Part 38 (1/2)
Stocky is backing up quick, and Pierce is dancing toward him. He stops suddenly, and puts out his hands, beckons, taunts.
It seems to have an effect. The body language of Stocky changes, becomes angry, and he stomps toward Pierce, fists up, ready to block a blow.
Pierce feints a step to his left, and throws Stocky's weight off-center. He then kicks out Stocky's unbalanced foot. Stocky goes down hard onto his back.
Pierce is on him in an instant, rolling around, and I can't even make out what's happening. But before long he's got Stocky's head in the nook of his knee, and he's squeezing.
”Holy s.h.i.+t,” Rose whispers. ”That was fast.”
Stocky is on the ground, his face is red as a beetroot, and he's in a chokehold. Pierce, still putting on a show, points at the crowd, and they erupt.
”Jesus,” I say, looking at Chance and Ca.s.sie. She's got her face bunched up, and I agree with her. Watching Stocky being choked like that is so immediate and visceral. It's... a little sickening.
”Pierce has him in what's called a submission hold,” I overhear Chance tell her. She doesn't reply.
Stocky's losing strength in his body now. He's trying uselessly to grab Pierce behind him, but can't get any good hold. Pierce twists his leg again, rolling Stocky's body over so that he's face down, neck still being held in between Pierce's calf and thigh.
”He's going to kill him,” I whisper in disbelief. ”What the h.e.l.l? Don't they stop the fight?”
But, to my surprise, Stocky twists his body again, and lays a thunderous punch against Pierce's thigh. The leg instantly goes dead, and Stocky rolls out, wincing, holding onto his throat and rubbing it.
Pierce gets to his feet, tests his leg, and I can almost feel the numbness he must be feeling, the pins and needles from the heavy blow.
He just grins, and beckons Stocky again.
The noise has all but died. There's an eerie silence, as if suddenly the audience no longer cares for Pierce's taunting. Or maybe they're shocked by the purple bruise that's already forming on Stocky's neck.
Stocky is p.i.s.sed, though. That much is for sure. He's losing his composure, but still Pierce keeps taunting him.
”Why does he do that?” I say. ”Isn't there sportsmans.h.i.+p?”
”It's a strategy,” Chance informs me. ”Getting into his head, getting him uneven mentally.”
”Isn't that cheap?”
He shrugs. ”Anything to win.”
Stocky lunges, but Pierce dodges him easily. He captures Stocky's arm, twists it behind his back, and then kicks out his legs again, sending him face-first to the floor. The sound is a deep, loud, single thump, and I'm reminded of the time I once dropped a bowling ball in the lane.
Pierce rolls over the body, hooks Stocky's neck with his leg again, and this time grabs his own foot with his hand, and pulls.
Stocky's body flails for a second, then I see the shoulders drop. He's trying to get out from under it, but gets stuck on Pierce's hip bone.
It's only a few seconds before Stocky's body goes limp.
”That's the Pace choke,” I overhear Chance say to Ca.s.sie. ”Lights-out in seconds. No blood to the brain.”
The fight is over. Pierce gets up, and somebody rushes to Stocky. I a.s.sume he's a doctor.
The crowd bursts into manic cheering and applause, and Pierce trots about the cage, arms up, grinning.
He's barely even broken a sweat.
Chapter Eight.
”Did you see how fast he was?” Rose asks me. ”G.o.d, he's good.”
”I saw it,” I say as we leave the warehouse. The entire audience is filtering out at once, and it's slow progress. The hubbub of excited chatter is thunderous. I can barely hear myself speak.
Everybody's talking about how fast Pierce won. They're saying that if this was a scored match, Stocky would have only received points for getting out of the first hold with that single blow onto his thigh.
I have to admit to myself that Pierce was impressive. Deceptively light on his feet despite all that muscle... it was graceful. Incredibly athletic.
”What are we going to do now?” I ask Rose.
”Well,” she says, grinning at me. ”Now we see if we can talk to Pierce.”
”Really?” I ask.
”Yeah. I'm going to tell him your dad is dating his mom.”
”d.a.m.n Rose, why?”
”So we get a chance to meet him.”
”Rose, I don't want to do this. You can't tell him that.”
”Why not? You're free to leave.”
I frown. ”G.o.d, you can be such a b.i.t.c.h sometimes.”
”Hey, I want to meet him.”
”And what about Jason?”
”Oh, he's not the jealous type.”
”I'm not?” Jason says, appearing from behind us. He was supposed to be using one of the porta-potties, but apparently the line was too long.
”It was going to be a hazmat zone in there once it got to my turn,” he explains, grinning.
”Gross.”
”Anyway,” Rose says, ”Now you'll get a chance to meet him. See what all that pointing was about.”