As I passed by Peter I leaned behind Trip and said, “Be right back!”
I ignored Peter’s stark look of fear.
Trip and I entered the empty hut and he gestured to the floor. “Have a seat.”
“I prefer to stand.” I knew that my chances of defeating him in any physical match were better if we weren’t on the ground; there he had the advantage of size and weight. Standing I had the element of surprise and my quick strike ability. I hoped I wouldn’t need to use it, but if my dad had taught me nothing else, he’d taught me to expect the unexpected and that the worst case was always a possible scenario.
Trip moved to the center of the hut and then turned to look at me, his thumbs casually hooked in the band that went around his waist, the one that was holding up a cloth that hung down in front of his man-parts, covered in decorations. I couldn’t tell if they were painted on or woven in - it was too dark to see details with only a little bit of the torchlight reaching in between cracks of the wall hangings. I didn’t want to spend too much time studying it for obvious reasons. He wore leather breeches on his legs and moccasins, no shirt. His muscled chest was painted like his face in reds and blacks. He didn’t have the permanent tattoos that Kowi and his tribesmen had, I could see that now. He was slightly slouched over and it almost looked as if he were flexing his chest and abs a little. I smiled, thinking to myself that this guy was almost as bad as a peacock.
“Let’s start with you telling me who you are,” he said.
“My name’s Bryn Mathis. I’m from the Orlando area. Maitland.”
“What about the other ones?”
“Bodo’s from Germany, stuck here after a year abroad program, and Peter’s from Sanford.”
“Why are you in my swamp?”
I decided not to debate the ownership of the Everglades at this juncture. “We came here to escape the canners - the cannibals that are out there.”
He scoffed at that. “Cannibals. Yeah, right.”
“Yeah, cannibals. It’s the truth.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I have no reason to lie?”
“Sure you do.”
“Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”
“So you could come here and steal from me.”
“Steal what? I’ve got news for you, Trip … there are at least fifty creatures probably within twenty feet of me that could kill me right now. Does that sound like something a girl like me purposely goes to live with if she has any other choice?”
“Not really.”
“Exactly. And I don’t go hanging around mosquito infested swamps so I can steal some soap.”
He unhooked his thumbs and came a little closer. “Maybe you’re here for something else.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”
“What’s that?” he asked, giving me a slightly devious smile.
“Trip, you’re a good looking guy, we both can see that. But in case you didn’t notice, I brought one of those with me. So, no, I did not come here to be graced with your awesomeness. I came here to survive. To live.”
He gave me one courtesy chuckle. “Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“Because these are my swamps and I say who stays and who goes. And I say you go.” His smile left his face, leaving behind stone cold anger.
“I’ll fight you for ‘em,” I said, my tone low and controlled.
He smirked at me. “What a joke.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“You look like a hundred pound chick who doesn’t know when to stop talking. You’re no match for me.” He clenched his fists and flexed his pecs - I’m not even totally sure it was intentional.
“Then why say no if you’re not scared?”
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he said, coming even closer. I could smell the musky maleness of him now.
Man oh man is he putting off the testosterone or what?
He continued in a softer but more dangerous-sounding tone. “I think you’re the one who should be scared. You’re in this place, all alone with me. Your friends aren’t going to be able to come and save you. What are you going to do if I get too close?” He was practically touching me now, his hands remaining at his sides. He loomed over me, taller than me by at least six inches.
I didn’t move. I got the impression from his body language and the look in his eyes that this was a game he was playing, calling my bluff. It wasn’t giving me a lot of room to maneuver, if at any point in the game he was going to change his mind about his intentions, but I’d figure out a way to deal with that if it happened. The important thing right now was to not show any fear.
I looked up at him, refusing to break eye contact. “If you get too close, and I have to warn you, you’re almost to that point, I’m going to have to take you down. And I can promise you … it’s gonna hurt.”
He smiled, this time without malice. “I like you. Why is that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Doesn’t matter. Because it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not staying here, and your friend Peter will be delivered into the nearest town at daybreak.”
“No.”
He laughed. “No?”
“That’s what I said. I don’t recognize your authority over these swamps. Since you won’t fight me for that right, they’re up for grabs.”
“According to who?”
“According to the laws of nature, stupid. The strongest survive. That’s obviously me.”
He grabbed my wrist and squeezed it. “You are either really brave or really stupid.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before.” I jerked my arm away. “Fight me for it. Fight me for the swamp if you’re not afraid of losing it all to a hundred pound white girl.”
“Fine. You want to get humiliated in front of two tribes and your friends? Be my guest. Let’s go.” He pushed past me, knocking me to the side, storming out of the hut. I let him get away with that part of the intimidation game so he’d continue to think I was easy prey. I had the advantage as long as I was being underestimated.
I followed him out of the hut, silently praying to my dad, in case he was up there listening, to send me the strength and control that I was going to need to earn the right to stay and live in the Kahayatle with my family.
A space was cleared near the fire, giving us room to hold our fight. The Creek indians were laughing and elbowing each other in the ribs, their gazes alternating between me and their fearless leader. He was pacing around in the circle, occasionally hitting himself in the chest like an ape, getting his anger stoked up and his brain chemicals firing. I’m not sure if he was aware of the actual physical changes he was bringing about for himself, but it didn’t matter. For the next few minutes he’d have more strength and power than usual and it would help him enhance whatever fighting skills he already had. I couldn’t assume he had none.
I allowed the reality of my situation to naturally increase the levels of adrenaline in my system. This guy was almost twice my size, outweighed me by a good seventy pounds - maybe more - and he had something to prove to the entire Creek tribe. On top of all that, he had a giant ego that would only let him lose if he was down to taking his last, dying breath.
Maybe the Creek tribe was only made up of the twenty odd people here, or maybe it was a hundred of them - but it didn’t matter. A guy like this with his ego on the line would go to just about any lengths to protect it, and that was enough to let my brain know that I needed whatever performance enhancing chemicals it had on hand, and I needed them now.
“Bryn, I wish you wouldn’t do this,” said Peter. He sounded exhausted.
“Oh, you’d rather get thrown out on your butt back in town?”
“Heck no. But do you really need to go this far to keep that from happening?”
“There’s more at stake here than just that. These guys need to kiss and make up with the Miccosukee.”
He rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. They spent half the night talking about them. You’re going to have a problem with them getting together. Too many roosters, if you know what I mean.”
“Must have been fun for you,” I said wiggling my eyebrows and giving him a look. “All these sweaty, half-naked man-bodies.”
“A small consolation for my otherwise hellish experience as a kidnap victim.”
“Yeah. There is that whole kidnapping thing, you’re right. You’ll have to give me the details later. Right now, I have to go all American white girl on this guy’s ass.”
Peter chuckled. “You go do that. I’m too tired to worry about you. Just don’t get killed, okay?” His nonchalance about my upcoming battle translated in my mind into confidence in my skills, which made me feel a little better.
Bodo sat, just listening to our conversation. As I stood to walk away, he got up too, taking my hand and pulling me over to him before I could go out into the circle with Trip.
“Before you go out dare and kick dat guy in da balls, I just wanted to say good luck.”
I looked into his eyes and saw they were full of concern. “My dad always said luck is where opportunity meets preparation.”
“He’s right. As soon as his balls are giving you da opportunity for a good kick, take it.” Bodo leaned down before I realized what he was planning to do, and kissed me quickly on the lips. “Kiss for good luck. Try not to let him hurt you. I’m not a very goodt doctor.”
I was stunned into silence for a few seconds, my brain processing what my lips had felt. I broke eye contact with him and looked out at the angry indian in the fighting ring. Then I looked at Peter watching me, and Bodo, holding my hand. I didn’t want that kiss to make me soft, vulnerable for the benefit of Trip. I hardened my heart to the emotions that wanted to dance and sing right now. It was a confusing situation to analyze later. Right now I had to defend my family and our right to live in this safe haven.
I squeezed Bodo’s hand once and pulled mine from his grasp. “Just stay out of my way, that’s all I ask.”
“Dat’s not a problem,” said Bodo, stepping back to sit with Peter.
“Bryn!” whispered Peter loudly.
I turned my head sideways and whispered back, “What?”
“Trip has a knife near his ankle somewhere. I saw it earlier.”
I nodded. Trip probably had one on each ankle if he were smart. I’d bet he wasn’t the kind of guy to tell a girl that before a fight, either. I moved slowly into the area designated for our challenge, watching him move, looking to see where he might have a tell - the thing that would show me his favorite move or his biggest weakness. So far, all I saw was a guy dancing around on the balls of his feet with excellent balance. The shape of his upper body muscles told me that he liked to use a punching bag when he worked out, which meant I was going to have to take as few punches from him as possible if I wanted to stay conscious. Quick and mean strikes in critical zones had to be my methods here. He was too big to use simple power plays on, and too in shape to outlast.
“Just so everyone’s clear,” I said loudly as I walked around the ring, keeping him on the opposite side of it, “we’re fighting for control of the swamp … of the Everglades. I win, I decide who stays and who goes; Trip wins, he decides.”
Trip laughed. “Understood! Now come on over here and get your ass kickin’, girl.”
“You’re gonna whoop a girl?” yelled out one of his tribesmen, half laughing, half sounding as if he didn’t believe it.
“She asked for it!” said Trip. “Practically begged me, even.”
