Relentless (Book 3)

Chapter 28: Benjamin - The Eighth Day

That was an impossible task. How could I possibly fight two grown, trained men at the same time, let alone beat them. But I had to figure out a way to win. Bethany needed food. She was so weak, she couldn't even stand. I had to win her food. But I didn't know how I was going to do it. It didn't seem possible. I wasn't strong enough. 

I turned away from the guards who were surrounding me on all sides, making me feel trapped, making me as though I was suffocating, and looked at Bethany, my comfort, my rock, my life.  She was kneeling at the glass that separated us, too weak to stand. She was watching all of us worriedly, her face white as a ghost, and her eyes wide with fear.

"I'll do whatever it takes, Bethany." I vowed. After I made my promise, I turned away from her before I could see her reaction. And it was a good thing I turned back when I did, because two fists were hurtling toward me. I jumped back and put myself in a position to defend myself. 

I was very used to multiple people's fists coming at me at once. Back home, it was a fairly common occurrence. What I was not used to, was actually defending myself, and what I had never, not even once in my life done, was fight back against the people behind those fists. But I had to fight back against the people behind these fists. I had no other choice.

The two circled me, one on each side, not giving me a chance to simply evade them, nor giving me the courtesy of taking turns coming at me. No, they didn't want a fair fight. They wanted to win. They wanted to be able to say that had beaten me, pounded me into the ground, painted the concrete floor with my blood.

 I ducked under the fist of the guard on the left and the guard on the right hit me in the stomach with a quick jab, causing me to double over. Which left my back wide open for the first guard to punch in the kidney. I grunted and fell to my knees. That hurt. That hurt a lot.

Before they could take advantage of the position I was in, I threw myself onto my back and kicked out at them, ignoring the pain in my kidneys, until they gave me enough space to get a few feet away from them. They were back on top of me before I even had a chance to catch my breath.

I noticed pretty quickly that one of the guards favored attacking my head and face, while the other preferred body shots. Understanding the way these two fought would be key to beating them. A few dozen punches later, I'd gotten a pretty good insight into their fighting styles. Of course, in order to get a true read on their strategy, I had to let them land quite a few of those punches. And that had taken a toll on me. But it was worth it. Now that I understood their techniques, it was much easier to evade or block their advances.

Now that I was able to avoid them, I could tell they were getting frustrated with me. They went from landing almost every one of their punches to landing only about one out of every five. They thought that with two of them, this was going to be an easy win, but it wasn't going to be. I was determined to win. I had to win. 

After a few more minutes of protecting myself against two people, I was starting to tire. They were each starting to land more punches again and my whole body was aching, burning. I blocked a punch to the face, but the other guard's fist hit me hard in the ribs. I let out and anguished cry and cursed myself for allowing it. 

Like my brother, the moment I let out a cry, the guards delighted in the sound and it rejuvenated them, they began coming at me harder and faster. Ribs, head, solar plexus, chest, spine. I couldn't catch a break, couldn't catch my breath. I did my best to protect myself, but those efforts were in vain when one of the guards managed to put me in a chokehold while I was fending off the other. 

As he held me by my throat, the other guard pummeled me. The pain of fists against my already bruised and battered body was absolutely excruciating. I would have screamed in agony if I was able to get any air in my lungs to do so.  But I would feel nothing soon if I couldn't get myself out of this hold. I wasn't getting enough blood flow to my brain. The guard was clamping down hard on my carotid, stopping the flow of oxygen rich blood to my brain. If I didn't act fast, this fight would be over very soon. And the only way I would allow this fight to end was if I was the victor. I had to think fast.