Chapter 7

                                    

                                          


                          
"Carter Simmons, you have fifteen minutes to prepare for combat. Be at the elevator in your room when the time has concluded." The speaker clicked off, and I sighed before pulling myself off the bed. Jane sounded so much more official over the speakers than she did in person. After the speech, everyone had been dismissed back to their rooms. Margaret had bounced right back from the experience, but I had gone straight to bed, still shaken up. I'd fought Supers of all kinds throughout the years, but I'd never been in the presence of such raw power before. He'd only frozen half of the contestants at a time, but he could have easily done all of us and still not even been winded. No amount of training or skill could surmount an obstacle like that. Thank God we wouldn't be facing him in combat. 
                          
            Margaret had already been called for her first fight an hour ago, but she hadn't returned since then. I mostly wanted her to win and continue on, even though a small part of me was hoping she'd lose so I could have the room to myself. That part of me was shrinking with every second I spent with the undead beauty. She certainly didn't act like most other Supers I'd met. Calling her a friend then would have been a stretch, considering I'd only known her for a day, but I wasn't as opposed to the concept as I thought I would be. 
                          
            Shaking the stray thoughts out of my head, I walked over to my duffel bag and began digging around inside to find what I would need for combat. Since they gave us no clue to our opponents, or even how the fight would proceed, an adaptable setup seemed wise. The katana came out first, still safely within its sheath, with a smooth leather strap so that I could carry it across my back. Setting it to the side, I pulled out another blade, this one a short sword that I'd carry in my right hand. My fighting style relied more on agility and speed than brute force, so smaller weapons worked better for the most part. A slightly curved dagger followed and went into my left hand, adding another point of attack, as well as a potential throwing weapon. Finally, I pulled out a short hammer with a thick block of metal for the head. Cutting weapons were all well and good, but having something that was good for blunt force besides my fists was always important. The hammer would go in a specialized loop in my black combat pants, keeping it secure, yet out of the way at my side. My long sleeved shirt was also black, with a thin layer of nano mail woven through the threads. Another invention from NewTech, nano mail stayed light and unnoticeable until struck, then it became rigid and offered a fair amount of protection from fists, bullets, and even slicing. My pants had the same tech woven into them, as well as the short socks I pulled out of the bag. With the nano mail in the socks, the bottoms acted as makeshift shoes while still offering a prime amount of flexibility and support. I spent a few minutes making sure everything was secured properly before I threw my hair into a ponytail and walked over to the elevator. The short sword and dagger were clutched firmly in my hands, and I began to breathe in and out slowly and rhythmically to focus myself.
                          
            "I knew you were a badass at heart. You had the brooding down and everything!" I coughed in surprise and turned back toward the door. Margaret was leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous grin on her face and a small tear across the shoulder of her blouse. 
                          
            "You fought in a miniskirt?" I said incredulously, choosing to ignore her first comment. 
                          
            "Oh of course. You fight against the right kind of guy, give em the old razzle-dazzle, and the fight's practically yours." 
                          
            "I feel like flashing someone in a fight is a bit inefficient," I said with a laugh. 
                          
            "Don't knock it till you try it." She made a show of looking me up and down before saying, "Though with that getup it's probably going to be a process to show enough skin."
                          
            "Aren't old people supposed to be super modest?" I shot back. She stood up straight and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand like she had done earlier.