Devil's Gambit

Chapter 22

Harley either had to take the beating and hope they tired soon and left, potentially die if they chose to go far enough, or he could fight like hell on his way out and at least have a shot of escaping. The latter was the clear option to him, he wouldn't go down without a fight.

He gritted his teeth and grabbed the knee of the nearest boy, pulling it forward violently so his leg buckled and he fell to the floor. Harley took the opportunity to gain some upper hand and clamber on top of the man to at least decrease the group's number by one, and hopefully do some serious damage on his way to his feet. Jonas was wrestling another guy away from Harley's back, so he felt it was either now or never.

The plan seemed to work for awhile, Harley kneeled on the guy's chest and socked him square in the face, satisfied as two rivets of blood began to stream down from his nose and his eyes watered, successfully incapacitating him for a while.

"Get the hell off, Jonas! We're not here to fuck with you!" One of the boys yelled as Jonas attempted to get him wrestled into a headlock off to the side.

"You fuck with Harley, you fuck with me you fascist assholes! Get the hell out of this country!" Jonas screamed, throwing his weight off to the side so both guys went off balance and toppled onto the ground, where they continued their scramble on the dirt strip next to the road, a cloud of dust accumulating over the scene. Harley managed to stand on shaking feet, shoving off a guy even smaller than him who tried to take him head on. He didn't remember getting kicked in the face, but he could feel his face warm with the swelling as blood ran down his nose and chin.

"Jonas, let's go!" Harley rasped, racing over to the car as Jonas scrambled off of the guy he was scrapping with, throwing up two middle fingers over his shoulders as he ran.

Harley saw the possibility of them actually getting out of this with minimal injury and bodily harm, his lesson well learned that he was no longer ever welcomed in Northside, and he was willing to make peace with that if he managed to get out alive.

But Kyle didn't stand for disrespect, he didn't appreciate lowlifes like Harley O'Reilly prancing around in Northside like they belonged there, causing trouble and terror. He felt as though he needed to make an example out of Harley- and he needed to make it hurt.

Breaking out into a dead sprint, Kyle shot forward and gained on Harley within seconds, nothing but red clouding his vision. As far as he was concerned, Harley wasn't even human anymore.

With a strong tackle from the side, Kyle sent himself and Harley down onto the concrete, both gaining some new bloody scrapes and bruises. Kyle maneuvered Harley onto his stomach so he was able to straddle his back and grab his left arm, which was currently dangerously close to knocking Kyle in the head.

Wrapping a fist around Harley's wrist, Kyle bent the arm behind Harley's back at an awkward angle, continuing to twist as Harley's screams of pain and Jonas begging simply melded together as white noise. There was soon a loud pop and a jolt as Harley's left shoulder dislocated, heat tearing through his shoulder as tears ran down Harley's cheeks, his brain consumed with thoughts of pain, pain, pain. . .

"Kyle! Car coming! We don't want to get caught doing this!" One of the teenagers yelled, and sure enough, the bright headlights of a car had turned the corner and were now coming down the road. Harley almost thought it was the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone talks about, and he was in so much agony he truly wished that were so.

"Go!" Kyle growled, finally jumping off of Harley, giving him a swift kick in the head for good measure as the boys scrambled into the truck and sped off. The car incoming had finally passed, not even slowing for the two injured boys on the side of the road, and Harley was cloaked in darkness. Or wait, was that just his vision that was getting so dark?