A Little Bit Ninja

32: Minivan Escape Artists

 A/N: Mini disclosure statement- I'm just so excited to finally post this that there might be some errors still in it. If you spot some, just tell me kindly in the comments where the offense is, so I can fix it. Thanks my little proofreaders.

Millie jumped out of the open van with what appeared to be an economy size canister of pepper spray.  The girl wielded it like an expert markswoman, nailing him in the eyes from three feet away. But she didn’t stop there. No, once he he’d gone from holding my ankle to staggering through the street squeezing his eyes closed, she ran toward him and gave him the most beautiful jump kick to the solar plexus, I’d ever seen done in purple, suede platforms. 

Yeah, it was the only jump kick I’d ever seen by someone in purple, suede platforms, but it just added so much finesse. I wanted to try it.

“Back off buddy, or your chances of future reproduction will be zero!”

And then she punched him in the neck—probably because that’s as high as she could hit with any noticeable effect—before she sprinted back to the van, grabbing me along the way, and yanked the door closed behind her.  

“Go!” she screamed at Landon when he made no move to stop staring at her with his mouth agape.

Chapter 32: Part 1- Minivan Escape Artists

The rest of us were staring at her the same way Landon was, but the designated driver of the getaway vehicle was not allowed the luxury of gaping at the Latina Wonder Girl.

“Hellooooo! I said go!” Millie repeated.

Her breath still came in ragged gasps from her run in with the mobster in the street. With eyes flitting from face to face, she searched for something in our eyes, lucidity probably, that she didn’t find.

Finally she let loose a frustrated grunt, yanking Landon from his seat, and then hopped behind the wheel. After checking the rearview mirror she floored the gas pedal. The tires squealed and smoked even though we barely moved. Apparently the van wasn’t as fast as the rims implied. Its true speed was very much in line with the eighties appearance, and rusted wheel wells.

We picked up momentum, as our creeping became a jog and then a sprint. My brain thawed from the shock of seeing Millie’s ninja mode as the distance between us and the hotel grew. I whipped around to look at the traffic through the back window. No black, stalker-mobiles were visible, and if they were following us, they didn’t make it obvious by tailgating us.

Nobody said anything for at least a minute. It was Landon who broke the silence.

“That was so hot, woman!” he said, finally picking himself off the mini-van floor and buckling into the passenger seat.

Millie’s only response was an eye roll, before she turned back to the road.

“Seriously, Millie,” I said over her shoulder, “Where did you learn that?”

She tossed me a wry grin via the rear view mirror, “I’ve been practicing the dance.”

For five seconds I couldn’t remember what she was talking about. The memories from before the Bieber concert seemed like a different life time all together and it took me a moment to assemble the pieces of dance memories.

“The one Anton and I made up?” I couldn’t help but laugh, “No way! You were amazing. I thought you secretly knew Tae Kwan Do, or something.”

Her responding smile spread across her entire face, showing all her white teeth. She winked at me and then turned her attention back to the road. Millie reached over to the radio—which was a boom box the owner had velcroed to the dashboard—and flipped through stations.