Tom Schreck - TKO

Al was on to something and we were now in a full run, heading toward a patch of trees. He stopped to shit, which was usually a sign that he was very close. While he curled his haunches, I could hear the rustling behind us-now it was clear enough to hear actual strides running through the brush. I turned and heard something but saw nothing.

Al finished up and moved toward the patch of trees, gaining acceleration. The sun had set and it was actually hard to control him as he darted in and out of the trees with his nose to the ground. Those short little legs may make some people laugh, but out here they were perfect equipment. He was now humming and snorting, heading to the trees, when there was a flash of light. Actually, it was two sets of lights coming from forty-five degree angles, and Al sprinted to the vortex of the lights.

“Hold it right there, Duffy.”

It was Gunner and he was pointing a gun right at my head. The light was coming from Mitchell and Harter’s SUVs. They both had guns drawn and pointed at me.

Howard was tied to a tree.

Gunner stuck his pistol into his belt and went to Harter’s car. He rummaged for a second or two and then came out and walked over to me. Whatever he was holding shimmered in the cars’ light. I couldn’t make out what he was carrying until he got closer. In one hand was a knife with a blade that was easily over a foot long. The blade was serrated in a zigzag pattern on top. In his other hand was a thin, cylindrical, metal pole, almost like an arrow, though a little bit thicker with a very sharp point.

“I’m going to enjoy spilling your blood, Duffy,” Gunner said with no expression. “Do you know how long it takes to bleed to death when your fingers get cut off one by one?”

“Harter, take the dog and let him play with the pit bull while you watch the product,” Gunner said. “Mitchell, tie the loser up.”

I watched Al get pulled into the SUV and I was powerless to do anything. Gunner was showing me the sharpened tip of his steel weapon.

“Oh, how I’m going to enjoy this,” he said.

“Too bad you’ll miss the show your dog puts on with Seagal,” Mitchell said while he duct-taped me to the tree ten feet from Howard. Howard was gagged but I could see the terror in his eyes.

Gunner came right up to my face.

“I’m going to lop off your fingers, Duff, one by one. I’ve learned to do it carefully though, so that you’ll not pass out. I don’t want you to miss the experience. Bet you’re wishing you didn’t throw that cup of coffee at me now, huh?” He laughed and I could feel my stomach wanting to heave but I couldn’t.

Gunner examined my taped-up hands, making sure his knife would be able to have access to my fingers. He congratulated Harter on a nice preparation. My mouth went dry and I could feel my body trembling all over.

“First though, Duff, I’m going to get things going by letting some blood out. This wonderful little device pierces neatly through flesh and lets the blood spill out like a faucet. Then, as I cut off a finger, you’ll be springing leaks all over the place.” Gunner’s face lost expression and he handled the arrow, examining where he would insert it in my side.

“You’re a scumbag, Gunner. Fuck you,” I said and spit whatever saliva I could muster at him.

“You’ll pay for that,” he said, and he reached for the knife. He stuck the tip just under my chin, piercing a hole in my flesh. Being tied up kept me from flinching, which somehow made the pain more intense.

Gunner took a step back to size me up, looking at me like a specimen.

“Now, the fun begins,” he said and then stepped forward.

I felt my stomach start to turn and my chest heave like I was going to pass out. Gunner was workmanlike as he looked closely at my sides. He lifted up my T-shirt and I felt his hands prod the sides of me. He stood back up and looked me in the eye.

“You’re about to pay for your sins,” he said.

There was a whistling sound of movement past my right ear and then a dull thwack sound.

Gunner’s feet were together and he stood straight up inches from my face. He gasped and reached for his eye, which was gushing blood. He had something stuck deep into his eye socket, which was now covered in scarlet and torn flesh.

There came another whistling past my ear and another thwack. Gunner grabbed his throat, which had a shiny hunk of metal stuck right in its center. His face was a distorted mess with his left eye gone and in its place a shiny hunk of metal. Blood gushed from his eye socket, and in a silent scream he coughed more out of his mouth.

“WASABIIII!!!!!” echoed through the forest. “WASABIIII!!!!”

I felt something slash through the duct tape, freeing my hands, and there in front of me, barely visible in his Nu-Breath Karateka Deep of Night ninja suit was the best karate student a sensei ever had.

Gunner’s face was streaked in his own blood and he fell face down. I could hear him choke on the combination of his own blood and the mud.

“WASABIIII!!!!!”

My head was spinning and I couldn’t control my breathing, but I looked up in time to see Billy heading toward Mitchell, who was still holding the gun. While he was distracted by Gunner’s demise, Billy jumped into a flying spinning axe kick, but he misjudged Mitchell’s distance and fell on his back. Mitchell had raised his arm in defense, and though Billy’s kick landed him on his ass, the bell-bottoms of his ninja suit had caught Mitchell’s hand and he lost the gun.

Now, it was me and Mitchell, just as I had spent the last month hoping for.

“C’mon, motherfucker. You’re about to take a beating from one of life’s big losers,” I said.

Mitchell circled me with his hands in a karate pose. I had my guard up in a boxing stance and ready.

Mitchell skipped in to throw a front kick to my groin. I pivoted left and took it on the muscle of my thigh like I did every day when Al lunged at my nuts. I used the pivot for leverage and drilled a left hand straight down the pipe onto Mitchell’s nose. I heard the familiar crackle of cartilage and he instinctively reached up to hold it. As the blood poured out him, I drilled him with a body combination.

He came back with an elbow to my temple that wobbled me a bit, and he stepped in with a chop aimed at my neck. I recovered in time and stopped him with a jab to his broken nose that I could tell hurt him. I finished with a straight left that he was able to block, and he countered me with his own hook.

This time my recoil was perfectly in place and I blocked it with my left and immediately drilled him on the point of the jaw with that same left. His head snapped around and he was out before he hit the ground.

Smitty would’ve been proud.

I told Billy to cut Howard loose and to tape Mitchell up to the tree, then we all got in the SUV and headed across the brush. Howard looked like he was in shock and he didn’t say a word while Billy was talking nonstop. I didn’t hear any of it because all I could think about was that pit bull’s jaws tearing poor Al to death.

Harter’s cell phone was fastened to the dashboard and I used it to call AJ’s. Kelley wasn’t going to be happy, but this went way beyond pissing him off. The SUV banged and bumped across the muddy field and it didn’t handle the terrain anything like it did on the TV commercials. It was a fifteen-minute ride and my heart was racing faster than the engine was.

I skidded the SUV to a stop in time to hear the fit of barking. I instructed Billy to drive toward town and look for the police. Harter had the lights on and the meditation garden was all lit up. From the distance, I could see that Al was running around and around with Seagal chasing him, growling and showing his teeth the whole way. I ran to the fence and took a running leap onto it and scaled it as fast as I could. I got toward the top and saw the layers upon layers of razor wire that would shred my hands and arms if I went through it.