“Sh.” I put a finger to my lips.
She moves back slightly as I brush past her and storm into the nearest bathroom. The door bangs shut behind me.
I slap the faucet and water hisses into the bowl. My eyes lock on the mirror. At first, I’m startled by my own face—eyes the shape of half-moons ringed by yellowing bruises, a split lip, and gashes in my cheek. My eyes are sunken, and my cheekbones are extremely sharp. I look like a painted skull for Halloween.
The door creaks open.
The two men step in.
As smoothly as I can, I take one of the paper cups set out for patients to use when gargling mouthwash. I pump some soap into the cup and set it under the faucet to fill up.
Behind me, I sense the men separating and flanking me on either side.
One man nods to the other and then the taller one reaches out to me. I spin, taking advantage of the element of surprise.
Grabbing the closest one by the wrist, I bend it at an odd angle while throwing the cup of water in the other guy’s face. He stumbles back, scratching at his eyes that are now sudsy and red.
The first man uses his free hand to slam my back, but I hold his arm in a tight grip and lean into the momentum of his push. Turning in a half-circle, I step backward and slam him into the sink in the process.
He grunts in pain and his body falls slack.
By now, the second attacker’s vision is clearing, and he comes after me. I duck when he punches me, but I’m not fast enough to dodge his hand as it clamps around my shirt.
I grunt when his foot swipes under mine as he tries to shake my stance.
My head whips up in shock.
These aren’t regular street fighters.
I twist around and wiggle my hands out of my shirt sleeves. Allowing him to trip me, I use the momentum to snake out of my T-shirt.
The man I slammed into the sink charges at the shirt, not realizing I’m already outside of it until it’s too late.
My chest heaves with every breath as I stare at the men. I’m winded already, but they look annoyed rather than hurt.
It’s two against one and they’re highly skilled. There’s no way I’m walking out of here unless I can come up with something fast.
A high-pitched ringing sound blasts at that moment. The overhead showers turn on with a hiss, and a harsh, steady spray of water fills the bathroom.
The men glance up as confusion creases their eyebrows. I seize the moment and forge ahead. The taller one is ready for me, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his fists raised.
But I stop just in front of him and grab the bathroom door. Slamming it into his face, I hear him grunt. Still in motion from the force I used to swing the door, I leap into the air and wrap my legs around the second man’s neck, driving my elbows into his head.
The rain from the overhead sprinklers pastes my hair against my forehead and runs down my naked shoulders and chest. Taking my shirt off is an unexpected advantage as the attacker’s heavy suits slow their punches.
The second guy drives forward, his arm wrapping around mine to pull me off. Behind me, I hear the first guy sloshing through the water to grab me.
I release my legs and fall backward, tucking into a crouch. It’s awkward and wet as the floor is flooding, but I push to my feet. Water drips off my fingertips as I stand tall.
I’m on the opposite end of the bathroom again, fist raised.
Suddenly, the first man taps the second on the shoulder.
They both raise their hands.
“Enough. We’re not here to hurt you,” the taller one says in crisp English.
I remain on guard. “Who are you?”
