The Final Showdown - The Moon Trilogy - Book 3

Chapter ten:

Clarity stepped a bit closer to Ellie, her heart dropping.

"You know where he is?" she asked quietly.

"I know where he will be, but I don't think I'll tell right yet." she said coyly, a grin on her face. She might as well have been a cat toying with a mouse.

"Why not? Why would you invite us to this party if you're just going to say things like that?" Clarity demanded in an almost-whisper.

"Maybe I want something in return?" Ellie drawled out.

Why? That was all Clarity had to ask. Why would the girl invite them all to some stupid party just to tell them that she wanted payment? Couldn't she have done that when she was breaking in the other night?

After a second, Ellie lightly tapped her head before murmuring something that wasn't quite clear. The lights suddenly went out throughout the room, leaving the once-brilliant ballroom strangely eerie. After a couple of short-lived screams, silence fell and lasted for a fleeting moment before the windows crashed in.

Ghost-like men in dark clothing dropped through the windows like living shadows, greeted by more screaming as the party guests realized what was happening.

Clarity, too, realized just as the first screams broke out that she would have to take action. Thankfully, she was rather close to the hiding place for the bag of gear, so it wasn't long before she'd changed into her costume.

Wearing it now, in the midst of an actual crisis, she felt the familiar stab of doubt. This was ridiculous... they had no right to be superheroes or vigilantes or anything of the like. She never should have suggested it in the first place.

But it was too late now. She was all geared up and ready to make a fool of herself...

As she ran back towards the rapidly-falling chaos, a fallen champagne flute shattered beneath her foot. She silently thanked her past self for deciding to add the shoes onto her outfit. She'd have been taken out of the fight without ever having been hit if she hadn't.

As soon as she was back in the center of the scene, it was quick work to find the first hostile, and even quicker work to knock him out.

She spun around and locked her sights of the next target.

She concentrated on her movements. Punch in the gut. Kick to the back of the knees. Dodge the flying fist. Kick again. Hard hit to the back of the head, and done.

Clarity could see out of the corners of her eyes that the others were fighting the seemingly endless stream of enemies, as well. They dropped like flies, but appeared in a similar fashion. When one went down, another took his place.

Before long, she was heaving for breath and getting hit more frequently.

The blows that her opponents managed to land were few and far between, but they made up for their lack of aim by the sheer force they managed to pack behind each punch. Bruises were already forming up and down both arms.

She just barely missed a blow to the side of the head, and she felt a chunk of hair rip out when the fist passed near her temple, snagging her hair in the process.

With everyone helping, the fight actually didn't take as long as Clarity had been expecting, and soon enough, the floor was strewn with broken things and broken men. Apparently, they weren't nearly as trained as they looked.

She would have guessed, at first glance, that they were some sort of tactical team with years of training. Then again, with a team like theirs, even training would be rendered all but useless.