Page 74 of Wild Sentinel

We were out in the middle of nowhere. Hazy mountains in the distance. Nothing but Joshua trees, creosote bush, brittlebush, and Mojave yucca.

We squared off against each other, circling around like two prize fighters, sizing each other up.

Horseshoe was a big guy—6’2”, 225. Jacked. He had to be on at least 100mg of testosterone a week and probably a few peptides. Maybe a cycle of roids. You could see it in the jaw.

He came at me, fainted left, then swung a hard right. I leaned back, his fist rushing in front of my face.

With my right hand, I deflected his forearm, then spun left, and put a hard fist into his rib cage as I rolled away.

It felt like hitting a brick wall.

He groaned, and his jaw clenched tight as he squared off against me once again.

He didn't like the fact that I tagged him. More of an ego thing than anything else.

He walked me down, jabbed left, then swung right.

I bobbed and weaved and rolled away.

Once again, we squared off.

With his forearm, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

It was like fighting in an oven.

I was already pretty worn out, sore, and bruised when we started. He had the upper hand for sure. But I kept moving, trying to wear him out.

We danced around, then he charged again. Horseshoe jabbed twice, then threw a hard right.

I blocked and hammered a straight right to his nose.

His head popped back, and his face twisted with pain. With a broken nose, I knew that had to hurt. Like an ice pick to the brain.

He took a few steps back and shook it off, then drew the knife from its sheath. He was done with this little experiment. Rage reddened his face, and his eyes teared up from the blow. Blood in his scleras, he looked like a demon. "I'm going to gut you.”

"So you're saying this is a fair fight."

"Fuck you," he said, charging, the desert sun glimmering the blade.

44

The best defense in a knife fight is not to get into one. I didn't really have that option at the moment.

Horseshoe slashed the knife across my chest, the tip barely missing as I stepped back and parried.

I moved left as he backhanded. The blade careened toward me.

I blocked his forearm, then pulled him in. With my left hand, I grabbed his bicep, bringing him into a Russian tie. I twisted around and pulled him to the ground, then grabbed his pistol from his holster as we fell.

BANG!

BANG!

I put two quick shots into him with my left hand, then took aim at his comrade.

He took aim at me, but Jack charged him. He put his shoulder into the goon as he tried to get a shot off. It staggered him off balance.

I fired two more shots.