should be. He caught sight of Johnny ducking a punch from Mr Black and swinging back with a kick to his stomach. This wasn’t the movies, this was real, Ethan realized, and if he let this gorilla get the advantage, he was screwed. The man was heavier and stronger and would probably rip his head off quite happily before attacking Johnny again. So he couldn’t let Mr Blond get the upper hand. He wasn’t one for fighting dirty, but under the circumstances, he reckoned ‘dirty’ was his only option. There were no rules here, no referee to call foul. All that mattered was survival.
He figured his best option was to hang on and try to do some damage at the same time. And that meant going for the face. Ethan could feel adrenaline burning through him as he clawed upwards with his hands, found an eye-socket, and pushed a thumb in hard.
The man staggered backwards with an agonized yell. Ethan pushed harder and then stretched across to reach the other eye.
Mr Blond twisted and turned, reaching round for Ethan, but Ethan knew what would happen to him if he let go, so he just dug in harder and scrambled higher.
As Mr Blond continued to try and prise Ethan off his back, Ethan felt the damp warmth of blood on his hands. He held on for as long as he could, but with his hands now wet with blood, he finally slipped and fell to the ground.
Mr Blond bellowed with anger, but Ethan was up super-fast and onto his back again, this time reaching for his ears and twisting as hard as he could. The man stumbled left and right, screaming, swearing and clutching the sides of his head as blood poured down from his damaged ears. Ethan scrabbled for the face again – but with the weight on his back, Mr Blond finally stumbled, lost his footing and fell.
Ethan’s world went dark as the man landed on him, slamming the air out of his lungs like he was a burst bag of crisps.
Then there were lights. Stars bursting everywhere. Blinding him.
Ethan was trapped under Mr Blond and gasping for air. The weight of the man was ridiculous – like he was made of lead. Ethan tried to wriggle out from under him, but he couldn’t budge, so he grabbed his ears again and hoped that would be enough to get him to move. Mr Blond bellowed and Ethan pulled harder. The man clawed at Ethan’s hands and swore.
Ethan tried to crane his head round to see Johnny. Unfortunately Mr Black seemed to have his friend pinned in the dirt, arms pulled out to the sides and trapped under his attacker’s knees. As Ethan watched, the man raised his head and brought it down with a crack on the side of Johnny’s forehead. Johnny struggled no more and Ethan knew he was out cold.
Where the hell is Sam? he wondered. Just where the hell is he? It felt as though he and Johnny had been fighting for hours, though he knew it could only have been minutes. Desperation gripped him and he kicked out, bucking his body like he was being electrocuted. Mr Blond rolled to the right and Ethan could finally breathe again. He dragged himself to his feet and tried to catch his breath as the man started to pull himself to his knees. Blood was running from his ears and eyes and dripping over his shirt. He looked up at Ethan, snarled. Mr Black was turning as well now, and Ethan could see that Johnny was still out for the count.
Ethan knew this was it. If he let Mr Blond hit him, he was a dead man. And, probably, so was Johnny. So he kicked Mr Blond in the groin with his left foot. Then again. The man doubled over.
Ethan didn’t think twice: he sent another boot in, and launched the guy backwards, his head slamming into the ground. Ethan stumbled forwards, ready to go in again if need be, but it was clear Mr Blond wouldn’t be getting up for a while. He was out cold.
Ethan spat blood and looked over at Johnny. He was relieved to see him moving, albeit slowly. Then he looked up at Johnny’s attacker. The man was as big as Mr Blond, if not bigger. And he was smiling. He looked at Ethan and beckoned him forward with a wave of the hand.
Ethan was knackered. He didn’t know if he’d survive another