The Trapdoor

"Why don't you go wet yourself and let us handle this," John said and took a menacing step towards her. He stood a head taller than Samantha and weighed twenty pounds more, all of it muscle. Still, she didn't back away.

"Wendell and I are going to deliver this firewood to Miss Brigham," she said. She folded her arms across her chest and planted her feet in the meadow's soft grass.

"No you aren't," John said. "Now get out of here before you get hurt."

Samantha stood her ground. When John swung at her with his left arm, she grabbed his wrist without thinking and flipped him to the ground behind her. Then she turned to the blond boy and said, "Do you want to be next?" The blond boy looked first at his partner and then at her before running down the hill to the safety of the barn.

"Are you all right?" she asked Wendell.

John got to his feet and tried to take Samantha by surprise with a punch aimed at the back of her head. She ducked under the blow and then stuck out her right leg, sending John crashing to the ground next to Wendell. Before John could roll back to his feet, Samantha jumped on his back, pinning him to the ground. She twisted his left arm behind his back and said, "Go on, say it."

"Fine, carry the stupid firewood. We didn't want to anyway," John said.