When every other kid was imagining and wishing dragons were re— were among us. I was terrified of them. Something that could breath fire surely couldn’t be a great thing to happen to us.” She tiptoed around her words.

“It’s not ridiculous.” Baxter spoke calmly. What was funny to her was being beside someone who reminded her of herself when she was young. The feeling was a weird cocktail of pride and disgust.

“When I was younger and first met dragons. I was terrified. But friends showed me a trick to getting over my fears.” Baxter could see out of the corner of her eye that the young woman hung on every word.

“If you’re going to be a detective, you’re going to need to be brave. I’m surprised you even made it this far as a beat cop.” She reached into her pocket, withdrawing a card and handing it to her.

The rookie took the card and looked at it. On this card was the faded image of the school crest, a black dragon with one single red tail fin in the back. The words emboldened in silver foil letters read Baxter Academy followed by an address below layered over the crest. She ran her fingers over the card before looking back up at the woman.

“Show up tomorrow, O-seven hundred hours. I will teach you everything you need to be brave and face your fears.” Baxter said as she watched the other’s eyes light up. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement. Baxter wasn’t sure what came over her to take the woman in as a private student. Perhaps it was because she saw herself in the rookie. Or perhaps she didn’t wanna see the woman killed on the job. Or maybe it was out of pity.

“Thank you—“ The rookie was grateful, she wasn’t sure why the woman took an interest in her either. Stowing the card in her jacket, she caught a glimpse of two detectives from her precinct getting up from their table and making their way to them.

She felt her stomach sink when they stopped behind the woman beside her. Dan Morrigan and Zac Palmer. Both these two were known for their crass behavior both in the field and in the office. They in fact bullied her on a daily basis because they knew they could get away with it without her fighting back.  

She could smell alcohol on both of their breaths. This couldn’t end well.

“Say Dan, do you know any good vikings?” Zac began, trying to hold in a snigger.

“Sure do Zac. The only good viking… is a dead viking!” Dan bellowed as Zac roared in laughter. They watched as the woman in front of them tensed. Her companion had turned to face the men, but Baxter had swiftly moved from her bar stool to stand before Dan, before Jet could get between them. Her fist gripped the collar of his shirt as he dangled in her grasp.

“What right do you think you have that you can openly mock my ancestors..?” Baxter stared into his eyes. She tilts her head, studying the man writhing in her grip.

“You don’t hear me mocking your ancestors who were more than likely slave owners.” She barely noticed Zac coming around from behind as he grabbed a bar stool.

SMASH

The bar stool shattered into splinters as Zac brought it down on the woman’s manly shoulders. Baxter went down to the floor, out cold. Dan stumbled back, leaning up against a nearby table as he collected his breathing. Bar customers had shouted and screamed as they left the bar in a hurry at the sight of the violence, not wanting to be any part of it.

“What did you DO!?” The rookie had shouted in fear as Jet kneeled down beside his charge.

“You saw what happened Maddison. She was strangling Dan!” Zac shouted at her.

“Like hell she was! She had him by his collar and you know it!” She defended. Only to find Zac’s fist connect with her jaw.  She flew back against the bar as she clung to where she landed. Her eyes were wide as saucer plates, shocked by his sudden action.

“That’s no way to treat a lady!” Jet shouted, getting up from Baxter’s side and throwing his own fist into Zac’s lower abdomen. Zac doubled over as he backed up. Jet then turned his attention on Maddison to help.

The gurgling sound of someone being choked could be heard as the two turned sharply to see Baxter had risen. She had Dan by the throat this time as she held him high over her head. He must’ve been a good three feet off the ground as he was trying to struggle to get free.

“Put the detective down Bax.” Jet quietly spoke as he timidly approached her.

“These guys aren’t worth it. Please” He begged, watching as she turned her head. He startled aback, seeing a dead pan stare in her eyes. Her eyes.. They weren’t the teal green he knew. They were clouded over, as if she were dead. She sent the detective flying. She even held her stance differently. Her shoulders slackened and her upper torso curved in to her weight. He’d recognized the stance but wasn’t sure from where.

“Bax…?” He asked. Something wasn’t right with Baxter. And it made his stomach sink.

Around them, other off duty cops had surrounded Baxter, blocking off their exit.

“Guys.. Can’t we just talk this out?” Jet had asked as he put himself between the six men and Baxter. What ever was going on with Baxter, this wasn’t going to carry over well fighting these men. Jet didn’t want a body count to rise. Two incapacitated detectives were enough.

One cop rushed past Jet, shoving him aside to get to Baxter. Jet stumbled aside and watched as Baxter easily disposed of the man by lifting him high over her head before slamming him down onto a table. His weight buckled the table beneath him and sent him to the floor with a loud crash as abandoned drinks spilled all over the ground and him. A second cop had grabbed a bottle and raised it high as he came rushing, but his wrist was grabbed and he was soon sent flying over her shoulders. He collided against the wall behind the bar in a loud crash, destroying bottles and glass as he slid down. The remaining four cops had grabbed pool sticks and approached.

She grabbed one of the men and hefted him up over her shoulders and used him as a battering ram, spinning her body as he clobbered his fellow cops against his will. She then disposed of him, sending him flying into a nearby cop who fell back into the chair. The chair collapsed under their weight and they fell to the floor.

Two cops remained. They circled her as she held her stance. Eyeing their every movement as if calculating the best strategy to dispose of them.

“I’ve never seen anyone fight like that..” Maddison exclaimed as Jet retreated back to where she had taken cover just below the lip of the bar.

“I’ve never seen her fight like that either.. And I’ve been at her side since our return.” Jet watched as one of the cops took a swing in front of Baxter. This gave the other the chance to bring the pool stick down over her head as she was busy dodging the first attack.

“Foul!” Jet shouted, watching as Baxter stumbled momentarily.

Baxter had woken up to find herself face to face between two cops. Around her others were crawling away in defeat. Shaking away the unease, she rightened herself in the familiar stance that Jet was use to. Last thing she remembered was holding the detective named Dan up off the floor. But now she was in a fight to defend herself.

“Ain’t no way you’re going to walk away from this one, Dragon Queen.” One of the cops hissed as they circled her again. Eyeing her like hungry wolves.

He was right, she was cornered and no telling how the damage around her happened while she was unconscious. The only way out of this was to defend herself, let them come at her.

And as she expected, the first man broke his stance and came rushing at her with his pool stick raised high. She grabbed the stick before it came down on her as she thrust her foot out. It connected with the man’s stomach as he fell back. She then ripped it from his hands before she brought it down over his head. She then pulled back and spun it agilely in her hands before poking the man behind her in his gut. She again spun the pool stick before cracking it over the other man’s head. Both men crawled away in defeat.

Baxter rightened herself before dropping the broken stick. Jet had immediately come running over and grabbed her shoulders, turning her this way and that. She was back to normal. The bizarre phenomenon that happened earlier was no longer present. A wave of relief washed over him.

“What are you doing..?” Baxter asked, watching as Jet patted her shoulder.

“Just checking for uh.. Injuries.” He claimed.

Baxter then looked over towards Maddison who was crawling out from beneath the bar.

“Remember, O-seven hundred. Tomorrow.” She then led Jet out of the bar.