Mildred was also unable to contain herself. Not only was she pleased that her senses and instinct were still sharp, but she also couldn’t resist a wry grin at the expression of frustration and displeasure on Cath’s face.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Despite herself, she was unable to prevent a little smugness from intruding on her tone as she left the Hellbenders to their target practice and returned to the med lab.
TRAINING TOOK PLACE in the gym that was on the third level of the redoubt. It was still fully equipped from beyond skydark, with a variety of gym equipment both manual and electronic. In the center of the room, a space was cleared for a gym mat that delineated an area where unarmed combat could take place.
Ryan and Krysty were training along with several of the Hellbenders. Many of them were using the old treadmills to work on their muscle strength and stamina, walking long distances at a fast pace with full backpack and weaponry to simulate marching conditions. Ryan was among those who were using the wall bars to climb, hauling themselves up by their arms alone in order to increase arm strength.
Krysty was standing with a small group that was training in unarmed combat, perfecting methods of hand-to-hand fighting.
Training in hand-to-hand was always tricky. There was no way that any of them could pull punches, as that would be almost to defeat the point of playing. However, to seriously damage one of your colleagues with the planned attack so close wasn’t a good thing. So the only option was for both opponents in the ring at any time to concentrate on defense.
A short, stocky man with Hispanic coloring and flowing black hair tied back in a ponytail was in combat with Travis. They were evenly matched in terms of physique, but Travis moved more quickly, jerkily, and with a sense of nervousness that the other man didn’t possess.
One of the spectators leaned across to Krysty. “See Juan,” he whispered from the corner of his mouth, “he’s just about the best fighter we’ve got in here. Guy’s so good that he doesn’t need a blaster.”
“Everyone need a blaster, no matter how good,” the Titian-haired beauty replied, “because if your opponent has one, then you’re fucked if you can’t fight from a distance of more than a few feet.”
“Guess you’re right there.” The Hellbender chuckled, stroking the short, stubbly beard that decorated his pointed chin.
Whether Juan heard this exchange, Krysty couldn’t tell. She just knew that suddenly he increased the intensity of his attack, and from making purely defensive moves to block Travis’s assault, he upped a gear and moved onto the offensive. Blocking a forearm punch from his opponent, Juan followed through smoothly to drive Travis’s arm back, leaving the area of his chest exposed. Travis moved his other arm across to block the expected blow that Juan shaped to make, but instead of making the chop that his flattened hand suggested, the Hispanic shuffled to move his weight and brought up one foot to drive it into the now exposed and turned groin of his opponent. Caught out completely, the sharp blow drove the breath from Travis’s body as a lightning pain shot through his groin, the trapped nerve deadening all sensation in his leg and making it buckle while his genitals and lower gut felt as though a red-hot knife had been slicing through them.
Stunned by the pain and loss of balance, Travis fell forward, stumbling and throwing his arms open to try to regain his balance. Juan took full advantage of this defenseless position by driving home a one-two fisted attack, the right hand taking the prone man in the chest and driving him back, his head snapping up in shock and pain and coming into the perfect position for the second blow to slam into his mouth and nose, the hard knuckles of the Hispanic shattering two of his teeth and causing others to drive into the soft pulp flesh of his mouth while his nose exploded in a shower of blood, the tender skin and cartilage of the septum rupturing.