The Hive

5

A month went by. Three games down, all wins.

Afternoon practice had just ended and Joan was trying to nap. Wally climbed into her bed, tucked under her arm as she drifted off.

Sasha has other plans, throwing open the door. She saw them and quickly shut it. "Sorry! I just-" "Come in." She did, shutting the door behind her with the goofiest smile on her face, "Michelle just spilled pancake batter all over the floor and, and-" she grabbed the wall to steady herself as she laughed uncontrollably, "and then fucking Isaac slipped in it and pulled Jana down with him. So now," she fell into another fit of laughter and Wally couldn't help but smile as well, "so now all three of them are covered in batter and a whole batter fight broke out when Michelle flung batter at Lars and, and," "Quiet down, I'll be out in a minute."

She dressed quickly, stealing one of Joan's hoodies, a little big on her. She walked out into the hall and felt a hand on her shoulder, she froze, gripping the knife on her thigh, "My office. Now." It wasn't angry. Then again Coach was rarely angry, she was simply indifferent. She knew this order though. She followed her to the office and sat in the chair, back straight, staring at the picture on her desk.

"This is Xavier- you don't care about that. He's coming here today, thinking he's been recruited but we have reason to believe he works with a rival of my family. I assume you can take care of him within the weekend?"

Wally pulled the picture off the desk, the boy was older, maybe a junior. He sported the sporty beginnings of a beard and a smile.

"How do you want it done?"
"Quickly. Quietly. Leave him in the chute and forget about it. Forty thousand." Wally set the picture back down and shrugged, "Consider it as good as done."

"Stay...." Natalia mumbled, barely awake. Wally nodded and moved away from the bed, putting on the cheapest clothes she owned, and went out to the hall, up the stairs to the stadium and then to the parking lot as a white slug bug approached. She glanced at the security cameras, none of them blinking red.

She led the man inside, "I think you'll like it here. Goalie, right? I'm a shooter. We'll be playing together those year." She led him down the maintenance room and the laundry room before they arrived at a cleaning closet, all the supplies removed and the walls covered in tarps.

"All the dorms are full as of right now. Big line up this year, we had to put you in one of the back rooms but rest assured you'll be upgraded to a proper dorm later," she pulled open the door and shoved him inside as she drew a knife from her sleeve, stabbing him in the thigh. A bullet tore a hole in the door. She didn't waste anytime looking at it, instead looking down the barrel of the little pistol the man had as he held his bleeding thigh.

"Did you really think I'd come all the way here and be greeted by the Carver's daughter without a weapon? Pathetic. Now back up,"

She did, all the way out of the room as she kicked the door shut with her foot, holding it shut with her left hand as he ran out of bullets. She flipped open her phone and called Coach.

"He's got a gun." She said as she started down the hall, an automatic weapon beneath her arm. She handed it to Wally, she didn't much like guns but she held the door shut with one foot and emptied the entire magazine into the closet. She waited for a moment to open it, Coach watched expectantly as she dropped the gun, taking her knife once more.

He was filled with bullet holes. Gun limp
In his hands. She looked at him a moment and tore down the tarp on the back wall where the trash chute was, lifting him up and tossing him down it without a second thought.

"I apologize for the door. But... he was expecting me. Someone out there knows who I am." Coach nodded, "I'm aware. You aren't exactly unrecognizable. But we won't let that happen again. I'll add the thirty to your account. Clean up in here."

She rolled up the tarps and looked at the bullet holes in the wall with a sigh. Not only that but she'd lost ten thousand for it. She moved down to the basement, below the stadium and the Hive, where the boiler room was. Not only that, but the furnace was tucked in the corner. She lifted Xavier into it, rolling him into the fire before she stripped and added the tarps and the bloody cloth to the fire. Coach would take care of the rest. For now, she slid on a big hoodie as she wiped the blood from her face and tried to stop the ringing in her ear. An inch or two left and her right ear would've been toast.

"Where you been?" Joan asked, Alina nudged her, a silent message she accepted. Wally looked at them all playing cards on the floor, another off-day due to Wally's sloppy job. She climbed into Alina's lap, curling up in one of Natalia's sweaters that Joan had been wearing. Alina nodded quietly and leaned to place her card, using one hand to steady Wally who she assumed already knew about the failure. She still ran her fingers through her hair so Wally lay silent against her.

"I asked you to do this quietly and quickly, instead I have to replace a door and there are dents in the concrete of the room. However you did take care of the cleanup so I applaud you on that, but a half done job isn't a good one. You're suspended from group practice and will be tasked with training Sasha."

She glanced down at her in the chair, frozen in place. She quickly nodded and Coach continued.

"She needs extra help. You'll have night practice every night except when the rest of the team is practicing, then you will practice after. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am. I won't fail you again." She nodded, "I'd hope not. Go inform Sasha." Wally quickly left the office, ignoring the tightness in her throat as she stuck her head in Sasha's dorm room. "Meet me at the rink at eight tonight. Dressed."

She didn't give her time to respond, running to Natalia's room where she dove on the bed, burying her head into the pillow. She could feel Natalia's gaze on her and then her fingers on her back, "You okay Hallie...?" She stayed silent and felt the bed shift as she sat down. "Alina told me. I'm sorry. What happened? Are you hurt?"

She ended up retreating to her own room, burying herself in her bed before eight rolled around. She moved up to the rink, changing into her gear in the locker room. Sasha was lying on the bench, tossing a tennis ball up and down.

"Get ready."
"I'm serious."
"Why am I here?"
"Coach's orders. You need extra help. In other words, you're a shit goalie."

She groaned and rolled off the bench, disappearing into the locker room as Wally got on the ice, carrying five buckets of balls and then pulling the door closed, though it wouldn't latch without someone on the outside doing it. She started skating circles around the edge, twisting her racquet in her hands as Sasha stepped onto the ice.

"Get in the goal. We're going to be here until you block every shot." "But-" she picked up a ball and slammed it into the goal, it lit up red and Sasha watched it roll back out. She grumbled something about bullshit and skated over to the goal with her giant racquet.

She got three of the fifty the first time. She tossed those to the side, letting them roll away as she fired continuously at the goal, she got two more.

"You're like ten feet from the goal, this isn't fair." "The other team won't care about the distance. But if you insist on whining here." She left the buckets and moved to the opposite half where the used balls lay in various places. She scooped them up one at a time and fired them. The distance created less force and let Sasha see where they were going, but it wasn't guaranteed they'd always be shooting from here. She returned to the buckets, throwing a little slower and she caught nine more, thirty six left.

She picked up the pace with each wave of balls until Sasha began picking up on her habits. She aimed for corners. It stretched the goalie out. She changed it up, aiming for her legs and her sides. She finally managed to get them all around eleven.

"That was awful." "Be better." Sasha scoffed. Wally couldn't see the look on her face because of the row of lockers between them but she assumed she didn't look pleased. They'd showered and would head back downstairs. Sasha would do it all again at seven am.

"Why so grouchy today? And why weren't you at practice?" She shook out her arm, "I fucked my arm up. I'll be back soon."

"Then why are you-"
"If you asked less questions you probably wouldn't be getting the shit beat out if you every other day."