When the Hunt Goes Sideways
Two weeks into my first semester, I got a piece of advice about Cara Chomski that would prove more accurate than I realized: she's frighteningly competent—at everything.
That warning came back to me when I drew an enforcement contract for Assassins, the campus game where players hunt each other with mock weapons. My target: Cara, who had gone inactive for 72 hours. The clock was ticking.
First Contact
Decked out in my trenchcoat and borrowed sunglasses, I tracked Cara to the practice rooms beneath the concert hall. What I didn't know was that each practice room has two doors—a detail that cost me the element of surprise.
I knocked on the first door and waited. As it swung open, Cara emerged from the second entrance behind me. I sprinted for the other door, but she slammed it shut and locked it before I could reach it. Defeated, I retreated to do homework and plan a better approach.
Second Round: Improvised Defense
An hour later, I came back better equipped—a cardboard sword instead of a knife. I could hear Cara practicing piano inside. I waited for the song to finish, then threw the door open.
Cara sprang to her feet as I swung toward her stomach. She parried with her sheet music, then produced a coat hanger from nowhere. I pressed her into a corner and kept swinging, but she deflected every blow. When I moved in for what should have been the final strike, she dodged inside my reach and stabbed me—with the plastic coat hanger.
I tip my hat to Cara for fending off an enforcer using only sheet music as a shield and a coat hanger as a blade. Frighteningly competent, indeed.
