Maria rode through the streets at breakneck speed, reving her ‘pride and joy’ to maximum capacity, burning around corners and stealing through nearly red lights. How people could confine themselves in steel boxes was something she often wondered, tonight as she rode for what could possibly be her last time, was no different. As she neared her destination she lowered her speed, not wanting to alert anyone with the distinctive sound of her engine. A whole year had passed since she had graced these streets, the abandoned warehouse area, it's tall dank buildings loomed over her as oppressive and depressing as she remembered. How little some things change she thought to herself, and yet nothing remains the same. She pulled the bike up onto the footpath and brought it to a standstill. Removing her helmet, her long hair tumbled down the back of the black leather jacket she wore. Silently but steadily she made her way up the twelve-story fire escape. Climbing through the open window at the top she found herself in a large loft. The roof stood at least twenty feet from the ground and the room was littered with bits and pieces of mismatched furniture; couches and seats, even a rocking chair, graced one corner, a surprisingly clean kitchen the other, and at the far end the furthest from her, on a mattress on the floor, lay the sleeping figure of Michael Guerin. Stealthily she made her way towards the bed, stopping at its foot. Sprawled on his stomach across the queen-sized mattress, in jeans and a sleeveless black tank, Michael didn’t stir. Maria drank in the sight of her childhood playmate; he was her fiercest rival, her best friend, and now, her would-be killer. His hair curled around his face, making him appear a lot older than the wild spikes she remembered, and yet sleeping so peacefully his features took on a gentleness, the constant scowl she remembered was gone, what lay before her was reminiscent of a Botecceli drawing. Maria crept towards the head of the bed, treading slowly and carefully, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed her leg. Quicker than humanly possible Michael stood before Maria, his six foot two inch frame towering over her. “Your dead” he said. Maria gasped involuntarily and backed away from him. But his hands leapt out grabbing her waist, wrapping her in his arms. “God Maria, I thought you were dead” he muttered against her hair. Maria froze in his arms, unsure how to react. Confused Michael she could deal with, Angry-Hostile Michael was her speciality, but not this. This was completely unexpected. Maria raised her hands to his chest and pushed herself away from him. Looking him in the eye she spoke much more calmly than she felt. “Guess you were wrong” His trademark scowl clouded his face as he turned and walked across the room, standing in the centre of the wide open space beneath the skylight, his arms crossed against his chest, his feet apart, his eyes flashed with anger as he watched her, awaiting her next move. Maria silently let out a deep breath she didn’t know she‘d been holding. Relief flooded her as she recognised the fighting stance he had taken, the game as they say, had begun. ~~~ “I want back in” she said advancing towards him standing meters away, mimicking his position. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” “No explanation, no answers, you expect just to walk back in, everything forgotten and play happy families again?” Instead of answering, Maria strode to the far side of the room, grasping two wooden sticks that rested against the wall, each about four foot long and the thickness of a wrist. She threw one at him, he caught it one handed and stared at it as though it were a foreign object he’d never laid eyes on before. In actual fact, Michael and Maria had spent countless hours fighting each other with these same sticks, his might more often than not overcoming hers, but sometimes the roles were reversed. Today, she prayed, would be one of them. “If I can beat you, and I think I can, you let me back in” she removed her leather jacket, tossing it to the wall and returned to her position opposite him. “And if not? You’ll what…Disappear without a trace again?” “I don’t intend on losing” And then everything changed, Michael shifted position, back to his fighting stance of before. Maria felt the adrenaline rush through her body. The challenge had been set- There was nothing more to say. They were facing each other, ready to fight. Maria could deal with this Michael much better than the others she had seen today, She knew him in this mood, cocky and self-assured, but determined to win. This was very familiar. First he would try to disarm her, going for her dominant wrist. Sure enough he swung his stick up and down in a perfect arc, aiming for her right wrist. Maria blocked easily with her own stick and felt the shock as wood clashed with wood. She instantly changed her grip and tried for a trap, but he whipped his stick out of the way and was facing her as if he’d never moved. “You’re so predictable Michael,” she told him “ I could fight you in my sleep” Anger sparked in his eyes and he brought down his stick sharply as if to strike, Maria once again blocked, moving forward in the process. Suddenly Michael grabbed her stick, pulling her towards him and lowering his head to hers. Staring into his eyes was the last thing she remembered before his lips met hers, and her world fell away. TBC

Part 5