Bulletproof

I rolled sideways, taking position behind one of the nearby pillars in the training room. A good thing I did because of Carolina’s relentless firing. Each one of her shots connected with the concrete wall, some of them blowing away little chunks of the firm material on impact, causing them to fall upon the floor. Thank God the pillar took the brunt of Carolina’s punishment as a section was absolutely covered in splashes of pink-purplish paint. I quickly checked my pistol and made sure I still had enough ammo left. I had slightly less than half paint pellets left – pretty damn surprising considering the fact we’d been at it for the past ten minutes or so.

Within seconds my sister appeared in my line of vision, her back slumping heavily against a column not too far from me.  I noticed with concern that South appeared to be in some kind of pain when she hissed as soon as her hand came into contact with her right forearm. One of the effects of being directly hit is that it stings like a fucking bitch. Also, there was this substance in the paint that turned your armour as hard as a rock. Trust me, trying to move around quickly in that condition is like walking in cement. A few days ago I watched Louisiana’s match against Wash and his arm, having been coated in a bandage of that damn paint, ended up being embedded in a pillar. It was so firmly stuck that with the assistance of Maine, L managed to set free Wash’s limb. I couldn’t help but to feel sorry for the poor guy.

South acknowledged my presence with a brief nod. “Ha, I thought I was the only one chilling out back here. You managed to think of a way to catch Carolina off guard, North?”

“Nope, kiddo. She keeps on forcing me back whenever I try to get within a foot of her,” I explained, recalling my past failures. I shook my head, laughing slightly. “It looks like she’s beginning to step up on her A-game.”

South snorted, the sound very unladylike. Then again she isn’t what you call a proper lady at all in terms of her ballsy demeanour. “What do you mean beginning to? She’s been handing our asses to us throughout the entire training exercises.”

Before I had the chance to openly agree with my twin’s remark, I caught a blur of what seemed to be cyan armour landing on top of the raised platform that I was standing next to. I didn’t have to glance upwards to identify the attacker. Carolina had located our whereabouts, which meant both of us were going to have to deal with the consequences. And man, they was going to be harsh indeed.

“You know, you’re never going to take me down if you’re hiding away like a bunch of cowards,” Carolina said. There was a hint of smugness mixed with mild amusement in her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to give up.”

I didn’t react to her taunting words whatsoever. On the other hand South rose to the bait as I expected as she gave an answering growl. I frowned underneath my helmet, sighing deeply. Even when she was a young kid, South was prone to fierce outbursts of anger when someone pissed her off or when she was challenged. Countless of times I’d been the only person able to calm her down, usually chasing after her just to make sure she didn’t knock someone out in the process.

“Who the hell are you calling cowards, Carolina?” she retorted thickly. “Not everyone is as bulletproof as you!”

I watched as Carolina leapt over me, her body sharply turning in a back flip in a fluid, graceful motion. Her feet touched the ground with a resounding thud, her body posture similar to that of a cat. I sprang into action and took my place beside my own flesh and blood, a clear signal that we, brother and sister, was a strong united front. We made a promise between ourselves to have our backs no matter what.

“Bulletproof, huh? Interesting way of putting it, South.”

Everything ended before we had the opportunity to strike. South was the first to lunge wildly, readying her own handgun to shoot at Carolina. Unfortunately Carolina had lightning fast reflexes, immobilizing South by firing rounds of paint to both her kneecaps. My ears picked up on my sisters’ colourful choice of words, yet none of it registered in my brain. I was too focused on Carolina that I didn’t stop to ask if South was okay.

She deftly deflected my oncoming fist. I then followed it up with a kick, but Carolina pivoted to the side before my foot connected with her hip, the heels of her boots scraping against the ground. That meant she must have used a bit of her speed unit due to the fact she was there one second and gone the next in quick succession. Suddenly a blow to the back of my head rendered me to my knees; I grunted, annoyed with myself. I should have been wiser. I should have planned my next move in advance.

I had to accept the fact that she won and we had lost. Goddammit.

“Round Four: Over. Lockdown Paint Scenario, complete. Point awarded to Carolina. The final score is Agents South Dakota and North Dakota: 2. Agent Carolina: 6.”