Racing With Dragons: The Mapmaker's Sons, Book 1 by V.L. Burgess

Author:V.L. Burgess [Burgess, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

GATOR PIT

Gunter held his dagger in his right hand. He brought it up and swung fast, aiming for the center of Tom’s chest, clearly intending to drive the blade into his heart. Tom shoved him off and stumbled left, barely escaping the weapon’s arc. Recognizing that Gunter had missed his strike, and would therefore be off-balance, Tom pivoted around and slammed his shoulder into Gunter’s back, knocking him forward.

The motion carried them both into the middle of the melee between Porter and Gunter’s goons. From that point forward it was no longer a one-on-one fight, or even a two-on-one fight, but a free for all. Which was a problem. As a rule, Tom wasn’t a fighter. Didn’t need to be. He and his friends were mostly live and let live types. He avoided those who bullied, teased, tripped, or just generally found ways to make other kids miserable. He didn’t need the drama, and didn’t much like that type of person anyway.

But someone coming at him with a dagger was a whole different story. That wasn’t fighting. That was survival. Armed with nothing but adrenaline, Tom punched, kicked, stomped, bit. He rolled to avoid the slash of a blade, then dove back in. Porter tossed him a branch of some sort. Tom didn’t stop to wonder where it came from. He simply grabbed it with both hands and swung hard and wide, wielding it like a baseball bat.

He got lucky.

It connected with the skull of one of Gunter’s goons, producing the same satisfying crack heard in ballfields everywhere when a pitch was knocked out of the park. The man’s eyes rolled skyward and he dropped forward, out cold.

Not slowing, Tom swung again. This time he hit the other goon, knocking the machete from his hand and very likely snapping the man’s wrist in the process. Porter finished him off with an uppercut to the jaw that left him as unconscious as his fellow thug.

Breathing hard, they reeled around to attack again. Unfortunately, Gunter moved first. He grabbed Porter from behind, wrenched his right arm up behind him and thrust his dagger against Porter’s throat, holding the tip of the blade just beneath his ear. Using Porter as a shield, he faced Tom.

“Unless you want your brother dead, hand over that map.”

“Don’t,” Porter bit out. “Don’t do it, Tom.”

Gunter twisted his arm higher. “Shut up.”

Porter winced in pain. “Run, Tom. Take the map and run. Get out of here!”

Gunter pressed the tip of the blade into Porter’s skin. A drop of blood trickled down his throat. “One more word out of you and I’ll—”

“No!” Tom shouted. “You can have it! You can have the map!”

He reached into his cloak and felt for the map. Miraculously it hadn’t come loose during the tussle. He held it in his fist, showing it to Gunter. “It’s all yours. You hear me? Let Porter go and you can have it.”

Anguish showed on Porter’s face. “Tom, don’t do it!”

Tom ignored him. His eyes remained fastened on Gunter.

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