The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 9

Emma peered through her scope at the first car and exhaled.  “It’s deliberate,” she breathed.  The first shot tore through the radiator; steam spewed into the air.  “It’s precise.”  The next shot took out something in the engine, and the driver stomped on his brake, slewing across the road.  “And it’s efficient.”  The third shot ricocheted off the engine block into the truck, fragmenting and sending shrapnel and chaos through the passenger compartment.  The second SUV slammed into the first and skidded into the ditch.  The third car clipped the rear of the second and veered to the opposite side.

“Wow,” she murmured, staring at the mayhem.  She shook her head and took a breath.  “Okay, time to go.”  She straightened up, ran to the secure room, and banged on the door, “Rachel!  It’s me, Emma!  We gotta haul ass!” 

The door sprang open.  Rachel’s eyes were wide, her breath, rapid.  She was slightly panicked and searching for answers.  “Are we okay?  I heard shots.”  Gunfire erupted below, and she shrieked and covered her ears.

Emma dropped the rifle and pulled her down to a crouch.   “We’re doing okay.  It’s just a little busy downstairs.”  A series of explosions rocked the building as the claymore mines in the ditch detonated, throwing dirt and debris into the air.  The cloud of smoke would hide them, she realized; this would be the time to move.  “Let’s get away from all this dust!” 

Rachel bit her lip, “I’m ready.”  She ducked her head down as Emma grabbed her hand.  The two girls raced down the hall toward the safety of the Residence.

 

“Our claymores rendered eight opposing combatants ineffective,” Cerberus reported calmly through the headset. 

“Where are the others?” asked Miss Lena.  She leaned into her rifle, studying the firing pattern of one of the shooters.

“There are eight active targets in the ditch near the vehicles – correction, six active targets.  Master Sasaki has dispatched two combatants.”

The house mother counted softly, “Bang, bang, pause.  Bang, bang, pause.”  Her opponent rose up, took two shots, then ducked down.  He stood up again –

Cerberus noted matter-of-factly, “There are now five active combatants in the ditch – correction, four combatants.”

Miss Lena wrinkled her brow, thinking hard.  Something wasn’t adding up.  Suddenly, she blurted out, “CERBERUS, where are the other four??”

 His reply was calm, as always, “There are four combatants breaching the Residence.” 

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 8

Master Sasaki silently appeared at Emma’s side, putting his hand on her arm to lower the machine gun.  “It is okay,” he said softly, “I have Cerberus watching the perimeter.  The computer will let us know if someone gets too close.”

“Who ARE these people?”  Emma shook her head.  “What’s going on?”

Miss Lena joined them on the balcony and motioned them over to the situation room.  “I think I know who they are.  Can we look the security footage though?  I think I saw something on one of their hands.”  Master Sasaki replayed the video from the front of the compound.  “There,” the house mother interrupted, “Sensei, what’s that on the back of his hand?”

He zoomed in and they all leaned in to look at the monitor.  Tattooed on the back of the man’s hand were the stylized letters DD. “Kuso,” Sensei spat.

Miss Lena glanced over at him.  “Dammit, indeed.”  She looked up at Emma with an explanation, “That tattoo is the mark of the Dextera Dei, The Right Hand of God.  They’re a right-wing white supremist group.”  She straightened up and twisted her long blonde hair into a bun.  “They’re very old-school, very misogynistic, very militant.”  She unlocked a gun cabinet and pulled out a Benelli M4 shotgun and slung it over her back. 

Suddenly, Cerberus announced from the speakers, “Three vehicles approaching.  I’ve identified twenty, two zero subjects.  Handguns and assault rifles.  Time to intercept: two minutes.”

Miss Lena’s eyes darkened.  “Cerberus, Protocol Z.”  She pulled a Sig MCX Spear assault rifle from the cabinet.  Then, with a grim tone, she turned to Emma.  “Protocol Z triggers a Quick Reaction Force from San Antonio.  Never had to use it before, so this should be interesting.”  She shrugged.  “The bad news is that it takes about two hours for the Blackhawk helicopters to get here.”  She took a sniper rifle from the cabinet and handed it to her student.  “So,” she took a deep breath, “all we have to do is hold out for two hours.”  She glanced at Master Sasaki who held up his katana.  She gave him a quick nod, and he dashed out of the room, leapt from the terrace, and disappeared into the dark.

Out on the balcony, the house mother pointed down the driveway.  “When the first vehicle gets inside the gate, right past the ditch, disable the car.  Two, maybe three shots between the headlights.  When the bad guys jump into the ditch, we have a surprise for them.”  She looked up, “Here they come.”  She put her hand on Emma’s arm.  “Take out the car, grab Rachel, fall back to the residence.”  She gave her arm a quick squeeze, “Trust your training.”  She slipped a computer earphone on and tapped it, “Cerberus, connect… Get ready for our guests…”  With a taut smile, Miss Lena turned and ran down the stairs.

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 7

 

A speck of light appeared in the rear-view mirror.  Emma stared at it for a moment and pressed on the gas, her small car leapt forward.

Next to her, Rachel felt the vehicle surge.  She turned around in her seat and looked backward.  Her small voice wavered, “Is it them?”

Emma answered calmly, softly, “I don’t know, but it never hurts to be prepared.”  She toggled her phone.

Even at that early hour of the morning, Miss Lena’s perky voice lit up the interior of the car.  “Hello, Emma!” her happy greeting began.  “Is everything alright?”

“I’m okay for now.  I’m coming back to the school.”  She glanced in the mirror.  “I have someone in my car who needed my help, and we’re being pursued.”

The house mother was mater-of-fact, “I understand you have one passenger.  What is your threat assessment?”

“The vehicle is a commercial grade, dark-colored crew cab pickup truck.  Four -” Emma glanced at Rachel, who nodded, eyes widening, “four tangos.  Unknown weapons, if any.”

“Understand four tangos, unknown load-out.  Your ETA?”

Emma glanced at her car’s screen, “Estimated Time of Arrival approximately 15, one five, minutes.”

Miss Lena’s voice was soothing and direct.  “Enter the courtyard.  We’ll secure the door behind you when you arrive.  The welcoming committee will be waiting.  See you soon.”

Emma sent one last message.  “They’re pissed.”

There was a pause.  “…Understood…”

 

Emma raced down the dirt road toward the Academy.  The glowing lights from the school were a welcome sight, and she sped through the open doors of the courtyard.  She skidded to a stop, a cloud of dust settling around the car.  Her driving app had said fifteen minutes; she was leaping from her car in ten.  “What do we do?” she called, as she spotted Miss Lena.  The teacher, her hair up in her usual ponytail, had traded her pink skirt and heels for a pastel blue sweatsuit and matching sneakers.  She pushed the heavy doors to the courtyard closed and dropped the bar into place.

The house mother turned and handed Emma an MP5.  “Your guest stays close to you,” she said with a smile.  She turned to the younger girl and extended her hand, “Hi, my name is Miss Lena.  Emma will take good care of you.” 

Rachel blinked and shook her hand.  “Hi,” she whispered shyly. 

Miss Lena turned back to talk to Emma, “Go to the second-floor balcony that looks over the front driveway; she can stay in the secure room up there for now.  Master Sasaki is in the next room over in the situation room providing overwatch.”

“What are you going to do?”  A concerned expression crossed Emma’s face.

“Well, I’m going to talk to them first.”  Smiling, she patted her student’s arm.  “While I do that, you’re going to cover me from up there,” she motioned to the walkway.  Her voice became serious, “Watch your field of fire, and remember, these aren’t paper targets.”  She studied Emma’s face.  “Will you be okay?”

Her eyes narrowed, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright,” she gave Emma’s arm a squeeze.  “We’ll talk in a little bit.”  Her house mother turned, her ponytail swaying, and tucked a handgun into a holster behind her back.  Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside to wait for the visitors.

 

From her vantage point upstairs, Emma watched as the dark colored crew cab sped up the driveway.  She ushered Rachel into one of the rooms, handing her a set of noise-cancelling headphones.  “Find some nice music to listen to,” she said, smiling.  “Mash this button to lock the door.  I’ll be right outside, someone else is right next door.  I’ll come get you in a minute.”  She gave the young girl a thumbs up and was rewarded with a quick hug. 

“Be careful,” Rachel peeped as the door closed.

Emma turned her attention to the driveway.  Suddenly, strong spotlights bathed the front of the school, illuminating the scene in an eerie light.  The pickup skidded to a halt and Bobby stepped out of the passenger side of the truck.  “Give that Rachel girl back!” he screamed to Miss Lena, “She belongs to me!”  Emma watched carefully, her gun ready. 

Miss Lena’s calm voice echoed in the quiet desert air.  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”

The driver side door creaked open, and Emma called out, “I would not do that, mister.” The driver froze, then slowly retreated back into the truck.  Bobby’s gaze shot up to the balcony, taking in the sight of the young student, a machine gun poised and ready.  Miss Lena took that opportunity to move to the side and flank the truck.  She quickly drew her firearm.

Her steady voice was clear and deliberate, “We do not use our guns to scare people, sir.  We use them to stop people.  I suggest you go back to where you came from and just calm down.” 

Bobby’s eyes narrowed, and he put up his hands.  “We’re not done here,” he spat, and slowly climbed back into the truck.  “Y’all are going to regret this.”  The truck’s engine growled, and the driver threw the vehicle into reverse.  It slew around on the gravel, turning away from the school, and retreated down the drive.  About a quarter of a mile away, the headlights finally stopped, the truck sitting quietly, a wolf studying its prey.

Emma watched quietly.  “Kore ga watashinoiedesu.”

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 6

Emma’s mind was whirling.  How did Bobby’s family find them?  She spoke thoughtfully, quietly probing, “Bobby’s family found us somehow…” 

“How did they do that?” cried Rachel, “What do we do now?”

Emma breathed a silent sigh of relief.  From Rachel’s response, she could rule out the idea that the girl had somehow called Bobby.  Suddenly, something clicked.  “You said that when he met you at the mall, he had a gift for you?”

Rachel’s hand flew to her neck.  “He put this necklace on me in the truck.”  She yanked it off.

“Throw it out,” Emma ordered.  “Check your pockets just to make sure he didn’t slip anything into them.”  Rachel patted herself down, turning her pockets inside out to double check, then tossed the necklace out the window.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”  Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Not your fault,” Emma consoled the young girl.  “It didn’t occur to me.  I was just trying to figure out how he kept finding us.”

“Is it over?” sniffed Rachel.

Emma took a deep breath.  “I sure hope so.  I’m tired of seeing these people.”

Rachel, on the verge of crying, rubbed her nose on her sleeve.  “I just want to go home.”

“Hey, you know what?” Emma jumped in to distract her.  “I still need to teach you some self-defense!”

Her passenger blinked several times and swallowed.  “Really?  You can teach me something right now?”

“Well sure!”  Emma smiled at her, thinking fast.  “What’s something that you probably have with you all the time?”

The corner of Rachel’s mouth turned up a tiny bit.  “My phone…”  She took it out of her pocket and held it in her hands.

“Of course!  Now here’s what you’re going to do,” she encouraged.  “Remember, someone is trying to hurt you, so you’re going to go all out, don’t hold back.”

“Don’t hold back,” the girl repeated.

“Exactly.  Now hold your phone like you’d hold a rock,” Emma glanced over and nodded.  “Just like that.”  She smiled, “That’s perfect.”  Taking a breath, she continued, “If you wanted to hit somebody with your fists, they’re just not hard enough.  But take that phone and hit someone with the edge of it?  They’re going to feel it.”

Rachel’s eyes grew large.  “Where do I hit them?” she asked quietly.

“Do you remember what I told you that you should know?”

She thought for a moment.  “Don’t be there,” she recalled.

“That’s it,” Emma replied.  “So you’re going to want to get away.  Let me tell you what will probably happen.  They’re going to come after you, so try to get away first.  If you can’t, pull out your phone and get ready.”

Rachel bit her lip, listening hard.  “Okay.”

“They’re going to grab you, but don’t be scared.  You have a plan.”

“I have a plan,” she repeated.

 Emma gave her a tight smile, “Yes you do.  When they grab you, right away, strike back.  They’re not going to expect it.  As loud as you can, you’re going to yell NO and take the edge of that phone and smack them right in the middle of their forearm.  As hard as you can!”

“As hard as I can!” she intoned.

“They’re going to let go, and then…”  Emma waited.

“And then I run away…” A smile of wonder crossed Rachel’s face.

Emma repeated softly, “And then you run away.” 

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 5

 

‘THAT way’ was back to the school.   It would take a few hours, but it was the closest thing to sanctuary that Emma could think of.  As the two drove down the highway, Emma frequently checked her rearview mirror as Rachel sat quietly, her legs pulled up and her arms around her knees.  The young girl kept glancing over at Emma and finally asked, “How do you know all this stuff?”

“Hmm?  What stuff?” Emma answered.

“Like the taking-out-assholes-in-restrooms stuff, the driving-in-the-dark-at-night stuff, the kore ga whatchamacallit stuff…”

Emma glanced over at Rachel with a little smile.  “I learned it in school.”

Rachel shook her head and said, “I don’t think my school has anything like that.”

“Well no, I don’t suppose it would.”  Emma mused, “I didn’t have a typical childhood, I guess.”  She took a deep breath and changed the topic.  “We need to come up with a plan.”

“A plan sounds good,” Rachel responded.  “Can you teach me some self-defense moves?”

Emma furrowed her brows for a moment before she replied.  “I’ll be happy to.  I think everyone should know some self-defense.”

Rachel nodded her head in agreement.  “I know, right?”  She held up her hands, ready to make a karate chop.  “What’s the first thing I should know?”

Emma was calm and thoughtful as she spoke.  “One of the first things you should learn is ‘don’t be there,’” she said simply.

“Wait, what?”  Rachel’s hands dropped slightly.

Emma smiled and explained, “Self-defense is all about protecting yourself.  So the first thing is, ‘Don’t be there.’  In a broad sense, avoid situations and locations where you might be in danger.  Try and keep danger at least at arm’s length.”  She glanced over at Rachel, who looked slightly disappointed about what Emma had just said. 

She sensed that Rachel was looking for something more active, so she continued, “But sometimes, you don’t have a choice, or you don’t expect that something is going to happen.  Someone comes into your personal space.  So the second thing is; when something goes down, be fearless, believe in yourself, push through your fears to the other side.  No one has to give you permission to protect yourself.”

Rachel blinked a couple of times.  “What if I hurt them?” her voice shook just a little.

Emma pursed her lips.  “Generally, I think most people don’t really want to hurt other people.”  She gave Rachel a sympathetic look.  “But, if someone is trying to hurt you, or you need to protect someone, all bets are off.  In that case, don’t be afraid.”  Emma stared at the dark road ahead.  “Yell in your loudest voice ‘NO’ to tell them to stop, but also to tell yourself ‘No’; as in, they have NO power over you.  And then…” she shrugged, “become an unstoppable force.”  Emma reached over and tapped Rachel above her belly button.  “This is your core, this is your house.  You have power in your house.  Kore ga watashinoiedesu.”

Rachel looked down and unconsciously rubbed the spot.  “…I have power,” she murmured.

 

Emma checked the clock.  It had been about an hour and a half since the encounter at the rest stop, and she needed a break.  A truck stop loomed ahead, one of those large 24-hour places, and she pulled in, happy to have the chance to put some gas into the tank and stretch her legs.  From the passenger seat, Rachel, who had been dozing, blinked her eyes and yawned.  “I need to pee.  Can we get some snacks or something too?”

“Sure,” Emma replied, “that sounds good.”  She pulled up to a pump, and Rachel climbed out and went inside.  Emma rubbed her face, got out, and stretched, trying to release the tension in her body.  Sighing, she turned on the pump and slid the nozzle into the vehicle.  As she leaned against her car, she closed her eyes and grabbed a moment of rest.

“Where’s Rachel?!” a voice yelled.  Emma’s eyes blinked open, and she cursed herself.  She had zoned out and failed to notice the truck that had pulled up behind her car.   She spun around to face the truck, only to see Bobby climbing out of the crew cab.  An older version of Bobby, his father perhaps, was getting out of the driver’s side.

She heard Rachel scream and saw her standing in the middle of the parking lot.  Her fists were clenched and she screamed again, “NOOOOO!”

Emma whipped around and nodded, forcefully saying to Rachel.  “Get in the car!” 

Then she snatched the gas nozzle from her car and turned back toward the two men.  “Leave her,” she said flatly.  The two men took a couple of steps and Emma slowly shook her head.  They paused for a moment and looked at each other.  When they moved toward Emma again, she gave them a small smile, then squeezed the handle of the gas hose.  Gasoline spewed toward the two, soaking them, making them sputter and cough.  She hosed them down again.  Then she calmly jammed the nozzle into the front grill of their truck and locked it open.

Satisfied, she turned and walked to her car and climbed in.  Rachel glanced at her, wide-eyed, her mouth searching for words.  “You did great.  You should buckle up,” Emma said evenly.  She looked in her rear-view mirror at the two men staggering around, gasping for air.  “We should leave.”

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 4

Rachel appeared to shrink in her seat.  “Do you think it’s them?”  Her voice was small and shaky.

“I’m not sure,” Emma replied, “but it might be.  There are a few things we can do.”  She pointed to an overpass in the distance.  “That’s our chance.”  She quickly killed her lights, and in the dark, raced for the off ramp.  There was just enough moonlight for Emma to navigate the roadway, and she expertly downshifted through the gears to slow the car without having to use the brakes.  She made the turn to get onto the overpass and brought the car to a halt.  “Let’s take a look at who that is,” she said and climbed out of the car.  They had maybe a minute before the car passed, she figured.

“Won’t they see us?” Rachel whispered.

“We’re on the far side of the bridge, so they won’t see the car,” Emma reassured her.  “And we won’t stand where the headlights will catch us, but where we can see them as they pass.  It will be safe.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rachel.

Emma leaned in toward her, “I’m sure.”  Then she smiled, “Don’t be scared.  They won’t see us.  They can’t hear us either, so you don’t have to whisper.”

“Oh, right.” Rachel wrapped her arm around herself.  “I’m just…”

“You’ve got a lot on your mind,” Emma said simply.  “We’ll sort it out.” She glanced at the highway.  “As for now, let’s see who this is.”  They made their way to the edge of the bridge as the headlights passed under the overpass.

A dark pickup with a crew cab raced by.  Rachel gave a small gasp.  “It’s them.”

Emma nodded grimly.  “Okay then.  They’re going THAT way, so we’re going to go-” she pointed in the opposite direction, “-THAT way.”

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 3

Emma glanced in her rear-view mirror.  There were no headlights giving chase, but it would only be a matter of time before the people in the truck would respond.  The long stretches of Texas highway would allow her to see anyone behind her for miles, and right now, Emma figured the best thing to do would be to put as much distance between her car and those people. 

A soft sniffle brought her attention back into her car.  Emma gave Rachel a quick glance.  The girl had drawn her knees up and had her arms wrapped around them.  Emma spoke softly, comfortingly, “You’re okay Rachel.  You’re with me.  It’s going to be alright.”

A large tear rolled down Rachel’s cheek.  “I thought he was going to kill you.  I thought he was going to kill you and then I’d never have another chance to get away.”

“Well, you’re here with me now.  I’ll keep you safe.”  Emma promised.  She paused for a few moments, then asked, “What was that all about anyway?”

Rachel cried softly.  “Bobby said he was going to make me his wife-”

“Wait, that guy is your fiancé??”

“No!” Rachel exclaimed.  “He’s just a guy I met on the internet.”  Then she sighed miserably.  “I don’t know how this happened.”

Emma furrowed her brow.  “So how did it get from ‘just a guy you met on the internet’ to he’s going to make you his wife?”

 Rachel wiped the tears from her face.  “It all started when I was in a chat room.  Bobby messaged me.  He was all nice, told me how pretty I looked, how special I was.  I thought that was sweet.  We started chatting pretty regular after that.”  The car raced through the dark as Rachel reminisced.  “After a few weeks, he said that we should meet.  And I thought it would be cool, so we set up a time and place.  I decided that the mall would be a safe place with lots of people around.”

Emma looked over at the troubled young girl.  “Did you tell anyone that you were meeting him?”

Rachel’s lower lip trembled.  “No.  Bobby was a secret.  I mean, I told my friends that I had met someone special in a chat room, but they didn’t know I was going to meet him.”  She glanced hesitantly at Emma.  “Please don’t judge me.  I know I was stupid.”

Emma shook her head.  “You weren’t stupid.  You were taken advantage of.  Guys like that know what to say to trick people.”

“But still, I should have known better.  He said he had a present for me in his truck, so we went out to the parking lot,” Rachel continued.  “That’s when he grabbed me and threw me in the truck.”  She started to cry again.  “When I screamed, some guy came over and then Bobby pulled out a knife and stabbed him.  He was just left lying in the parking lot.  It’s all my fault,” she sobbed.

The storm of emotions that swirled in Emma’s mind would have to wait.  For the moment, Emma needed to give Rachel a steady place to stand.  She shook her head emphatically, “Not your fault.  There was an unfortunate crossing of different paths.  You walk your path, not someone else’s.”

There was a small hiccup and then Rachel asked, “What does that mean?”

“We make choices in our lives; we choose our path.  We don’t choose the path that other people take.  Those paths cross and things happen.”  Emma was quiet for a few moments, then said, “The difficult part is learning to accept the choices that we make.  Kore ga watashinoiedesu.”

“I heard you say that back in the restroom!” Rachel exclaimed.  “What does that mean?”

Emma pursed her lips and flashed back to those first days in Sensei’s class.  “Literally, it translates to ‘this is my house.’  It means you control what happens around you; your choices, your actions, the consequences, how you move on after that.  You have power in your house.”

The younger girl nodded.  “When you said that back at the rest stop, it was like it gave you superpowers.”

Emma allowed herself a small smile.  “I’m no superhero; I’ve just had some training.”

“Can you teach me?” Rachel asked.

Emma gave her a glance before her eyes flickered to the rear-view mirror, “There are some things I could teach you.  But not right now.”

“Why not now?”

“I think,” Emma said as she stole another look at the mirror, “that we’re going to have some company.”  She pressed her foot down on the accelerator as Rachel turned around in her seat.  Off in the distance, there was a faint glow of approaching headlights.

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 2

The girl stood still with her hand over her mouth, and she stared at the unconscious figure on the floor of the restroom.  Emma knew she had to move quickly, or the girl might freeze in place.  She grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look into her eyes.  “Rachel, it’s okay.  Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

She blinked a few times and drew in a shuddering breath.  Her eyes came into focus as she looked at Emma.  “He could’ve killed you.  I’ve seen him kill people.”

Emma glanced at the crumpled figure on the floor.  “Maybe, but not today, and not now.”  She turned her attention back to Rachel.  “We need to get you out of here.”

The girl started to panic.  “His parents and uncle are probably watching from the truck.”

“It’s okay,” Emma said reassuringly.  “I have an idea.”  With that, she took off her hoodie and gave it to Rachel.  She closed her eyes and remembered: Presence/non-presence.  Emma opened her eyes and smiled.  “They’re going to see you but not see you.”  She pulled the hood up over Rachel’s head and took her car keys from the pocket.  “We’re about the same size.  They will think that you’re me.”  She looked at Rachel’s frightened face.  “It will be okay.  You’re going to walk to the black car down there.  Unlock it with my remote, so you’ll see the lights flash and know which car it is.  Get in on the driver’s side but move over to the passenger seat right away.  I’ll be getting in as soon as you’re in.”

Emma looked into Rachel’s eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled.  “You got this.  Put your hands in your pockets, then walk, don’t run, don’t look at anything except the car.”  Rachel gave a small nod and Emma said simply, “Let’s go.”  She gave the girl a gentle push toward the door and watched her shuffle down the sidewalk.  As Rachel passed by the truck, Emma slipped out the door in the other direction and circled around the other side of the building.  She ran quickly in the dark, moving up behind her car.  She watched for the car lights to blink and for Rachel to get in.  Within moments, Emma joined her with a grin.  “You did great.  Time to go.”  Emma started the car, and they rolled past the truck, away from the rest stop.

The Twelve Bitches: The Road Not Taken: Chapter 1

 

Emma was the last student to leave the campus.  She had packed and unpacked her car, not quite sure what to bring to the beach for spring break, so by the time she finally left, it was already dark.  It would be a long drive to South Padre, but despite the late hour, Emma wanted to get on the road.  She waved goodbye to Miss Lena and Sensei who were staying behind to watch over the school during the holiday.  After a few hours of driving, it was time to take a break, and she pulled into a rest stop along the highway.

A light sleeper, Emma woke when the headlights of a vehicle washed over her car.  A dark colored pickup truck passed where her car was parked and rolled to a halt by the restrooms.  She raised an eyebrow as the back door of the crew cab opened and a man exited, pulling a young woman from the truck behind him.  He pushed her roughly toward the building then leaned against the truck, watching her stumble as she walked to the restroom.

Emma sat up a little straighter in her seat.  Maybe it was none of her business, but something was giving her a bad feeling about what she had just seen.  She took her keys from the ignition and slipped them into the pocket of her hoodie; her sheath of twin knives slid to her back as she left her car.  She pulled the hood over her head and made her way to the restrooms, nodding to the man as he watched her from his truck.

A young girl standing at a sink glanced up fearfully as Emma entered.  She can’t be more than 14, Emma thought to herself.  She walked to the next sink and washed her face, then turned to the girl.  “Are you okay?” Emma asked softly.

The girl wiped her eyes and nodded.  Emma said nothing and just gazed into her eyes.  The girl bit her lip, then slowly shook her head.

Suddenly, the man appeared in the restroom.  He ignored Emma and growled at the girl.  “Rachel, get back to the truck.  I told you not to talk to anyone.”

Emma stepped between them and smiled at him pleasantly, “Dude, you need to chill…”

“And you need to butt out,” he snapped back and reached out to push her out of the way.

As his hand reached to push her, Emma reacted instantly, instinctively.  Kore ga watashinoiedesu.  She turned slightly, and the shoulder he was reaching for was no longer there.  He fell forward a bit, and Emma’s left hand came up to grab his wrist, pulling him and making him lose his balance.  She pivoted, dropped her center of gravity, and the young man tumbled satisfactorily against the wall.  She heard the reassuring thud of his skull against the cinder block wall, and she stepped back to allow his limp body to drop to the floor.

She calmly turned toward the girl.  “We should leave.”

The Twelve Bitches: The Tao of Emma: The Way of the Mind

Emma’s abilities sharpened and grew.  She studied the tactics and philosophies from The Art of War and The Book of Five Rings.

From The Art of War, she absorbed the concepts of strategic thinking and adaptability.  She embraced the ideas of taking advantage of timing and opportunity, and how to use deception and misdirection.  For Emma, these were all the pieces of a puzzle coming together in her mind.  She reveled in the lessons from The Book of Five Rings, exploring the concepts of discipline and mastery, using her intuition, seeking the hidden paths, being open to new ideas.

And after studying the Texas Driver’s Manual, at age 16, Emma got her driver’s license. 

The Twelve Bitches: The Tao of Emma: The Way of the Knife

 

“What is this?” Emma asked as Sensei presented her with a flat wooden box tied with a cord.

“Emma-san, it is customary that when a kōhai reaches a particular achievement, their sempai will present them with a gift.”

Emma untied the box and opened it.  She gasped and ran her fingers over the contents, “A set of throwing knives!”

“Hai, a deadly dozen,” intoned Sensei.

Emma picked up one of the knives, testing its balance and weight.  “Do they have a name?”

Sensei raised an eyebrow.  “Warriors will typically choose names to honor their purpose or to strike fear in their enemies.  They will give names such as ‘Death Bringer’ or ‘Oathkeeper’ or-”

“The Twelve Bitches,” proclaimed Emma happily.  “Their name is The Twelve Bitches.”

A bemused smile crossed Sensei’s face.  “So it shall be.  The Twelve Bitches is their name.”  He quietly left the target room, the soft thud of knives hitting their mark behind him.

 

Later that night, Miss Lena was walking the halls, checking the lights and doors, when she saw a light coming from one of the hallways.  As she turned the corner, she discovered Master Sasaki looking through the window of the knife throwing room.  “Wha-” she began, before Sensei raised a finger to his lips to quiet her.  He waved her over to join him as he gazed through the glass.  The house mother glanced into the room, then gasped as she watched the young girl happily throwing knives at a target.  “Is she…How??” Lena whispered.

Sensei nodded.  “Fukanōna nage, an impossible throw.”  Emma had positioned a board halfway down the range, obscuring the view of the target.  And yet, she was hitting the bullseye, the knife curving around the board to hit its mark.

Miss Lena turned to Sensei, her voice incredulous.  “Knives can’t curve like that…They’re not boomerangs…  It’s…it’s…”

“…impossible,” he finished, then gestured toward the girl in the target room.  “And yet...”  There was a soft thud as a knife found the target.  Sensei pulled Miss Lena away from the door, shaking his head.  “Do not tell that one what she cannot do.”

The Twelve Bitches: The Tao of Emma: The Way of the Gun

 

As they were training one day, Emma turned to her teacher and asked, “What about guns?”

Sensei shook his head.  “Guns present a unique danger, Emma-san.  Where is the tip of the sword on a gun?”

Emma thought carefully.  “From the end of the muzzle to however far the bullet can reach.”

Her teacher nodded, “It is difficult to be out of the range of the tip of the sword of a gun.  What is the alternative?”

“To be under the sword,” she replied quietly.

His lips were set in a grim line.  “And then?”

“Strike hard and strike fast.  Neutralize the attacker or take away their gun.”

“Now we train.”   He looked into her eyes and said, “You must have knowledge, speed, and guile.  You can defeat any attacker,”

“Sensei, what happens if you can’t reach the attacker or the gun?”

“Take away their ability to use it.  Blind them so they cannot see, take away their air so they cannot breathe, freeze them so they cannot move, move them so they cannot attack.”  Sensei calmly looked at his student and spoke quietly.  “Guns are just a tool, Emma-san.  Remember, YOU are the weapon; the sword, the knife, the gun are just tools.  It is you that does the killing.”

 

It was a few months later when Miss Lena led Emma to the gun range.  The house mother opened the door and handed the young girl a set of shooting glasses.  “I’ll be your firearms instructor,” she said brightly to her slightly astonished student.  “Let’s start with the basics,” she began with a smile.  “Always treat the gun as if it were loaded…” and then, step by step, Miss Lena walked her young charge through the basics of firearms safety. 

Throughout the lesson, Emma kept stealing glances at her house mother, trying to process this new facet of the bubbly young woman.  Firearms were deadly, and yet Miss Lena, in her pastel pink skirt and jacket, projected the complete opposite of the lethality of the gun.  The instructor caught the hesitancy of her student, and gently asked, “Are you okay?”

Emma gave a slight shake of her head, staring at the pistol lying on the table in front of her.  “Guns are…” she struggled to find the right word, “…deliberate… grim…I don’t know…”  She looked up at Miss Lena, “And there you are, all light…and cheerful…”

The house mother nodded and took a moment before she spoke.  Her tone became somber and thoughtful.  “I’ve seen what guns can do, Emma, and I’ve lost some friends to them.  One thing that we deliberate, with everything that we do here, is ask-” Miss Lena took a long breath, “- can we justify the work that we do.”

She cleared her thoughts, shaking her head.  “I use a mixer to bake a cake; I use a hammer to put nails into the wall to hang pictures.  A gun is another tool.”  Her face was set in a tight smile.  “I don’t allow the deadliness of a gun to stop me from doing my job.” The house mother carefully secured the pistol.  “The gun, the knife, the sword, all deadly.  But remember,” she raised an eyebrow, “YOU are the weapon.”

 

As with most of her studies, it did not take long for Emma to become proficient in the use of firearms, handguns, shotguns, rifles.   Interestingly enough, she was drawn to one particular type of gun.

Miss Lena and Emma were on the rifle range where the student was systematically dropping targets that were 600 yards away.  The teacher looked up from the spotting scope for a moment, then back downrange at the 800-yard targets.  “Why do you like the sniper rifle so much, Emma?”

The young girl rested her cheek against the buttstock of the gun for a moment, then carefully loaded a new magazine.  She focused downrange.  “It’s deliberate,” she pulled the trigger and heard the satisfying ring of the bullet hitting the 800-yard target.  “It’s precise,” there was another clang.  “And it’s efficient.”  One more slap of metal on metal. 

Emma peered through her scope and shifted a tiny bit; Miss Lena raised her eyebrow and refocused downrange.  “One target,” the young girl murmured as she sent the bullet toward the 1000-yard target, “One shot.”  Her words were punctuated by the ringing of steel.

The Twelve Bitches: The Tao of Emma: The Way of the Sword

It only took a few weeks before Emma was invited to attend the kendo class.  But as easily as she had learned the earlier katas, this new class gave her a different set of problems.

Emma pulled the padded armor from her head and sighed loudly, dropping it to the floor.  Sensei raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to sit next to him.  He stared straight ahead, watching the other students, and after a moment, he said, “You are troubled.”  She nodded and he asked, “What is happening?”

Emma said dejectedly, “Everyone keeps hitting me on the head.”

Sensei nodded.  “What would you LIKE to happen?”

“I’d LIKE them to stop hitting me on the head!” she replied, pouting.

He pursed his lips in thought.  “Why do they hit your head?  There are other places to score points.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to sit and think.  “Why DID they hit me on the head?” she thought.  She closed her eyes and tried to picture her matches.  Being the youngest and newest student in the dojo did put her at a disadvantage.  “Did they hit me on the head as a kind of hazing ritual?” she wondered.  There were several other students who had started at about the same time that she had, and they didn’t get hit on the head as often…

It suddenly dawned on her.  Not only was Emma the youngest, but she was also the shortest!  When she was at the ready position, her head was right in front and under her opponent’s sword.  “Sensei,” Emma turned to talk to him.  “I’m short.  My head is an easy target.”

Sensei nodded.  “If offered, your opponent will almost always take an easy victory.”

She thought about that for a few moments.  “I should not be an easy target,” she said thoughtfully.  Emma stood up and got into the ready position.  She closed her eyes and imagined someone standing in front of her, swinging his shinai, trying to strike her head.  “Don’t be an easy target,” she thought and keeping her eyes closed, instinctively stepped backwards.  She frowned.  “That didn’t feel right,” she said to herself, shaking her head.  She opened her eyes to find Sensei watching her appreciatively.

He nodded and asked, “Why was that wrong?”

Emma searched for an explanation and came up empty.  “I don’t know.  It felt weak, like I was giving my opponent an advantage.”

Sensei smiled.  “Very good.  Now think about this…”  He moved in front of her and gestured to her to raise her shinai.  “Observe.  When your opponent wants to strike you, he will try to strike you here-” He grabbed the end of the practice sword and held on, moving to the left and then to the right.  “He will try and strike you here, with this,” he repeated.

She nodded, showing that she understood, “At the tip of the sword.”

“Hai.  Now think, Emma-san, where will most people go if they don’t want to get hit?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

Still holding the shinai against his chest, Emma used her other hand to gesture outward, behind her teacher.  “They will want to go out there, away from the tip of the sword.”

“That is what your opponent will expect,” he said and paused for a moment.  “And where,” he continued, “will he NOT expect?”

She considered the options.  “Not at the tip of the sword, not beyond…” she thought.  Her eyes widened in surprise and exclaimed, “He would not expect me to be here, under his sword!”

“Do not fall into a false sense of security with this knowledge.  Yes, as an attack from under the sword would not be expected, but remember, it is as dangerous to you as it is to your enemy since you are much closer.”

“Dangerous for them, dangerous for me…” she said thoughtfully.

“Hai, but you will have the advantage of surprise.  Strike hard and strike fast.  Maximum damage, then retreat.”

Emma took in his words, staring at the tip of her shinai and slowly turned around in a circle.  “This circle is important, isn’t it Sensei?” she said seriously.

He nodded and pointed to the ground in front of her.  “Take your shinai and draw a circle in the sand around you.” 

She made the circle and when she returned to the front to face him again, he motioned to her to raise her practice sword.  He pointed to the circle and spoke.  “This is your house.  You control what happens in your house.  If someone comes into your house, you have the advantage because you know where everything is.  This is your field of battle and when the enemy comes onto your field, you will have the advantage.”

The young student looked down at the circle that she had made in the sand.  Suddenly, Sensei struck her shinai, making her cry out as it flew from her hands.

She knelt to pick it up, but he stopped her with a tap on her arm with his bokken.  “No,” he said firmly.

“But I-,” she started.

“No,” he repeated. 

Emma stayed kneeling, perplexed as he waited patiently.  “Sensei, what do I do?  I’ve lost my weapon.”
He bent down and spoke to her softly, “Emma-san, YOU are the weapon.  The knife, the sword, the gun, those are tools.  YOU are the weapon.”  He let that sink in and then said, “Now use your finger and draw another circle around you, as far as you can reach without stretching.” 

She turned in a slow circle and did as he had commanded.  When she was finished, he motioned for her to stand.  He pointed at the small circle where she stood, then looked her in the eye.  “This is your house.”  He paused, waiting for the lesson to sink in.

Emma looked at him and repeated, “This is my house.” He was quiet and watched her carefully.  It took her a moment, but then she understood.  “This is my house.  I control what happens in my house.”

Sensei nodded and gestured with his hand.  “Now, kata.”

Emma began the familiar movements of the martial arts form, saying softly to herself, “This is my house, this is my house…”  She paused for a moment and said, “Sensei, how do you say-”

“Kore ga watashinoiedesu,” he intoned.

 

Later in the afternoon after practice, Emma was walking through the residence when she spotted Master Sasaki sitting on the engawa, the wooden floored area surrounding the meditation garden.  After pausing for a moment, she approached him to ask him a question.  “Sensei?”  Emma took a seat next to her teacher.

“Yes, Emma-san.”

“Why do we practice kendo?  People don’t use swords for fighting that much anymore.”

Sensei glanced over at her, recognizing her growing maturity.  “This is true.  If not for the sword fighting, it must be for something else.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

He nodded, staring out into the garden.  “Hai.  Strong body, strong mind, strong character.”

Emma pursed her lips and murmured, “It IS a workout…”

Sensei grunted in assent, “It is discipline and focus, as well.”  They sat together in silence for a few minutes until he spoke quietly, “Mushin.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she searched her memory, “Mushin, Sensei?”

He answered, “It is ‘the mind of no-mind’.  It is when the body and the mind act as one, without thinking, by instinct.”

Her face lit up, “Like when we do kata?”

“Hai,” he replied.  “When you learn things, it stays in your head, and after a while, things pile up and get in the way when you think.  So you make those things a part of you, not something that takes up space in your head.”  Emma nodded, taking it all in.  Sensei continued, “If you think about trying to block a strike, or think about trying to move, the thinking part will slow you down or make it impossible to move.  So, as one master said, ‘There is no try, only do.’”

Emma squinted her eyes at her teacher, “Master Sasaki, it was Yoda who said that.”

A slight smile crossed Sensei’s face, “He was a very wise man…”

 

By the time she was 12, Emma attained her black belt in Tae Kwon Do.

Two weeks after her 13^th birthday, she received her black belt in Aikido, and when she was 14, she had her black belt in Kendo.

At the tender age of 15, Emma began combat training.