The Iron Fists of Ned Kelly (Fight Card) by Jack Tunney

Author:Jack Tunney [Tunney, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Australia & Oceania, History, Action & Adventure, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00O85L9P8
Published: 2014-11-10T11:00:00+00:00

ROUND 8

GREYSTONE WALLS

H.M. PRISON PENTRIDGE, MELBOURNE VICTORIA,

SEPTEMBER 1871

At only sixteen years old, some of the lags saw Ned Kelly as an easy touch in prison. One such man was Elliot Brenner. Brenner was bald, short in stature and wide of girth. Subsequently he was nicknamed 'Hog'. From across the prison yard he watched young Kelly sitting against the greystone wall. He also noted Kelly's boots were in far better condition than his own. His pair had a large hole in the left sole that let in water when it rained. It was time to make an exchange.

Hog shouldered past the other prisoners toward Kelly until he stood directly in front of him, almost blocking the light. Kelly looked up.

“What do you want?” Kelly queried.

“That's a nice pair of boots you got there,” Hog said. “Take 'em off.”

“I am not taking my boots off,” Kelly responded, confused by the strange request.

“I don't think you understand, boy, I'm not asking. I'm telling.”

Kelly climbed to his feet, standing a good foot taller than Hog.

“Go to Hell!” Kelly hissed.

The kid wanted to learn the hard way, Hog figured. He'd oblige.

Moving forward, with both hands he pushed Kelly in the chest, forcing him back against the wall. Before the young man had a chance to react, Hog thundered two blows into his midsection. Kelly doubled over.

“Now give me your boots,” Hog snarled.

“I said, go to Hell,” Kelly repeated.

Hog clenched his fists, ready to strike again. However, before he could act, Kelly bounded forward and threw a crunching right cross. It caught Hog on the bridge of the nose. The older man staggered back with blood streaming from his nostrils.

Anger coursed through his veins.

“Why you...” Hog charged forward, straight into another blow. This one caught him on the point of the jaw. That was all remembered as darkness washed over him.

***

A prison warder marched Ned to the hole. His tussle with Hog had netted him two weeks in solitary confinement. The Hog, on the other hand, got the soft treatment. He was sent to the infirmary for bed rest. Ned ground his teeth together and cursed the bloated windbag. It was just the latest in the line of endless injustices Ned had had to endure. But he wasn't beaten. They would never beat him.

The steel door to the hole was opened, and Ned was unceremoniously pushed inside by the warder. The door was slammed shut, blocking out the light. In the darkness, Ned felt his way to the wall and sat down against it. No, they would never beat him.

***

After two weeks, Ned was let out of the hole. The iron door to the cell swung open and a warder stood silhouetted in the door-frame. Ned held up a hand to shield his eyes from the light.

“Stand up, Prisoner Kelly,” the warder snapped. Ned climbed to his feet and stood up straight, or at least as straight as he could. In the Hole, he had only been given half rations, so he felt weak. “Move forward and hold out your hands,” the Warder added.

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