Ryan managed to get his right arm free. That freed up space for a breath, and to wriggle his left arm from the giant’s viselike grip. Now with both hands free, Ryan jabbed a finger into one of Mog’s eyes. The big man turned away quickly, though, and instead of his eye, Ryan found himself trying to poke a hole through the hard bone of Mog’s skull.
The crowd was beginning to shout “Mog! Mog! Mog!”
Ryan took another breath, perhaps his last, then reared back with both hands and boxed Mog’s ears as hard as he could.
Immediately the man’s grip loosened.
Ryan gulped at the sweet, sweet air as it rushed into his open mouth and down into his needy lungs.
But Mog didn’t let go.
So Ryan boxed his ears again.
Mog stumbled, then finally released Ryan, putting his hands to his ears as if it might do something to ease the ringing pain.
When Ryan hit the ground, another bolt of pain slashed through his body. He rose slowly, his eye always on the big man.
Mog was still stumbling, trying to keep his balance when all the balancing mechanisms inside his head had been scrambled. But as the seconds passed, the giant was recovering, shaking off the pain and noise inside his head, and readying himself to fight again.
Ryan knew he couldn’t get in close to the man and survive. His only chance was lightning-fast attacks, darting in and striking a blow, then moving back just as quickly to a safe distance.
And with such a tactic, Ryan had to choose a target that was most vulnerable so his efforts would have the greatest effect. With that in mind, Ryan looked at Mog’s dangling penis and testicles and knew exactly what he had to do.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Ryan stepped forward and launched a kick into the soft flesh between the big man’s legs. There was a satisfying smack of flesh on flesh, and then Ryan could feel his foot come up against the man’s pelvic bone.
After the kick was delivered, Ryan pulled back, only to see Mog double over in pain. Vomit and drool leaked out of the side of his mouth, and he seemed to be struggling to catch his breath.
This was Ryan’s chance to finish off the big man. But his earlier idea of removing the weapons from the ring had been slightly premature. Without a knife or sword, he’d be hard-pressed to chill the giant with just his bare hands. Mog had enough strength to brush Ryan aside if he tried to smash his head on the ground or tried to strangle him with a choke hold.
He needed a weapon.
Even a chain would be of some help.
Ryan looked to the edge of the circle and had an idea. He’d thrown all of the weapons out of the circle, so they couldn’t be used against him, but what about the circle itself?
Ryan stepped up to one of the posts that staked out the perimeter of the circle and undid the chain connected to it. Then he went two posts over and undid the chain there, leaving a single post with chains on either side of it.
He pulled the post out of the ground, turned the pointed end toward Mog and charged across the circle.
Mog’s eyes opened wide. He was still in pain, and still unable to stand upright. He turned to the right and brushed aside Ryan’s thrust with his left hand.
The crowd was cheering on Mog. He had been their champion for a long, long time, and he was showing he had the strength and ability to take a beating and survive the circle. Ryan realized that if he didn’t deliver the final blow soon, the big man would have had time enough to recover from his injuries.
When that happened, he’d be like a bear awakened from a deep sleep, fireblast mad and looking for payback.
Ryan turned the post around and held it by the pointed end, leaving the blunt end with the chains exposed. Then he spun the post over his head so centrifugal force would extend the chains to their full length. The post was four feet long, and the chains measured another six, giving Ryan a reach of more than ten feet. But more importantly, the chains were whipping around at lightning speed and when they struck something soft—like the back of Mog’s legs— it would feel like a hammer blow.