Head throbbing and side aching, I scramble to my feet at a slightly lowered stance. More of a wrestling takedown position as my gaze pins him and I decide how next to advance.
Black Shell fakes me out, rushing forward, then feinting right as soon as I move to take him down.
I throw a desperate roundhouse kick. He catches my leg, yanks me off balance, and drives his fist into my damaged ribs. More bones crack. The pain is more than intense, but I can’t stop.
Monroe is in that wardrobe. Every second I waste is a second she’s running out of air.
I twist out of his grip and hammer a punch into his kidney. He grunts and releases me, staggering. I press the advantage, snapping out a front kick that lands square in his chest. He flies backward, hits the ground hard, and I’m on him before he can recover.
I rain down blows from above—fist to his face, elbow to his temple, knee driving into his ribs. He gets his arms up to block, but I’m relentless, enraged over what he’s done to Monroe and our son fueling me.
But he’s not to be outmatched for long.
He bucks his hips and throws me off, scramblingto his feet with a speed that defies his injuries. His leg whips out in a crescent kick that I block, then he follows with a spinning heel kick that connects with my side.
Right where my ribs are broken.
I crumble against my will.
He’s on me instantly. He grabs my arm and wrenches it behind my back, twisting until my shoulder pops out of its socket with a sickening wet crack. The scream that tears from my throat is involuntary. He drives his knee into my spine, sending me sprawling face first into the wet rocks.
“Pathetic,” he snarls, circling me as I struggle to push myself up with one arm. “The great Silent Hunter, choking on his own blood. Your father put up a better fight than this. He lasted almost ten minutes before I made him watch his family die.”
His taunts waver in and out through my haze of pain.
Images of my family from that night float to mind. Then comes a pregnant Monroe, the joy in her eyes and the bright smile she’d given me as we celebrated our baby boy.
I snap with a ferocious roar, surging to my feet on pure adrenaline. Enough that I’m able to tune out the intense pain from my battered body.
He throws a punch, and I dodge it, countering with a headbutt that smashes into his already broken nose. More blood sprays across both our faces and he staggers backward, momentarily blinded.
I attack with everything I have left.
My leg snaps out in a cut kick that slams into his thigh. He buckles. I follow with a spinning back kick to his ribs, breaking a bone of his in retaliation for my fractured side.
He doubles over, and I bring my knee up into his chin, snapping his head back, the crack echoing over the latest crash of thunder.
He tries to retreat, but I won’t let him. I grab his head and slam it down into my rising knee.
Once, then twice, then a third time, turning his face into bloody ruin. I finally let him go, and he collapses to his knees, swaying.
We’re both heaving for air, bruised and bloodied even as the cold rain pours and tries to wash away the evidence.
But even now, Black Shell isn’t one to quit. He won’t do so until the very bitter end.
His hand darts into his long coat and emerges with a blade. He leaps forward with renewed vigor, slashing at me with wild desperation. I twist too late, and the blade slashes open my arm, the wound from elbow to wrist.
I spin to avoid the next strike, but am again not quick enough to evade it altogether. The blade slices across my back once and then a second time as he gives it another harsh flick.
The skin is torn open as I fight to stay a step ahead.
He’s growing progressively sloppier, obviously winded but still too stubborn to quit. He swings the blade in wide arcs that leave him open.
Timing his next slash, I duck under it and step inside his reach. My hand closes around his wrist. We struggle for the blade, muscles straining, rain pouring down our bloody faces and making our grip slippery at best.
He drives his forehead into my shattered cheekbone. The pain is indescribable, more hot pulses radiating through my skull.
That’s all he needs.
