Free Camp Alien by Gini Koch Page A

players and mixed martial arts fighters.
    We went down with me on top. She didn’t tuck her head, but said head hitting the ground didn’t even make her blink.She didn’t feel as hard as either Bryce Taylor or Leslie Manning had. She didn’t feel like Sandra the Android, either. I hadn’t fought with either John Butler or Cameron Maurer—though Maurer had held me up in the air with one hand when he was choking me—so I couldn’t compare her to them. But, in my limited experience, she didn’t hurt to hit nearly as badly as the other androids had.
    She smelled of pine, which was a really weird perfume to go with, but who was I to question android perfume choices? Perhaps she’d gotten the special scented oils at her last tune-up.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” the Kitty-Bot shouted as she hit at me. She sounded like me. How extra-special. She hit hard, but not as hard as I was used to. We rolled around, though I was able to ensure that we rolled away from the Rose Garden. Was also fairly sure that my skirt had ripped.
    â€œStopping you from whatever you’re planning.” Roll, hit, roll, hit. Heart’s “Kick It Out” came on my airwaves. At least my iPod and earbuds were hanging tough. Did my best to kick while we rolled, but I miscalculated and the Kitty-Bot rolled so she was on top of me and got me pinned.
    She started to hit me, but I’d been in this situation before and didn’t even need Tito to shout instructions. Got my arms up over my head so she was only hitting my forearms. Hit her hard with a knee to her back and she went forward. Used my pelvis to throw her off, shoved hard at her with my hands while she was moving, then leaped up from the ground to my feet, just like they did in the movies: from my back, no hands. Really and truly hoped someone, anyone, was witness to this—the skills were working exceptionally well, and that usually meant no one I wanted to impress was around to see them. The fact that I heard my suit jacket rip was irrelevant to the coolness of the move.
    Got out of my wrecked jacket, then grabbed her with the intent to try to rip one of her arms off. Didn’t work, mostly because she pulled out of my hold.
    â€œGet your hands off me. I have a message for the President.”
    â€œYou can share it with me. I’ll make sure he gets it.” Slammed a front ball kick into her midsection. My skirt definitely ripped on that one.
    She staggered back a couple steps. She might not havebeen as hard as the other androids, but she was still more painful to hit than any human or alien, and I
had
hit a lot of those over the past years.
    Went for the tackle again. She wasn’t really ready to block it, meaning I was able to grab her. But this time I wasn’t able to bring her to the ground, so we were grappling while standing up and sort of flinging each other around without letting go.
    She threw me off of her. I didn’t go sailing, like I had with other androids. So either the Kitty-Bot wasn’t trying all that hard, or I was right—she was an older model. For all I knew, she wasn’t really an android, just a robot, though I’d look to Chuckie and Serene for the distinction, if there even was one.
    Landed in a crouch that would have made every kung fu instructor I’d ever had glow with pride and claim to be the one who’d taught me to do it. The Kitty-Bot, meanwhile, spun and headed back toward the Rose Garden. Interesting. The mission appeared to be all for her. Of course, Mom, my Secret Service detail, Serene, Chuckie, Reader, Tim, and Tito were all here, between her and the Rose Garden, so maybe she was just going to try to blow up the maximum number of participants.
    Launched myself at her and caught her from behind this time. We went to the ground again. This time, though, I wasn’t going to allow her to get into a better position. Grabbed her head and put it into a lock.
    Before I