Authors: Shane M Brown
This one has to connect
, thought King, but Bora twisted on the spot, avoiding the kick and catching King’s outstretched leg.
King saw it happening, but had already committed his full body weight to the attack, hoping the unexpected kick would change the dynamics of the fight.
Bora gripped King by the ankle and heaved his leg straight upwards, reefing King off the floor and smashing him back down into the water.
King was prone on the floor again. Again, Bora didn’t move in to take advantage. King noticed that Bora wore an old hunting dagger strapped to his belt. He could have used the dagger while King lay prone.
What is he doing?
King rose shakily to his feet. He was in big trouble. Bora moved like a professional fighter. Like some kind of combat-deity or the champion of a hard man contest. King had met his match. Bora was easily more than his match. This was a totally new experience for King.
I’m in big trouble here. He’s all over me. I need to get him into a position where my strength will count. I need to get him close.
Bora pulled something from his fatigues pocket. It was something small, completely concealed in his hand.
King watched the hand warily, wondering what the hell was coming next. Bora opened his hand, palm down, and a set of dog tags dangled off his thumb.
Bora ran his other hand along the chain until the tags were between his left thumb and forefinger. He made a big show of reading out the details on the dog tags.
‘MARTINEZ, Ramon P. Corporal, FAST.’ Bora swung the dog tags left and right like a hypnotist. ‘Friend of yours, Sergeant?’
Marlin’s dog tags.
King felt like the epicenter of all the hate in the world. He had never hated anyone so much in his life. He didn’t know it was possible to hate someone this much.
‘I thought so,’ smirked Bora. ‘I killed him, you know. I burnt him to a crisp. I heard him screaming up there in the ceiling.’
Bora suddenly flicked his wrist and jerked the swinging dog tags up into his hand. In the same motion he lunged forward to punch King. The fist clenching the dog tags flew straight at King’s head.
This time, the attack didn’t connect. King caught Bora’s wrist, pulling the attack to an abrupt stop.
King had caught Bora’s fist in midair, locking his arm there.
King slowly twisted, turning Bora’s hand outwards. Bora smiled slightly at the interception, and then flashed in with his other hand.
King caught Bora’s other wrist.
Bora might have been a combat-deity, but King was a big bad brute who now held his best friend’s killer. King slowly pulled Bora’s arms apart, pushing those dangerous hands away, and drawing Bora in closer and closer and closer….
‘My turn,’ whispered King into Bora’s face.
King snapped his head forward, cracking his forehead into Bora’s face. As Bora’s head rocked backwards, King let go of both wrists and slapped his palms inwards with all the strength in his massive chest. His hands collided with perfect timing on either side of Bora’s head. King felt the water on his palms helping to make a perfect seal over Bora’s ears.
The sudden increase of air pressure in a person’s inner ear was enough to incapacitate some men, but King kept hold of Bora’s head and delivered another stiff head butt before Bora had any chance to shake off the stunning effects of the first two attacks.
The second head butt rocked Bora back like he was on the deck of a pitching ship.
Now. Give it everything you’ve got.
King slammed his fists over and over into Bora, pounding the man backwards. Bora struggled to keep his footing under the rain of powerful attacks. King finished with a round house right-hander that should have knocked the bolt out of Bora’s ass and seen the man fall to pieces.
Bora spun off the big hit, managing to keep his footing but facing away from King.
King wrapped his right arm around Bora neck from behind and locked him in a choke hold. His mouth was near Bora’s left ear, which he could see was running with blood. King hissed, ‘Time to lie down and die, you bastard.’
Bora wrapped his hands around King’s forearm and jerked hard enough to steal a gasping breath.
‘That’s-the-spirit,’ slurred Bora. ‘
Now-
we’re-fighting.’
King yanked the dog tags from Bora’s fingers, but there was something King had forgotten.
Bora lifted his right leg and crashed his boot heel down….
Straight on the top of King’s bare foot. King felt the small bones in his foot splinter. The pain shot up his leg like he had stumbled into a bear trap.
Bora curled forwards, pulling King off his feet, then charged backwards, smashing King into the wall.
Or that was what King expected.
He’d forgotten about the shelves, which smashed into his kidneys like someone had struck him with a crowbar.
Pain burst up King’s back, momentarily masking the agony from his foot. He hardly felt Bora break free of his choke hold. He lurched forward, away from the wall, and momentarily couldn’t see Bora.
Searching, he snapped his face to the right. Bora had torn a shelf off the wall and was swinging it with two hands.
The shelf swung straight into King’s head, smashing apart in his face. He careened face first down into the water.
King landed flat out in water, hurt bad.
Cold water lapped his facial wounds. He could hardly feel any part of his body that wasn’t in agony. His face must have been a mess. The plastic shards had probably sliced to the bone. It felt like the impact had peeled back the flesh over his right eye. When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry.
Stand up, Marine. Die on your own feet, not lying at his feet like a dog.
King forced his knees up under his body. He heard Bora’s footsteps circling him like a curious predator inspecting incapacitated prey. As he brought his hands in, his fingers moved over something jagged. It was the broken edge of the plastic shelf. King wrapped his fingers around the plastic shard.
Just get up. Get…up.
He rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying over his damaged foot. Bora stopped in front of him, between King and the hatch.
The same position in which they started the fight.
King held the broken edge of the plastic shelf.
Bora looked down at the jagged spike, and then drew his own hunting dagger.
King couldn’t believe it.
He wants more of a fight?
King lifted the plastic spike and stabbed weakly at Bora’s chest. Bora caught the slow attack and then swept his hunting knife across King’s torso. King felt the blade slicing across his stomach. He saw the blade change direction and start coming upwards.
Bora plunged the hunting knife straight through King’s forearm. The plastic shard slipped from his grasp. Bora jerked out the knife and lowered it to his side. He still didn’t make the killing strike.
At that moment, the hatch behind Bora burst open.
The creature filled the hatch like an apparition from hell.
Neither man moved. King wasn’t sure if he even could move. It took everything he had just to stay on his feet. He looked back to Bora, but Bora hadn’t moved either. In fact, Bora looked like he’d been half-expecting the creature.
King realized what Bora had done.
He has been waiting for the creature to arrive. That’s why he’s left me alive. He was going to leave me trapped in the room like I trapped him in the cinema. So why hasn’t he left already?
King noticed a drop of blood dripping from Bora’s left earlobe.
His ears! He can’t hear anymore! It must have affected him worse than I thought. He didn’t realize the creature was busting into the room until it was too late to escape.
Through the pain wracking his body, King had one thought.
I’ve failed my team.
He felt disgusted at himself for being overconfident and letting his companions down. He should have taken out the two terrorists quickly and then headed straight back to the diving arena.
Now he and Bora were stuck face-to-face. If either of them moved, they would have the creature on them in a heartbeat.
Bora just stared at King, his face unreadable, but his eyes showing that his mind raced. He was gambling that the creature would get distracted and move on.
King reached a decision. Bora was too dangerous to ever let leave this room alive.
Slowly, King began raising his hands out to the sides. He forced his arms out straight. His right arm burnt fiercely. Both his arms shook, but he kept them moving steadily apart until he was standing with his arms out-stretched on either side. Marlin’s dog tags hung from his left hand like rosary beads. King locked his eyes on Bora’s, and then let himself fall straight backwards like he was making a snow-angel.
King saw Bora’s mouth take on an ‘O’ of surprise, and then King crashed rigidly backwards onto the water.
Ripples blossomed outwards from King’s impact, straight between Bora’s legs towards the creature.
The creature launched itself towards the source of the vibrations, with Bora standing between the creature and its prey.
And then, as Bora took his first sprinting step over King’s body, Bora
became
the creature’s prey.
Bora must have still been holding the hunting knife, because King heard the
tang
of the knife’s blade striking the hatch controls.
Then King knew nothing but pounding, sharp mayhem as the creature trampled him. New flares of pain burst over his body, but he let himself get thrown around like a limp crash-test dummy. Marlin’s dog tags tore from his fingers.
Clearly Bora didn’t know or didn’t care about the water building up behind the hatch. He yanked it open. Water roared into the room. Bora lost his footing as the water struck his legs. He was washed backwards. His hands slipped off the hatch. He tumbled down and swept straight into the creature on a white water wave. King felt himself sliding along with the same surge, and then his body hit up against the opposite hatch where the water spilled over the bottom of the hatchway and into the corridor beyond.
He grabbed the hatchway and crawled through.
Behind him, he heard the sound of gunfire from the room.
Bora’s reached an assault rifle.
King just kept crawling down the corridor with the water surging around his legs. Something was about to die in that room, and King wasn’t convinced that it was Bora.