Antumbra - A Lost Cause

War Within the Borders - Chapter Forty Six

Elia wrapped the bands tightly, just like she'd been shown. Silva did the same, but took longer due to the size of his hands. It was tedious preparation, and they were both eager to start training as soon as possible. Elia watched the TV mounted to the corner of the room as she got ready. It was left tuned to the news at all times so they could keep track of the protests. Though that had become a misnomer at this point. They were battles now. Bloody battles in an all out war. What started as small riots between pro and anti Hybrid groups quickly spiraled out of control. Humans who supported Hybrids were being targeted by gangs of 'HRF' members. The Human Rights First movement had started as a group to put pressure on city officials and the government to cut off resources to the Lows in order to focus on aid in the city as the Umbras grew in frequency, and while they were successful in stopping things like the food trucks from getting in or scrap dealers getting out, the government refused to budge on the utilities.

That's where things got ugly, and so Elia found herself here, in her uncle's old gym. Once it was used for community activities, like a rec center, but as no one wanted to leave home, now it was a base of operations for her and other Hybrids who had enough. They didn't give themselves a name, but Hybrids from all over the Lows had decided it was time to push back. Aside from teaching each other how to fight, they planned operations to counteract HRF attacks. They also planned assaults of their own, though Elia had mixed opinions on them. Silva didn't, however, and so he and Elia often clashed only to eventually compromise. Still, he was the only one who'd stayed by her side this whole time, and that meant something to her.

"Stephan said he'd be here by three," Silva said as he started boxing the air to warm up, "he better not be late. Mom already wonders where I'm going, if I start coming home late she'll kick my ass and then ground what's left."

"He'll show," Elia said as she limbered up her arms, "he hasn't missed a session yet." Her hands were wrapped tight, and she flexed her fingers as she walked towards the punching bag that hung from the wall. She brought her fists up and steadied herself, striking it with her right fist, then left, and so-on.

"I told ya," a hoarse voice came from the entrance behind them, and Elia turned to see Stephan dropping his duffel bag on the bench, "you can't throw punches like that with your arms."

"Took you long enough," Silva said as Stephan gave him a shrug. The older Hybrid was fairly short for a man, not much taller than Elia, but brawny. He had uneven clumps of large scale-like growths on his head and torso, and his hands were not properly formed, almost set in a permanent crook shape. He used these aspects of himself to become a better fighter in his rebellious youth, yet he was one of the kindest and gentlest people Elia knew. That, however, wasn't the side of him she wanted to see today.

"Remember," he said, standing next to her and lifting her arm, "keep your arms parallel, or they'll buckle when you hit. You want the most force from your punches, keep 'em high."

"High," Elia repeated, and struck the bag again, this time using his way. Her punch landed with more force, and she quickly threw another one, and then a quick flurry of blows after that. Her double-jointed arms meant her punches lost twice as much of the impact, but could spring out twice as fast for half the effort. So Stephan taught her that if one punch wouldn't do, she should try ten, or twenty. So she did, and in a short while Elia learned to rapidly unleash a cluster of quick hits. Her only problem was fighting the urge to strike from below, where her arms naturally wanted to hang.

"Much better!" Stephan said with applause, and Elia took a moment to wipe a bead of sweat from her brow. She felt proud of the progress they had both made.

"Wanna see something really cool?" Silva said, cracking his oversized knuckles as he approached the two. He reared back with his fist, almost cartoonishly, then threw it forward. He struck the sandbag with such force it practically became parallel with the floor, forcing everyone to move back as it swung back erratically.