While some women stretched, others practiced defense moves one-on-one. Zo? made a beeline for BOB. BOB was a sparring dummy consisting of a life-size head and torso made of plastic and foam, sticking out of a post. BOB stood with his semifeatureless face staring blankly at her. This was how she saw her abductor. The drugs he had dosed her with had reduced a positive ID to a less-than-defined face that could have belonged to anyone. That piece of shit had done that to her. He’d done worse to Holli and now to this dead woman. How dare he do this to anyone? How dare he ruin her life? There’d been things she’d wanted to accomplish, and he’d wiped them all away. Her hopes and dreams had ended in that desert. Now she was left to live this half life because of him. Well, fuck him. She drove the heel of a palm into the underside of BOB’s chin, jerking the dummy back on its post. When the punching bag rocked forward again, she drove the heel of her hand into its nose. It deflated and reinflated. In real life, the nose would have splintered, with a satisfying crunch.
She worked the dummy using a combination called ichi roku. First, she drove a vertical fist to BOB’s solar plexus. Using the momentum of her body and her close quarters to the dummy, she slid her arm across its chest and drove an elbow into the same point on BOB’s solar plexus. This brought her close to BOB, so close she could smell its funky rubber smell. She turned her body and chopped it across the neck with the same hand. It was a nice little move that took only a couple of seconds to deliver but would disable most attackers.
She repeated the combination again and again, each time a little faster than the time before. With speed came elaboration. The four-point combination became five, six, seven, eight, and more, with the inclusion of a palm strike to the underside of the dummy’s jaw, a haymaker to the side of the head, rabbit punches to the gut, and a knee drive to the rib cage. Keeping her guard up as Karen had taught her, she pounded all of BOB’s vulnerable points. BOB recovered from them all. A real man wouldn’t have. He’d be in an ER.
“OK, ladies, let’s get started.”
As Zo? left BOB and crossed to the center of the studio, she noticed Karen watching her.
This was an intermediate class, with most of the women in training for over a year. Zo? had been coming to The Female Warrior just short of twelve months, although she’d advanced further than many of the women who’d been there longer.
Regardless of the class level, Karen started it the same way, with ten minutes of stretches and lunges that helped warm up the body and unknot muscles. She followed with self-kumite, or self-fighting, where everyone essentially shadow sparred with an invisible foe, using strikes and counterstrikes. This warm-up reinforced the basics until they became muscle memory.
Zo? went through the drills. She didn’t like her performance tonight. It was unfocused and clumsy. She wasn’t in the zone. She blamed Lara Finz for undermining her focus.
At the top of the hour, Karen had everyone circle around her. “OK, ladies. Over the last few weeks, we’ve been practicing scenarios involving attacks from behind. Tonight, we’re going to look at a move that deals with an oncoming, charging attack. Jennifer, can you give me a hand with this one?”
Jennifer nodded and stepped forward.
By all accounts, Jennifer was a long-time attendee of Karen’s classes, so Zo? knew this had to be a tough combination.
“OK, Jen, freeze for me in a charging attack.”
Jennifer stood in a wide stride, as if running with her arm raised.
Karen stood to one side and simulated a side kick to Jennifer’s knee in a stomping fashion. Jennifer feigned collapsing to a knee. Karen followed this with double palm heels to Jennifer’s nose. She ended the move by turning again to deliver a second side kick to the same knee using her trailing leg. Karen demonstrated again, this time with movement. Jennifer attacked in slow motion, and Karen repeated the three-point technique to show its fluidity. She performed it several more times, each time with a little more speed and with a few options thrown in.
“Done right, I guarantee that your attacker will be coming away with a busted knee and broken nose. OK, does everyone see how this combo works?”
Karen received a round of yeses.
“Good. Now, pair up and let’s see how everyone does.”
Zo? partnered with a woman she knew only as Monica. Monica had been coming to the studio a little longer than Zo?, but Zo? knew little about the woman other than that she’d been mugged a couple of years earlier.
“What do you want to do first—attack or defend?” Monica asked.
“You choose.”
“I’ll defend. I want to try this move out.”
Zo? nodded and took up an attacking position, albeit a static one. Just as Karen had demonstrated, Monica followed the steps as Karen called them out. Monica repeated the combination until she’d gotten a handle on Karen’s new combo.
“OK, let’s try this for real,” Monica said.
Zo? made a slow-motion lunge at Monica. She followed the three-step move, dropping Zo? to the mat, then made several more attempts with the same result.
Karen moved from pair to pair, providing assistance. She stopped to survey Zo? and Monica’s progress. She gave Monica a couple of pointers and had Zo? go at Monica with more speed than before. The end result was the same. Zo? ended up on the mat. Zo? knew, as the attacker, she was the fall guy, but she wasn’t making for a worthy opponent. She should have at least made it a challenge for Monica. Her head wasn’t in the game tonight.
Lara Finz had deceived her so easily. It made a mockery of everything she did in this class. She was supposed to keep her guard up at all times, and at the first true test, she’d failed. And the journalist was nothing compared to a real predator. She needed to get her shit together, especially with that son of a bitch in the city.
“I think I’ve got this,” Monica said. “Wanna take the reins now?”