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We circled each other again for a couple of seconds until he opened with a high kick that I punched away. A series of punches and blocks quickly ensued.
I dodged his jab, faked on my left, and punched his face with my right. When I tried to follow the move with a left uppercut to his chin, he immediately backed away and I hit air.
Hayes tried to sweep my leg out from under me, but was unsuccessful in taking me down. He then went for a combination to my left and right side while I hardened my abs to take the hit.
When he threw the next punch, I was ready for him. I grabbed his arm, head butted him, and blood exploded when his nose broke with a crunch.
The slimy weasel pushed me off of him, and I backed away to get a better bearing.
We advanced toward each other and collided like tanks. I grappled for control, but the bastard was too strong.
He landed a hook to my face that left my right side open, and a massive pounding followed, forcing me to go for cover while he whaled on me.
I tried to kick him off, and when that didn’t work, I grabbed his sides and rolled to break his hold on me.
When he tried to go around me, I launched into a high kick that connected with his chest, and he stumbled away.
While he was disoriented, I grabbed the fucker into a clinch and followed it with a series of hard knees. The pressure of my hits was constant and painful.
I was so focused on hitting him, I didn’t see Hayes pull out a knife from his left pocket until the last possible minute.
White-hot pain seared my brain as the knife grazed my ribs, but instead of evading it, I pulled Hayes forward, making him drop the weapon. I then tackled him to the ground, and we both grunted as we fought for the top position. He attacked my face, body, and leg.
I took the hits and rose over him, forcing his legs between my own and locking him in a rear naked choke.
Hayes tried to dislodge me without success. He was holding onto my arms with all his strength to avoid having his airways crushed.
I wanted to prolong his agony and punish the bastard, but only had a couple of seconds before he lost consciousness. So instead, I bent my face to his ear and whispered, “This is for hurting my wife, motherfucker.”
I applied all my strength to his neck and broke it in two.
Not one person in the arena made a sound as they watched me kill their champion. One person turned his back to me and began chanting, “Death to the traitor!”
Another followed, and pretty soon, the chant could be heard throughout the arena over and over.
I didn’t know who these people were, but they had a serious loose screw in their peanut head. Hadn’t they seen enough death to last them a lifetime? The mercs came into the arena and surrounded me.
“On your knees with your hands behind your head,” a guard ordered. When I didn’t obey him immediately, the man pressed on the remote control to activate my collar.
You can imagine his surprise when that got him nothing but the end of my fist.
His friends jumped on me to break us up. One of them was about to put an entire magazine in my body when a single bullet pierced his frontal lobe right before the arena shook with an explosion.
People screamed and began running everywhere. Armed men filled the arena as the sound of guns going off could be heard.
I immediately swept the feet of one guard and dropped him with one punch.
I took his weapon, shot the one on the right and was about to shoot the one on the left when he keeled over.
The Latina who fought with me earlier pointed the barrel of her AK in my face.
“What are you doing Nam?”
“Smiling at a dead man,” she voiced stoically. “And getting my ticket out of here.”
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Really? And why not?”
