hero’s opponent for the evening. Erik Maelstrom had none
of Anderson’s easy grace—he was a hulking mountain of a man, and
seemed a good foot taller than my already sky-high hero. He was
even broader, too; a barrel-chested wrecking ball of raw power. His
fists were like hammers, ready to smash Anderson into submission.
My hands tightened around the railing until they ached, as a sudden
freezing panic swept through me. I had the absurd impulse to throw
myself into the ring, put my body between Anderson and this boulder
of a fighter he was supposed to go up against. Who had decided that
this was a good idea? Why was everyone cheering when my savior was
in such imminent danger?
I heard a warm laugh beside me as Robert lay
a hand on my shoulder. “This is your first fight, I gather,” he
said, “Don’t worry. Anderson knows how to take care of himself,
you’ll see. The boy is practically undefeated.”
“But...That guy is huge,” I said, unable to
tear my eyes away from the men in the pit.
“Huge doesn’t mean strong,” Robert said, “And
it doesn’t mean fast. Try and enjoy yourself, dear. This is the fun
part.”
The overhead voice drowned out the roar of
the crowd long enough to say, “Gentlemen, the fight
starts...NOW!”
A blasting horn pealed out a long note, and
time seemed to slow all around me as the men flew into action. I
watched as Anderson’s muscles coordinated themselves into a
flawless leap, carrying him across the ring. Maelstrom, for his
part, charged forward with a sudden burst of momentum, his pounding
steps seeming to echo throughout the entire arena. Erik raised a
fist, looking to catch Anderson in the chest, but my hero skated by
the lumbering man like a matador dodging a raging bull. Anderson
landed lightly and pivoted back toward Maelstrom, a wicked grin
affixed onto his lips. Erik stopped just short of colliding with
the wall of the pit before he fumbled to a stop, turning back
toward Anderson with a look of surprise. It was clear that
Maelstrom was used to winning fights by brute force alone, but he’d
need more than that to defeat Anderson. He’d need finesse.
Anderson crouched like a coiled spring, his
every muscle tense and focused. I felt a surge of adrenaline race
through my body as he unwound, flying forward across the pit. He
moved like a dancer, making these incredible feats of strength look
effortless. He was beautiful, and terrifying, and deadly, all at
the same time. Before Maelstrom could even move a muscle, Anderson
jumped and swung his leg around with a sweeping kick, catching the
bigger man beneath the chin with a devastating blow. I gasped as
Erik’s neck snapped back, and the cracking sound is one I’ll never
forget…for a moment I thought his jaw would fly straight off of his
face. The fighter reeled backward and Anderson struck again, this
time sweeping the bigger man’s legs out from under him. He went
down with a thud, sending up a cloud of sand as we hit the
floor.
The crowd was raging all around the pit as
Anderson retreated across the circle, putting space between him and
the fallen man. Anderson clearly could have pinned the guy right
then and there, ended the fight in a matter of minutes. But it was
obvious that Anderson wanted to prolong the battle, play with his
opponent a little bit more. I could see that it wasn’t a quick,
violent defeat Anderson was after. He was all about strategy,
tactics, and well executed entertainment…his job was to fill arenas
after all.
The smart, intuitive moves he made were
precise and fine-tuned. He stood crouched on the other end of the
pit as Maelstrom straightened up once more. With a roar, the big
man came charging back toward Anderson once more.
This time, Anderson slipped right under
Maelstrom’s arm and pivoted quickly. He leveled a swift, strong
kick against the small of Erik’s back, sending the huge fighter
sprawling out in the sand again, a look of surprised fury plastered
on his face. They were
of Anderson’s easy grace—he was a hulking mountain of a man, and
seemed a good foot taller than my already sky-high hero. He was
even broader, too; a barrel-chested wrecking ball of raw power. His
fists were like hammers, ready to smash Anderson into submission.
My hands tightened around the railing until they ached, as a sudden
freezing panic swept through me. I had the absurd impulse to throw
myself into the ring, put my body between Anderson and this boulder
of a fighter he was supposed to go up against. Who had decided that
this was a good idea? Why was everyone cheering when my savior was
in such imminent danger?
I heard a warm laugh beside me as Robert lay
a hand on my shoulder. “This is your first fight, I gather,” he
said, “Don’t worry. Anderson knows how to take care of himself,
you’ll see. The boy is practically undefeated.”
“But...That guy is huge,” I said, unable to
tear my eyes away from the men in the pit.
“Huge doesn’t mean strong,” Robert said, “And
it doesn’t mean fast. Try and enjoy yourself, dear. This is the fun
part.”
The overhead voice drowned out the roar of
the crowd long enough to say, “Gentlemen, the fight
starts...NOW!”
A blasting horn pealed out a long note, and
time seemed to slow all around me as the men flew into action. I
watched as Anderson’s muscles coordinated themselves into a
flawless leap, carrying him across the ring. Maelstrom, for his
part, charged forward with a sudden burst of momentum, his pounding
steps seeming to echo throughout the entire arena. Erik raised a
fist, looking to catch Anderson in the chest, but my hero skated by
the lumbering man like a matador dodging a raging bull. Anderson
landed lightly and pivoted back toward Maelstrom, a wicked grin
affixed onto his lips. Erik stopped just short of colliding with
the wall of the pit before he fumbled to a stop, turning back
toward Anderson with a look of surprise. It was clear that
Maelstrom was used to winning fights by brute force alone, but he’d
need more than that to defeat Anderson. He’d need finesse.
Anderson crouched like a coiled spring, his
every muscle tense and focused. I felt a surge of adrenaline race
through my body as he unwound, flying forward across the pit. He
moved like a dancer, making these incredible feats of strength look
effortless. He was beautiful, and terrifying, and deadly, all at
the same time. Before Maelstrom could even move a muscle, Anderson
jumped and swung his leg around with a sweeping kick, catching the
bigger man beneath the chin with a devastating blow. I gasped as
Erik’s neck snapped back, and the cracking sound is one I’ll never
forget…for a moment I thought his jaw would fly straight off of his
face. The fighter reeled backward and Anderson struck again, this
time sweeping the bigger man’s legs out from under him. He went
down with a thud, sending up a cloud of sand as we hit the
floor.
The crowd was raging all around the pit as
Anderson retreated across the circle, putting space between him and
the fallen man. Anderson clearly could have pinned the guy right
then and there, ended the fight in a matter of minutes. But it was
obvious that Anderson wanted to prolong the battle, play with his
opponent a little bit more. I could see that it wasn’t a quick,
violent defeat Anderson was after. He was all about strategy,
tactics, and well executed entertainment…his job was to fill arenas
after all.
The smart, intuitive moves he made were
precise and fine-tuned. He stood crouched on the other end of the
pit as Maelstrom straightened up once more. With a roar, the big
man came charging back toward Anderson once more.
This time, Anderson slipped right under
Maelstrom’s arm and pivoted quickly. He leveled a swift, strong
kick against the small of Erik’s back, sending the huge fighter
sprawling out in the sand again, a look of surprised fury plastered
on his face. They were
Similar Books
