Raven
Book 2 of the Phoenix Saga
Addison Kline
For the lost boys.
Chapter One
South End Recreation Center
South End, PA
July 14, 1996
Sometimes, when life throws a one-two punch at you, you have to hit back.
I've always been a fighter. I grew up in the school of Hard Knocks, and lesson number one is learning how to fight, Alanna Anderson thought as she sparred. Strong by necessity. Smart by design. It's not how hard you hit. The only thing that matters is how many times you get up, keep getting up. Can you take a hit? Great. You better know how to dish it out, too. Especially 'round here. Put up your dukes. Spar. Swat. Kick. Punch. Move your legs. Head down, fists up. Protect your chest. Guard your heart. Keep moving. As the punches come, throw a few back. Upper cut. Rib hits. Dance, baby dance. Never go down without a fight. You can tell me I fight like a girl. You're Goddamn right I do. A smart girl. In South End, book smarts aren't enough. You gotta have street smarts if you hope to make it out alive. You can't ever let anyone see you sweat. Let's see who the last one standing is. Go ahead, wear yourself out. Try to catch me. Try to touch me. I'm a moving target. I'm two moves ahead of you. Keep moving. Keep sweating me. Swiping at an invisible foe. Tire yourself out. Heave with exhaustion. My energy's on reserve.... And then when you're ready to drop to your knees... BAM! That's when my fight comes out... and trust me when I say, you're not gonna know what hit you. So go, ahead. Come at me. Give me your worst... but you better prepared, because I'm coming at you with everything I've got.
"C'mon Lana!" Peck urged with a sharp bite to his voice. "Pick it up!"
Alanna wore a look of fierce determination in her eyes as she sparred with the punching bag. Her hair was piled high atop her head and her cheeks flushed pink from the workout. She swatted at the bag with ferocious tenacity. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she hit the bag over and over again with her gloved hand. Peck stood behind the bag, holding it tightly in his grasp as he urged Alanna to hit harder, move faster, fight smarter. Delivering a final blow, Alanna's glove collided with the bag as Peck fell back onto the floor from the force of the hit.
"Now, that's what I'm talking about!" Peck exclaimed as he looked up at Alanna from the floor with a look of surprise permeating from his eyes. "Shit! Knocked me the hell over..." Peck complained as he looked at Cris with a wide-eyed expression. Cris raised his eyebrows as a pleased look formed on his face.
Alanna laughed as she pulled her glove off of her hand. Leaning down, she offered to Peck to help him up. "Sorry, Peck," Alanna said with a smile.
Peck bypassed her hand and helped himself back to his feet. "Nice hit," Peck said as he rose to his feet.
"Very," Cris cosigned, sounding impressed. "Again. Do it again."
Flicking on the radio, Cris gave Alanna some music to bout to. Leaning against the concrete wall, Cris eyed Alanna carefully. Her thin limbs were slowly building up. With Peck training her, Alanna's muscle tone was redefining, and her core strength was skyrocketing. Her frail figure from months of bed rest was now just a memory to Cris. Looking at Alanna now, he was relieved that she was now sporting a much healthier physique. As Alanna moved about, sparring with the punching bag, Cris could see that she had returned to her full strength and then some.
