Siren

Prologue

Gertrude had to be the worst name on the planet. At least, that's what Gertrude thought. Her parents could have given her a cute name like Katie, or something to help her fit in with the popular girls like Brittany. She would have settled for Amanda or even something mundane like Jane but, of course, that would have been too plain for her. No, it was Gertrude, and her life had only gotten more difficult from there. That was how she wound up lying in the mud for the fifth time.

"Get up," the sergeant said.

She rolled onto her hands and knees then grit her teeth and slammed her fist into the puddle under her. She had made it farther this time than the previous four but would have to do more training before she could conquer the last quarter of the course. It wasn't fair. None of it. It wasn't her fault that this idiotic course was built for men with six foot frames, crazy upper body strength, and flat chests. Gertrude stalked away and spat the grit from her mouth.

"You will be eligible again in two months," the sergeant rattled after her. She turned back to the uniformed man that smirked at her with hungry eyes. "See you then, Gerty," he said.

Gertrude had to swallow her retort and bite her lip before she said, "I'll be back, Howard."

He smiled wider and it took everything she had to not punch his condescending face in. She grit her teeth and stormed away. Her body had betrayed her again, just like it always did. She had been training for years and fighting for this chance her whole life. She knew what was coming. The same thing she had done over and over. Explanations and defending all of her life choices. She knew Sammy and Craig would understand, but her mother. Oh, her mother.

She picked up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder leaving footprints down the hall and into the bathroom. She stripped out of her sodden clothes and looked at the shower trying to find the will to clean the mud off.

Could she really do this again? Her hair streaked mud onto her bare shoulder and she cursed then turned on the shower. She would do this again. Again and again, no matter how long it took. She didn't bother to clean herself, just a quick rinse to get the dirt off then she slipped into a clean singlet and exercise pants. She still felt dirty in spite of the clean clothes but had run out of the energy to care. She didn't want to be here with the judgmental looks and prying eyes. She wanted to be safe in her apartment before she washed away the grime and the residue from Howard's wandering gaze. She wanted to be somewhere safe where no one could see her tears.

1 The Incident

It always struck her as odd that in order to blend in she had to dress to stand out. If a woman wasn't screaming for attention with her wardrobe then she would be singled out to be shunned. She had to have well manicured nails and perfectly brushed hair lest people think she was fishing for sympathy. She had to show just the right amount of skin to find the balance between sexual object and man-eating monster.

Perhaps there was no way to avoid ridicule altogether but the last thing Gertrude wanted to do was invite it. The one thing she chose to wear because she liked it was a silver band with a butterfly on it that she clasped on her wrist. She liked butterflies, and not because they were pretty, but because in order for a caterpillar to transform it had to break itself down to a nearly molecular level and rebuild itself into something new. Gertrude had been trying to do that her whole life.

"Gerty, I'm home," Sammy called. Sammy was the only person Gertrude ever let get away with calling her that. Her flatmate hung her keys and stretched before stepping into the flat proper.

"You're home early," Gertrude said.

"A half hour of not knowing isn't worth the money I get paid," Sammy answered. Her excited grin was contagious even though Gertrude had no good news to give her. "How did it go? Did you make it?"

Samantha had called her twice and texted four times but she hadn't had the heart to answer. Now that it came to it Gertrude could only shake her head.

"Don't worry about it," Sammy said. "Let's go out. I need to go to the bank anyway, then we can get some ice cream."

"Ice cream sounds great," Gertrude sighed. "Why the bank?"

"Student loan payment today. If I do it online it won't post until tomorrow."

Gertrude winced. They had spent many a night moping over the unfairness of late fees. Something so awful had to have been thought up by an insurance company.

The two walked out the door and made sure it latched behind them. Gertrude's purse fell off her shoulder and she angrily threw it across her back. Purses were another thing she wished she could expunge from the pages of history. She owed that to the ridiculous clothes she had to wear that had no pockets. Was it too much to ask that women's clothes be able to hold more than a two dollar coin per pocket? The clothing designers were probably in league with the purse makers who also made sure that only the most frilly and impractical bags were in fashion.

"So, if you failed the test, do you want to go to the studio with me tonight?" Sammy asked.

"No," Gertrude answered. "I'm going to the gym."

"I'm not saying you should give it up," Sammy said, "but take a night off. Clear your head. Sometimes you have to distance yourself from the problem, you know."

"What, you failed your test?" A voice echoed from across the yard. Gene stood with a watering can in front of the plants that lined his flat's windows.

"Yes," Gertrude grumbled. "But I can take it again in two months. Which is why I have to train."

"I'm cheering for you," Gene said and smiled so wide that his eyes disappeared. He turned back to his plants and Gertrude waited a few steps before continuing the conversation.

"Aren't you going with Craig?"

Samantha nodded.

"I don't think I can face that today."

"What's wrong with Craig?" Sammy asked. "He knows better than anyone what you're going through."

"Exactly," Gertrude said. "Besides, I don't want to be a third wheel."

"Then you could, I don't know, bring a date."

"No," Gertrude said. Her eyes were wide and she suddenly looked pale. "No blind dates."

"I never said blind," Sammy defended. "Bring Gene."

Gertrude smirked, then winced. "Gene is nice, but he's not exactly boyfriend material."

"You don't have to marry him or even sleep with him," Sammy said. "Just go out for a night. Have some fun."

"Maybe another night," Gertrude said. Those things were easy for Samantha to say. She had a boyfriend who happened to be tall, handsome, and a cop to boot. Those types weren't exactly lining up at Gertrude's door. Gene was nice and funny, but he was no Craig. Gertrude didn't think she was being shallow, she only asked for someone who wasn't more than a few pounds overweight and didn't live with their mother or write novels or play D&D in their spare time. Was that too much to ask?

What she really needed was to train so that she could laugh in Howard's face the next time he leered at her. Gertrude and Samantha caught the train to the next stop and were soon at the doors of the Commonwealth Bank.

"I'll only be a minute," Sammy said then filed through the maze of ropes. Gertrude sat then watched her friend be redirected and disappear into a cubicle. Gertrude thought that the setup of this bank was a good metaphor for her life. She wanted something that she could never afford on her own and went through endless hoops to achieve it only to be redirected and put at the mercy of some man behind a desk. She had to follow social conventions and be proper. It didn't matter what she was capable of, it only mattered what the man behind the desk believed. What if she didn't want her nice little cubicle?

"Okay sir, right away," one of the tellers said and something in their tone set Gertrude on edge. A man stood at the counter wearing a hood and a mask which was abnormal but not suspiciously so. It was a medical mask as if the man were merely afraid of getting sick and many people still wore them and had for decades. His body language, however, told a different story. His eyes darted and he leaned over the counter with one hand pressed flat on the counter and the other hidden in his pocket. The teller was pale as a sheet and her eyes were as wide as her computer screens. Gertrude was halfway to them before they noticed her.

"Is she giving you trouble?" Gertrude asked.

"No trouble here," the man said. He had dropped his voice in an obvious effort to disguise it. "Go away."

"These bankers think they have the right to keep our own money from us," Gertrude said.

The man pulled his hand out of his pocket to reveal a handgun. A real gun. The sight made Gertrude suck in a breath. How had he gotten a hold of that? Gertrude had been trying for years to get a permit but had never been allowed. It was suddenly clear that no matter how much she tried and no matter how good her intentions she would simply not be allowed any element of power when it could more easily be granted to the depraved, violent, and malevolent. A tightly wound spring in her demanded release. It demanded that justice be done in some way if only to prove that it was possible.

She slapped the gun away before he had it raised and it clattered to the floor. For the briefest moment the would-be thief was too shocked to react and it cost him. Without hesitation, just like she had practiced hundreds of times in her martial arts class, she drove her fist into the man's side then curled her arm around him and hurled him to the floor.

The man was not surprised for long. With a roll and a kick he not only regained his feet but had retrieved the gun. "Hands up now!" the man yelled in a panicked tenor, then fired a wild shot over Gertrude's shoulder.

She was used to how loud firearms were but flinched when she actually felt the bullet whistle through the air by her ear. She had fired a gun before but never been on the wrong end of one. Gertrude raised her hands and licked her lips. "What was that," she asked, "Jiujitsu or break dancing?"

"Stay where you are," the man barked then looked to the teller. "Just give me my money and no one needs to get hurt."

Gertrude glanced around the room and saw several people taking cover including Samantha only two cubicles away. "Listen, I know times are tough," she said softly, "but there has got to be an easier way than this to get money."

"Shut up," the man said and refocused his sights on her.

He wasn't far away, and she was fast. Not faster than a bullet but maybe she could get out of the way and get that gun out of his hand. Then again if she tried moving that fast in this dress everyone would get a show. She stood for far too long considering her options. The man's hand was shaking and she could see sweat beading on his sallow skin. All she needed was the barest moment of distraction.

Samantha gasped from where she hid and at the same moment the man's eyes went wide. His grip loosened on his pistol and Gertrude sprang. She slapped the gun away then grappled the man and fell to the floor. She twisted his arm and pressed her weight on him. She had to be careful. She had a strong hold, but she was small and with enough brute strength he could break free. She held on tight hoping it would be enough until the police arrived. "Sammy, get the gun," Gertrude grunted.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Face peeked around corners at her one by one and jaws dropped in shock. It annoyed Gertrude that people thought her so pathetic that this was beyond their feeble comprehension. The women gasped and while a few of the men looked away most were staring intently at her. Were they impressed? No, she knew that look. Those were hungry eyes, the kind wanted to take you for their own. Men were all such pigs.

Gertrude shifted her weight as the man struggled. The sirens were right outside and Gertrude thought it was a bit breezy and colder than it should have been. With her face pressed against the man's back Gertrude couldn't see more than their boots as the police filed in but to Gertrude's surprise she recognized the voice.

"Down boys, nothing to see here, go back to... Gertrude is that you?" Craig said because of course it had to be Craig.

"Yeah," she grunted. "Can you get cuffs on this guy so I can let go of him?"

Craig knelt next to her. "You can let him go, I got him."

Gertrude stood and watched Craig put handcuffs on the would be thief. Craig looked up at her then snapped his gaze away, his face turning bright red. Another officer came up from behind her and threw a blanket over her shoulders.

"Quit gawking people," the officer barked. "Nothing to see."

Gertrude pulled the blanket around her, a little confused as to why it was given to her when she noticed that her dress was missing. Now the cold room was suddenly very hot.