Fiction Friday: Old Times 2.9

Previously:
0.1
1.0
1.1
1.2
1.3
1.4
2.0
2.1
2.2
2.3
2.4
2.5
2.6
2.7

2.8
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My reflexes are superhuman from the implants embedded into my skull that interface with various mental functions and enhance them. But my body is not. It is distinctly average in its capabilities, albeit in decent shape these days since I got clean. I could think and react fast but move no faster than your average person.

My opponent appeared to have implants of her own judging by her reflexes, probably not as comprehensive and powerful as mine but just a few small implants can increase action/reaction time considerably. But more disconcerting was her physical speed which could only be described as terrifying. Her arms and hands whirred in their slices and thrusts, no motion wasted, no target missed. It took all of my knife defense skills just to narrowly avoid getting cut as she advanced. 

I considered trying to counter with my blade edge one of her attacks but threw that idea away, figuring that it was unlikely to catch her arm successfully and if it missed I would be sliced to the bone on my arm and made defenseless. But I was running out of space in the apartment in which to back into. And she knew it; on her face was the look of someone who knew they were going to win. Not gloating, but confident. This was no bumbling amateur like her compatriot, but a professional killer who saw that she had the upper hand.

I backed up one more step and hit the wall. With no more room to run I tried to move laterally but she was faster. Just then I saw a shadow moving behind her; Jax had overcome the pain of the molten metal on his leg and got to his feet, broken chair leg in hand. He rushed at her from behind with improvised weapon poised to strike. She heard him coming and pivoting with lightning speed to duck the swing and drive her knee into his groin. Jax bent over and fell backwards with a pained "omph".

But it was all the opening I needed. Just as her knee struck Jax I struck with the knife, slashing her left upper arm. She cursed and stepped back but I kept going knowing I had only this one chance. I slashed again but she had twisted back to face me and blocked with her knife (she's so fast!), however I followed up with a step and threw my left fist in a strike to her face. She ducked her head but not quite fast enough and I clipped her forehead. She peddled backwards and I continued to drive forward crashing into her.

I felt sharp pain blossom in my left forearm as her knife cut a gash two inches long as we collided and went down, but she missed grabbing my right wrist and I drove my point into her side below her rib cage and the upwards. She was small and the knife long.

I rolled over her and struggled to my feet expecting her launch another attack but I needn't had worried. She stayed on the floor with shaking hand clutching her side as her life spilled out.

I turned to Jax and gave him a hand to get up. "Come on, we got to go now!"