Read Deadland: Untold Stories of Alice in Deadland (Alice, No. 5) for Free Online

played a role in it. But so did the fact that
he was Jones' son, and so thought that he could kick anyone's ass. To compound
his delusions of machismo, he had shot a Biter they had stumbled onto on his
last patrol. It was whispered that there were four adults with him and they
took out the Biter, and all Junior did was to fire a bullet that hit the Biter
somewhere in the leg, but those were all unnecessary details he didn't get
into. Take all of that together, and you had a kid who spelt nothing but
trouble for those smaller and weaker than him.
    'So, Blondie. Why is that you get a nice house in the middle
of the settlement just because your Dad thinks he's the big shot?'
    Alice looked at him, a hard glint in her eyes. Nobody messed
with her Dad and got away with it. 'Why is it that you don't even have a name
of your own and are just called Jones Junior? Did your Dad think you were too
ugly to be given a name?'
    The problem with Alice was that she could never keep her
mouth shut.
    Jane shouted something, but all of Alice's attention was
focused on the big boy now making his way towards her, his hands clenched into
fists.
    'I'll teach you a lesson, you yellow-haired witch!'
    Alice remembered what she had heard Jones say in one of the
many classes she had watched surreptitiously.
    Don't watch the fist. Watch the shoulder.
    Even before Junior had started his punch, Alice knew what
was coming from the way his right shoulder rolled back. She remembered the
morning's lesson and moved in, turning her right shoulder in and planting her
left foot as firmly as she could. As Junior's right hand swept out to deliver
his blow, Alice struck with her right leg, aiming behind the knee just as Jones
had taught.
    The shock of being attacked by a little girl so much smaller
than him probably did Junior in more than the actual force of the kick Alice
landed. He stumbled back and fell in an ungainly heap on the ground.
    'I'll...'
    Before he could complete his threat, a deep voice boomed
out.
    'Junior, get your ass back here!'
    Junior got up, glaring at Alice as he ran towards his
father. Jane was now shouting at Alice. 'What's wrong with you? Why do you keep
asking for trouble? Couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?'
    Alice ignored her sister. She would never understand. She
would never know how important it was to stand up for yourself, even if you got
the crap beaten out of you. Alice planted her last cup and got up to see the
elder Jones standing there, watching her intently. She thought she saw a smile
forming at the corner of his lips.
     
    ***
     
    'Bob, we need to talk about Alice.'
    Gladwell suppressed a smile. This was a familiar
conversation starter between him and Jo, and one which invariably had an
unhappy ending. It was all too familiar—Alice had gone and got herself into
some trouble again. Gladwell would say that she was just spirited, Jo would ask
why she couldn't be more like Jane, and the conversation would then rapidly spiral
downwards.
    'What happened, Jo?'
    'She hit Junior. His mom came and told me.'
    This time, Gladwell couldn't stop the laughter. 'That boy is
a bully. If Alice put him on his ass, good for her, and he's a sissy if he's
going and complaining to his mom about being beaten by a girl smaller than
him.'
    Jo exhaled loudly, trying hard to stop this from becoming
another argument.
    'Bob, she's getting out of control, and you just indulge
her. When Jane was growing up...'
    Gladwell walked up to her and kissed her on the forehead, a
gesture that totally disarmed Jo.
    'Sweetheart, when Jane was growing up, we had a proper house,
we lived in a civilized world, not one where you have undead Biters roaming
around looking to rip you apart. What kind of world is Alice growing up in?
What has she seen and heard in the first years of her life? I think we need to
cut her some slack—the old rules don't apply any more, and certainly they don't
apply for how kids are growing up.'
    Jo let it drop for now, and Gladwell