Jioni headed toward an old stop sign; she held the base of it and attempted to shimmy the rusted road sign out of the concrete. Back and forth, she pulled it and would let go. With the last heave, she fell backward with the sign in her hands. Jioni tossed it, stood up, grabbed it again, and came charging.
LaMesha’s knuckles were sore. She still punched with her nondominant left hand, which the Tenebris restricted. She kept hitting the monster right up to the point where Jioni smacked it with the stop sign twice—it then let go of her, and LaMesha hit the ground.
LaMesha stood up and grabbed the stop sign from Jioni; she took over and, with a single hit, left its crystals.
She huffed; her eyebrows lowered with the stop sign white-knuckled. LaMesha’s eyes darted until it met with Jioni. her body burned hot with anger, but cooled in relief.
“Where is your weapon?” LaMesha snapped. “Did you even bring one?”
Jioni’s eyes fell. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I forgot my satchel.”
“Satchel? Junior lances can’t fit in a satchel.”
There was silence.
“I don’t have a Junior lance,” Jioni replied.
LaMesha bit her tongue and threw the stop sign back into the street—metal clinked on the pavement. After she stretched her fingers, she walked towards her revolver; surprisingly, Jioni followed close by.
