EYe of the Colossus

“Korla! Get up!” Jalia yelled. The Constie turned to face Holly. Jalia’s dark eyes were bright and focused, yet Holly saw fear in them. It seemed their desire to screw it up for Charly surpassed their aversion to fighting.

Jalia came at Holly, a windmill of legs, one swinging right after the other.

Holly danced backwards. Wait, she thought. Maybe that’s concentration in Jalia’s eyes. Maybe it’s lust for blood.

Crap.

“Holly,” Charly called from the edge of the room. “Drop and sweep the planted leg!”

But it was too late. Jalia’s foot connected with Holly’s shoulder and sent her careening onto a table stomach-first. Chairs clattered to the ground as the table skated across the tile floor with Holly upon it. She almost gave up on the fight then—but she hoped Jalia would be done with the fight first. Or maybe Korla had had enough, and Holly wouldn’t have to call it.

Nope.

Before she could dismount the table-steed, she felt hands grasp the loose fabric of the back of her jumpsuit. She assumed it was Jalia and not Charly intervening to help get her out of danger.

Crap, Holly thought again, this won’t be good. Her toes barely scraped the floor as she was yanked off the table. She encountered Jalia’s face up close and heard the Constie’s ragged breathing. Her breath blew hot against Holly’s cheek, and unfortunately, reached her nose. It smelled of whatever atrocity Jalia had eaten for lunch. Holly had never felt so thankful for being tossed like a bag of feathers in a fight. At least she wouldn’t have to remain in that cloud of toxic smells for very long. Jalia grunted and threw Holly across the hall and into another table. She heard the women around the edge of the room gasp. Titters of laughter rose among them.

Guards didn’t stick around during lunch—it was basically a free-for-all and everyone’s first choice for staging a fight. Holly sometimes wondered if a maximum security prison was a safer place for prisoners.

She scrambled to her feet, rubbing her bicep. She grimaced as she turned. Jalia was tough. No wonder the two Consties thought the dining area was theirs—they could claim it and defend it. But … when had that happened? Why hadn’t anyone else mentioned it to her and Charly?

As she turned to face Jalia, she saw that Korla was back on her feet. The shorter Constie glowered at Holly.

“I didn’t start this,” Holly said, trying to figure out a way to avoid the fight. “Should we call a truce?”

In answer, Korla grabbed a chair and charged at Holly, swinging it wildly at her.

Holly jumped behind an overturned table and crouched behind it to shield herself. The chair crashed against it, the reverberations concussing into Holly.

She cocked her head to the side, trying to hear what Korla was doing. How was Holly going to get out of this? The longer the fight went on, the better their advantage became, because there were two of them and one of her. She’d tire out faster than they would.

“Holly,” Charly whispered, suddenly kneeling beside Holly. Holly jumped, startled by Charly’s sudden appearance.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

Charly’s face was bright in anticipation of the clash. “I can’t let you do this alone. It’s ridiculous. I can fight for myself.”

“That’s not the question. You want to get out? Then you can’t fight.”

“OK, confession. I don’t want to leave you behind, either.”

“You can come back and visit. That shouldn’t be what you’re worried about. Now go!” Holly shoved Charly by the back of the neck away from the shelter of the table.

“You’re next, Charly!” Korla screeched as she came around the table.

Charly ducked away, groaning in frustration.

Korla prepared to swing the chair downward.

Holly dove and rolled away as the chair crashed hard into the ground behind her, right where she’d been sitting. As she got her feet under her and crouched, Holly twisted around to face Korla. An idea struck her then. She knew what she needed to do.

Korla grunted and swung the chair down at Holly again. Once more Holly dove away, but felt the chair clip the back of her foot. She cried in pain, but managed to leap to her feet before Korla recovered the chair all the way. Holly grabbed a chair of her own and squared off at Korla.

“Aha, now we’re even,” Holly said, ignoring the throbbing pain in her foot.

“I’ve got your back, Holly. Tap me in, tap me in. Please!” Charly called.

“Stay back, woman,” Holly yelled. “You’re getting out this week. And I’m doing your homecoming present right now. Don’t mess it up.” Holly flashed a scowl at Charly. 

“Go around behind her,” Korla ordered Jalia.

In that moment Holly caught the look of irritation in Jalia’s face. The taller woman hesitated, but did as Korla commanded. This was the work of a dictator, and Jalia didn’t like it.

“Two against one—you guys don’t fight fair. Of course, chairs as a weapon, not fair either. But I get it, Korla. Jalia’s your servant? Right? That’s how you guys do this? Did Jalia even want to have a fight today? Or was that all you, Korla?” Holly didn’t know what she was saying, exactly. It was meant as a distraction. Jalia, who had been doing as she was told, stopped in her tracks and looked at Korla, as though she were waiting to make sure Korla hadn’t changed her mind.

“Get her!” Korla said, dropping the chair to her side in exasperation. This was the opening Holly had been waiting for. They were heavy chairs—Holly’s muscles were quivering from the strain of brandishing her own.

As Korla lowered her chair, Holly’s opportunity came. Though Jalia was closer, Holly leaped, swinging the chair at Korla.

A collective gasp drained the air from the room as their audience of inmates saw what was about to happen in the split second before the weapon hit its target.

It connected with the side of the other female’s head. Korla grunted and dropped to the ground.

Meanwhile Jalia had closed the distance separating them, suddenly within reach. Holly wasn’t prepared for the foot in her gut. She dropped the chair, gasped, and fell. Holly curled up and clutched her stomach, fighting for oxygen. The full weight of Jalia crashed onto Holly. Fireworks went off in her head as the Constie pounded Holly in the face.

A lot.

Stars filled her vision. The roar of the mess hall drowned out all other sounds, except for the thud of fists echoing through her head. Her resolve melted. I’m tired. If I give up now, maybe I’ll survive.

Was it time to accept defeat?

Suddenly the punching stopped.

Holly opened her eyes.

Charly had Jalia around the neck in a chokehold. She had dragged the other female off Holly.

Korla groaned somewhere nearby.

Holly clenched her teeth and crawled to her feet. Against the shrieking pain of her injuries, she hobbled to Charly’s side. “Thanks, Charly. Drop her. Let’s get out of here.”

“Well, Holly Drake. You should be proud of yourself,” Warden Shin said from her desk chair when the door to her office clicked shut behind Holly.

It was hard to see out of her left eye. That side of her face had taken the brunt of Jalia’s blows. Holly opened her right eye wider. “Not really, no. I’m not. Mostly I was just trying to prevent Charly from fighting. Really, Warden, it was self-defense. Korla and Jalia had it in for us the moment we walked into the mess hall.”

The warden tilted her head to one side. Her eyes glinted and she frowned. “I mean, you should be proud of yourself. I did not ask. It was not a question. You’re going home tomorrow and I wonder what sort of strings you had to pull to accomplish that.”

Holly balked. Had she heard that right? She leaned forward and stopped. Her side still hurt from the fight at lunch. “What?”

Shin looked down her nose at Holly.

“Then it wasn’t you.”

“What wasn’t me?”

Shin glanced toward the floor-to-ceiling windows in her office. She rose and sauntered over to stand before them, her hands connected behind her back in a thoughtful pose. The woman wore elegant clothing. Such styles belonged on a corporate executive who commanded the respect of multi-moon concerns, not a prison warden who was never seen by colleagues from whom she demanded respect.

One look at the room from where the warden ran her prison and no one would ever guess that the space was located in the City of Jade Spires Minimum Security Prison for Women. There were indulgent rugs, plaques and other inspiring art on the walls, and her perch overlooking the prison yard was large and boastful. Even the prison yard suggested something much more than “prison yard.”

Holly had stopped attempting to understand all of it months ago. Philosophically the prison and its efforts were a mystery, but her best guess was that it was built—in the Centau’s mind—on some kind of premise that prisoners should not be treated like base creatures. After all, that could blemish the utopian facade they were going for.

“Warden Shin?” Holly probed.

“Someone, Holly Drake, has pulled invisible strings somewhere. I will not venture to guess. But, yes, celebrate. You are going free in the morning. Now, back to your cell. The guard is waiting outside my office for you.”