Page 16 of Survivor
She looked down into the pit, down on the monster of a male waiting for me. There was glee in those beady eyes. But I’d been up against worse and lived to tell the tale because they always underestimated me.
I offered him a jaunty salute, then stepped onto the platform.
I was halfway down when he charged, arms out, intent on swiping me onto the ground. Fuck you, disproportionate guy. I dove off the platform and hit the ground in a roll, coming up in time to see him attack empty space.
There was no waiting around in this situation. If I allowed him to get his shit together, I was fucked. I attacked. Hard.
Kicking out at the backs of his legs, the weakest part of him, I then leaped out of range of his bulky arms. He turned and barreled at me, but I evaded, sending him slamming into the rock wall with a howl.
This was hand-to-hand, no weapons. Usually, I’d try and get a grip on his neck and cut off his air supply, but this guy had no fucking neck. It would have to be a knockout. He was rushing me again, and once again, I ducked his swipe and punched him in the kidneys.
He was getting pissed, growling and grunting as he came at me. Yeah fucker, try and catch me.
I caught a flash of the huge screens hovering above. Of Tide kicking ass, and almost caught a mammoth fist to my head.
Almost.
But slowpoke was no match for me.
The crowd around our pit was roaring, and yes, there was laughter. Were we the comic relief? Did it matter as long as I managed to get the hits in? It was zero to eight right now. I was in the lead. Oh, and surprise, surprise, he was rushing me again. I made to dodge, but he moved fast, blocking me, and then a fist was headed for my face.
Fuck. I tried to evade but not in time. His blow glanced off the side of my head—not the full impact, but enough to make me see stars for a second. Enough to knock me off balance, and then something slammed into my torso, sending me flying. My back hit rock, knocking the breath out of me. And then a huge hand was wrapped around my throat, pinning me to the wall.
My brain came back online as he squeezed, enough to cut off airflow but not to kill. He knew what he was doing, and the look of delight on his horrific face told me he was reveling in this moment.
My head felt fuzzy and light. I clawed at his hand, knowing it was futile, knowing that any second now I was going to pass out and lose this match. Lose the chance to win our way off this fucking port.
I’d come so far. Escaped Vesper and then Marick. Found the guys I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and nothing was going to take this opportunity away from me.
He had no neck, but he had to have balls. Right?
A wave of adrenaline heated my veins, and I kicked out hard in a last-ditch attempt.
His beady eyes popped open wide, and his grip on my neck slackened. It was momentary, but it was enough to allow me to breathe. I filled my lungs and brought my arms up between his outstretched ones, slamming them against the insides of his elbows and breaking his grip.
He staggered back, looking almost relieved to be able to clutch his jewels. Time to end this. I needed momentum and power. I needed the berserker, but it was sleeping. Fucker.
So, I ran at the wall, using my favorite parkour move to bring myself up and launch myself at him. He raised his head as I hurtled toward him, and then my fist connected with his temple with a crack.
He went down.
I landed neatly and kicked him in the ribs, jumping back quickly to avoid him snagging my ankle.
He didn’t move.
The noise level above me had dropped as if in anticipation, and then a voice echoed around the pit.
Winner, 148.
The crowd’s roar was almost deafening.
My face shone down at me from the screens above, raised in triumph, and then flicked to another scene. A figure sprawled face down and another victor standing arms raised in victory.
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest.
I recognized those pincers.
Which meant the figure on the ground was Tide.
