Killer Calories

graze the top of her hair.
    A figure, slightly blacker than the blackness around her, came into focus before her. Her startled mind went on hold as her karate training took over. Sure, she still had the Beretta tucked in her waistband, but there was no point in using it... unless it was necessary.
    Taking a half step back, she braced herself, and delivered a side kick to the figure’s midsection.
    She heard a sick, gagging gasp as her assailant fought for breath.
    Good luck, she thought. That had been an effective one. She had felt the shock reverberate through every muscle and nerve in her body.
    To make certain she had completed the job, she gave another kick slightly higher. Again, contact was made... nice and solid, just as she had intended.
    Her attacker groaned, fell backward, and crashed on the dried leaves beneath the tree, sounding as though they were thrashing about in a bowl of crispy breakfast cereal.
    “Mess with me, will ya ?” she said. “I’ll tie your tally- whacker in a Windsor knot and see how you like it.”
    Her assailant didn’t reply; she didn’t think they were capable, which was fine with her. But she heard him—or her— struggle to their feet and stagger away, taking that shortest-between-two-points, thistle-infested trail which she had deliberately avoided earlier.
    “Hmmm... decided not to stick around for seconds,” she replied, feeling the adrenaline hit her knees and turn them to mush, now that the immediate danger had passed.
    She took one step forward, stepped on something round and cylindrical, and her right foot shot out from under her. Landing in the crispy leaves—where her attacker had just been floundering—she sat there on her aching butt, feeling stupid and clumsy.
    So much for agility. So much for grace. So much for being a martial-arts expert.
    Beneath her calf, she could feel the round, hard object that had caused her downfall. As her fingers closed around it» doing a tactile examination, she began to laugh.
    “Why, thanks,” she said. “How very accommodating of you.”
    Her fingertip found the switch on the side of the object and flipped it. A cone of light appeared in the darkness, illuminating the path before her. She pointed the beam down the hill, but her opponent appeared to be long gone.
    “Much better than a fallen avocado or a dish of guacamole any day,” she said, giving the light a twirl like a cheerleader’s baton.
    Of course, there was that bag of chips she had smuggled into her room after her foray into the “real world” to see Dirk. They really could use some sort of dip.
    Shining her newly acquired flashlight up into the tree, she checked the fruit until she found a couple that were nice and ripe.
    As she headed down the trail—which she could now see clearly, thanks to her unknown combatant—she decided that she could have her flashlight, her chips, and guacamole—and eat them, too.

    “Where have you been?” Tammy grabbed Savannah by the forearm and dragged her into their room. “I’ve been worried sick about you! First, you don’t show up for lunch, then you miss dinner, too! I’ve never known you to skip a meal, let alone two in a row.”
    “Thanks a lot,” Savannah replied dryly as she walked over to the bed, sat down, and began to slip out of her sneakers ^d socks. “I skip a lot of meals. Now between-meal snacks... that’s a different story.”
    “Anyway, I’m glad you’re finally back. I have something extremely cool to show you.”
    “ ‘Extremely cool’? Oh, Tammy, you’ve been in California too long. What would your New York family think of your vocabulary... or lack of one?”
    Tammy gave her a dirty look. “Okay, Georgia girl... I have something to show you that’s hotter than a Waynesboro cotton field at high noon. Is that better?”
    Savannah returned the look. “Just show me what you’ve got, kid, before I clean your clock. I’ve done it once tonight, and I’m up to another round.”
    “What?”
    “Never mind. What is it?”
    “This.” Proudly, Tammy thrust a beige envelope into her face. “Somebody slid it under our door while we were out. It’s addressed to you, so I didn’t open it.”
    Savannah studied the envelope, which bore a striking resemblance to the one in her mailbox that had contained all the cash. She also examined the somewhat puckered, ever-so-slightly damp seal. “What does it say?” she asked.
    Tammy’s mouth opened and closed a few times and her eyes bugged a