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The First Full Moon
The moon was a round, bright shape on the sky and the fights were brimming.
Val wrapped leather straps over her knuckles over and over, scanning the crowds, pin pointing possible opponents that would rise up. There was the guy whose jaw she broke last week; and the girl who had lost to Val three times in a row. Val braced herself, finishing tying the straps – tonight, half the room was out to kill her. She wasn’t going to let that happen – she never did. She stood from where she sat on one of the overturned crates on the damp floor of the underground fighting space, fashioned in one of the old train stations under the city. People sat on anything and everything they could get their hands on – many stood. The fighting pit was literally the track space between the two platforms, no longer under electricity. Sometimes it got flooded and you had to fight in disgusting, ankle-deep muck – now the tracks were relatively dry but treacherous all the same.
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