Revenant

Chapter 38

Anger.

Despite being at complete odds with every other one of the realizations I'd just had, my fourth reaction felt like the one that mattered the most just then. I informed realizations one, two, and three that they could go die in a fire.

The gist of my fleeting, angry thoughts on the matter was simple; I wasn't who needed to be afraid right now. I was the apex predator - I was the dangerous one here. Not this amateurish dead-like thing that bashed its way to success without any hint of subtlety, or finesse, or craftiness. Me. That's who was dangerous.

And in barely any time at all, my head swimming in angry thoughts like this, I decided a quick demonstration of this fact was in order.

If this thing in front of me was capable of feeling fear... it would. I'd make it.

I charged down two steps with a yell, reversing my hold on the shotgun mid-step and then thrusting it forward with both arms, attempting to ram the heavy stock of the weapon into Stevie's face. He'd taken a quick step up at the precisely the wrong moment, so rather than connect with his head I landed a solid blow to his collarbone, and I both heard and felt something crack. Praying the cracking sound wasn't the stock of my shotgun splitting, I pulled the whole thing back with a snarl and readied myself for another attempt at the exact same thing, tensing to land the sort of head shot that could snap a neck in two....

There was a blur of motion in front of me as Stevie's hand shot out and wrapped around my left wrist, clenching it tightly and halting my two-handed attack mid-thrust. I realized he hadn't actually grabbed the gun, so I quickly let go of the stock of the shotgun with my left and gripped the barrel with my right, trying to ignore how warm the metal I now held had gotten. Then I swung the heavy end of the weapon in an arc, aiming for the shoulder of the arm that was holding mine.

I managed a glancing blow, which was accompanied by a sickly 'thuck' noise. It wasn't much of a hit, admittedly, but it had missed Stevie's nose by mere inches, and had gotten his attention.

As I readied myself for a second swing I could see he was already anticipating my next attack, positioning his free hand in such a manner that he'd be able to actually catch my shotgun by the stock this time around.

Rather than complete my swing, I abandoned it altogether, relaxing my arm and allowing the attack to fall short. Instead I pushed my trapped arm directly at his torso. Then I twisted my entire body and shoved my arm up towards him at a very specific angle, continuing to rotate into him as I did. It was automatic... something that had been drilled into my head over and over when I'd started learning Krav Maga.

See, leverage is a thing, and physics is also a thing, and thumbs are a very important thing when it came to being able to grip someone's wrist effectively. They're the vulnerable bit, the weakest link in that particular chain. Someone grabs on to your arm tightly, and you can use your arm as a lever, apply enough force to it at the right angle, and it didn't matter how strong the other guy was... they either let go, or they lost the use of their thumb. At which point they let go anyway.

I brought my shoulder up with a growl of effort, twisting my forearm down as hard as I could. There was a noise not unlike the sound you hear when someone bites down on an ice cube, and the vice-like pressure around my wrist abated instantly.

Guess he'd opted not to let go....

Twisting out of Stevie's grip like that had required me to put one knee on the step, and I realized I was still dangerously close to him. This fact was made much more obvious when he raised his non-injured hand and brought it down in a hammer-fist aimed at my head, catching me near the top of my left brow. Pain exploded in my temple, and everything flashed white for a split-second, at which point I found that I was now on both knees and turned mostly away from my opponent. I started to get back on one foot-