Empty Space by Alan Black

Author:Alan Black [Black, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781507669235
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 24953851
Publisher: Alan Black
Published: 2015-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

York stepped into the circle and looked across the ring at his opponent. The man was young, younger than York, but obviously old enough to compete or he wouldn’t have been allowed to sign up. He looked strong enough with more muscle development than simple hard farm labor would produce, muscles with the slick pumped look of steroid injections. He was as tall as York, looked fast on his feet and had a little longer reach than York. He was well over the two hundred pound minimum weight limit for this heavyweight category. He also looked more than a little drunk.

His opponent ignored the announcer and the referee, dancing around and jabbing a finger at York. His words were slurred, “Youse going down. An’ youse ain’t gettin’ up. I hope you brought enough friends to drag you out of here. Sure hope youse health insurance is paid up.” He was obviously more interested in approval from his friends than how his words were supposed to scare York.

York undid the top of his uniform coveralls, separating them at the waist. Since this was catch as catch can, he didn’t want to give an opponent something extra to grab onto. He would have stripped down to his skivvies, but he wasn’t sure what the mores were for being mostly naked at a family event. He shoved the blouse into the small bag with the pistol and holster, unworried about wrinkles, since the material wouldn’t wrinkle or hold dirt and sweat no matter how hard he tried.

The referee was a small young woman. She held a stun baton. Turning it on and listening to the powerful electric buzz was all of the warning and instructions she gave the contestants about proper fight behavior. “Get at it,” she said.

The young man rushed across the ring swinging a wild, roundhouse punch at York’s head. Someone untrained might have been tempted to duck under the whiffer, but York could see the punch was a feint. The wild punch was meant to miss. The young man’s other fist was coming up in a jawbreaking uppercut, aimed to knockout anyone foolish enough to duck under the haymaker.

York didn’t duck. He grabbed the youth’s fist with both hands and yanked hard, pulling him in close, letting the uppercut glance harmlessly off his shoulder. He twisted the arm. Slipping behind the man and reaching up, York wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and head. Six and a half seconds of squeezing and the man went slack. York eased him to the ground, stepped back and leaned against the ropes.

He’d expected more and was disappointed. His hope had been to get into a real scrap. He wanted a hard fight where he might be able to break someone. None of these people had done him any hurt, so he wasn’t in the mood to kill any of them. Someone … somewhere … yes, but not these people. Still, if someone was willing to get into a little tussle just for the fun of it, at least they could’ve made it interesting for him.

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