The Warrior Seven - Jet

1

Jet looked at himself in the mirror. Black hair streaked with white, hence the nickname 'Badger.' Pretty average in any other way, apart from the fact that he always wore sunglasses. So why was he worried about himself?

Jet sighed and turned away. He picked up a pair of socks from the floor and surveyed them closely. Deciding that they weren't clean, he burnt them and blew the ashes out of the window. Jet smiled sadly. A week ago he wouldn't be confined to his room burning laundry, he would have been out with his friends on his bike. But that was before it happened.

Jet hadn't realised what was going on at first. A gang of boys cornered him in the schoolyard, punching and kicking him. A taller, older boy walked over and stopped them but that was just so that he could kick Jet in the ribs instead. The older boy smiled cruelly.

"Well well well, what have we here?" the boy asked slowly. His three cronies laughed dumbly. Jet winced as he sat up on his elbow.

"Leave me alone, Jackson," Jet sighed. Jackson scowled and kicked Jet again. The injured boy collapsed back onto the floor.

"Please, call me Jack, Badger," Jackson said. Jet raised an eyebrow whilst subtly wriggling out of kicking distance.

"What, not Jackie? You don't tell your mom to call you Jack, do you?" Jet said in a carefree way. He was actually watching Jackson warily because at a glance his cronies could move in and Jet would be history.

"Leave my mother out of this, Badger. It's not as if you have one," Jackson snarled. Jet scrambled to his feet and braced himself for an attack. It was a good thing that he did, for a second later Jackson lunged and Jet was once again on the floor.

It was just after that it happened. Jet hadn't wanted to actually hurt Jackson, just put him out of action for a while. But Jet had no such luck.

A crowd had gathered, chanting "Fight, fight, fight!" None of them had been prepared for what happened next.

Jackson rammed a fist into Jet's face, knocking off his sunglasses. Jet swore and kicked out, wincing again as his ribs moved sharply. Jackson flew backwards, thrown back into the fight by the crowd. Jet could see some teachers at the edge of the crowd, discussing whether or not to intervene. Jet hoped that they'd decide against it; this was the chance he'd been waiting for.

"Ain't you gonna fight anymore, Badger?" Jackson asked breathlessly. He wiped blood from his mouth and walked forwards slowly. A glimmer of silver showed Jet all he needed to know.

Jet bent down cautiously and picked up his sunglasses. After checking to see if they were broken, (they were) Jet turned to Jackson. A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"You broke my shades," Jet said. He tried not to show how angry he was but failed. A dangerous smile spread across his face. "You'll pay for that."

"Oh really, Badger?" Jackson sneered. He pulled the knife from his pocket and Jet was alarmed to see that it wasn't a flick blade as he'd earlier thought. Damn, Jet thought worriedly. I'm dead.

Jackson sprang for Jet, the knife coming up to throat height. Jet grabbed the other boy's forearm and the knife stopped inches from his throat. Jet smiled and his amber eyes glowed, locking Jackson in a gaze that neither could break.

Beads of sweat stood out on Jackson's forehead. The knife dropped to the floor and Jet turned away, blinking. That had used more effort than he'd thought.

"What... what the hell did you do?" Jackson whispered. He backed away, pulling another knife from his pocket as he went. Jet didn't notice the extra blade until it hit him in the shoulder. He hissed in pain and lunged, sunglasses flying from his hand. Jackson stumbled backwards, Jet's hands wrapped around his throat. The latter let his mind drift but kept the other boy in a strong grip that Jackson couldn't break.