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DRIVING POWER FROM MY STANCE, I curled my fingers into my sweat-ridden palms, forcing my fist towards the punching bag in front of me. The impact left the woman holding it steady to slightly falter, before regaining her balance.
"Good," Rosita said, leaning her head. "again."
I ran my index finger across the surface of my thumb, inhaling sharply. We'd been at this for what felt like hours. My hands ached, though, I was the one who asked for her help. After witnessing the punch Glenn had dealt to Aiden, I knew learning the self-defense move properly was in my best interest. Of course, there was no person I'd rather ask than the one who I was told taught him to perform such an act - Rosita Espinosa.
In a way, we mirrored each other. I couldn't be sure of how; or even why it felt this way. I had spoken to her on multiple occasions, but most commonly, in the presence of others. With just the two of us in this small garage, a bag filled with sand strung up to hit against; I learned more about her than I'd originally caught onto. She was strong, intimidatingly. Only a few members of the group had the kind of front to display this. Such as, Rick. Abraham. Something about them. The main thing they shared, being that they weren't frightened to be the bad guy, if that was what it took. To hurt, to kill. That took a strength that not even I could muster at times.
Four.
I had claimed four lives between my father, my dying sister, and the two raiders we had run into twice on the road to Terminus; but not without hesitation or regret. Thinking about having such power as to end a life, was an extremely large pill to swallow. I was capable of granting death upon someone, as if I held the wrath of a reaper.
"Okay." I replied, swinging my arms out to warm them.
I kept my eyes on the bag, my feet grounding. With her nod, in one steady motion I pivoted back, careful not to pull my shoulder too far along with me, then delivered the punch. Rosita let go, moving into view again.
