Chapter 11

"Oh I don't think so." John started to protest, but the hand increased the pressure and suddenly there were more arms grabbing him and wheeling him towards the ring.

"What's the matter Kennex? I thought you liked picking fights."

As John was moved towards the ring he saw the others pulling the last contestant away. His head was hanging at an unnatural angle, his neck snapped, he'd been almost twice the size of John.

The crowd was getting excitable at the prospect of the next fight. Bets were being taken, and hurriedly scribbled on bits of paper, John wasn't sure what the odds were but from the snippets of overheard conversation he could tell that the odds were not in his favour. And then he was given a shove and he staggered into the ring coming face to face with his opponent.

He recognised him as Hannity, the man who had been giving him grief about Dorian on his first visit. The man's thick set face cracked into a wolfish grin as he saw who he was getting to fight next. John squared his shoulders and tried to look less afraid than he was. He remembered the look on Dorian's face when he'd run the man's rap sheet, but he really didn't need any more proof than the blood splatters on the floor and the dead man they'd pulled away, for him to know how dangerous this man was.

"John Kennex!" The man grinned, he held his hands up in a boxing stance. John mimicked him, planting his feet, bending his knees slightly and bringing his hands up to protected his face. The two men started to circle each other like professional fighters. John glanced at his broken hand in its plastic splint. Whatever happened next, it was going to hurt. "Remember, when I told you I could fuck you like a machine?" Hannity taunted, "It might be sooner than you think."

The huge man stepped forward and swung his meaty fist at John's head. John ducked and danced out of the way on nimble feet. Another swing and John ducked again, jabbing with his left hand at the man's solar plexus as he twisted away. The third swing and John lifted his arm and blocked it but Hannity followed it up with a left hook which caught John along his jaw. It was a glancing blow with a less dominant hand, as John rolled into the punch, but even then, it was enough to see stars. He staggered back out of the man's fighting arc to recover himself and could hear the crowd roar with enthusiasm at the hit. This man was slow and predictable but powerful, John knew he'd be unable to outbox him, other tactics would be required.

John ducked another hit and brought his left hand up into an uppercut, clacking Hannity's teeth together, he looked like he'd barely felt it. But without missing a beat, John stamped down on his foot with his left, pinning the man so he couldn't get away and then kneeing him in the crotch with his right, more powerful leg. He grabbed the man by the neck and forced him to bend over, drawing his knee up a second and a third time and connecting with the man's face. To get out of the hold, Hannity swung his fist again wildly, catching John on the back of his neck and causing him to break his hold. The crowd's excitement grew as both men staggered back, Hannity's nose was crushed and bleeding and he spat a thick glob of blood on the floor. There was some cheering at the sight of first blood being drawn but more concern as people realised their bet may not have been as much of a sure thing as expected.

"Still think you're going to fuck me up Hannity?" John taunted. He was never one for trash talking but he hoped that if he made the man angry he'd make another mistake. They started circling each other again. John swung out with his right fist, knowing that the man would bat his arm away, but leaving him open for another left-handed hit to his side. The man grunted but it barely seemed to affect him. John frowned, this fighting left-handed was awkward, he wasn't nearly as strong with this side.

Another punch and John side stepped it, Hannity's momentum brought him forward and John brought and elbow down between the man's shoulder blades. Good thing I'm fast, John thought to himself with a hint of a smile, come one White Cheetah! The smile was wiped from his face as Hannity swung round and grabbed him round the waist, actually managing to lift him off his feet before throwing him to the ground. All the air was knocked from John's lungs as he hit the concrete floor on his back, his head cracking back against the ground. Hannity loomed over him, intending to pummel him into the ground, but John drew both legs up and kicked him away and he staggered back into the crowd.

John rolled over onto his knees coughing as he tried to wheeze air back into his abused lungs, his head swimming. He watched as Hannity recovered his footing, the crowd propelling him back into the ring. But John also noticed a hand slip him something which he hid in his palm.

"Hey, where's the umpire?" John shouted, looking round as he staggered to his feet. "Pretty sure those betting on me want a fair fight."

The crowd laughed. "What?" someone cackled, "you're in a prison death match and you thought there'd be rules? You should have got yourself some friends Kennex."

Hannity set upon him again, John moved out of the way, so that the next punch missed his face. It caught his arm instead and he felt a sharp pain as something slashed across his bicep. The crowd cheered like their team had just scored a touchdown. There was no time to check it, his arm still worked so he concentrated on trying to disarm his opponent. The man was coming at him furiously now, slashing back and forth with the small shiv he had. It was all John could do to stay out of his way. He grabbed at John's head, clamping down on his shoulder, John twisted away but not before he felt another punch, this time to his kidney and felt the short, sharp blade sink into his flesh. John ripped himself away and used the momentum to deliver a vicious roundhouse kick.

The kick caught Hannity in the face, spraying teeth and bloody saliva as he twisted under the impact. The thug's heavy body came crashing down to the floor, face first. John darted forward and kicked the shiv out of his hand. He'd intended to snatch it up for himself but he was too close to the crowd and someone's hand darted out and disappeared it into the mass of inmates. John had expected Hannity to get up, had pulled himself back into the ready stance expecting more, certainly not wanting to get too close to the man in case it was a trap. But when he didn't move, John very carefully stepped forward and flipped him over with his foot. As Hannity was turned onto his back, dead eyes stared upwards, marred by the blood that poured from the wound in his head.

There was some cheering but mostly a collective growl as the fight organiser shouted out, "Kennex wins!" to his captive audience, and his lackeys started to collect their winnings.

Kennex was breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest as he took stock of the situation, marvelling at the fact it wasn't him lying in a pool of his own blood. He glanced at his back, finding his white vest soaked through with blood from the knife wound. He started to push his way out of the crowd when they closed ranks on him leaving him trapped in the ring.

"What is this? Some sort of gladiatorial shit? Twenty-one fights to win my freedom?" John growled at the fight promoter who had come into the ring at the first sign that John was trying to leave.

"Something like that." The man laughed. "You've proved to be quite entertaining, and my audience is hungry for more." He spun round to address the crowds of people. "Aren't you hungry for more?" He yelled and received a resounding cheer that echoed throughout the prison.

"Tell you what, how about I let you catch your breath. Taking down Hannity can't have been easy." He cocked his head, signalling to a couple of goons in the crowd. They came forward dragging the next hapless victim between them. John's heart sank when he realised it was Adam. The skinny boy was dumped in the middle of the ring and the thugs stepped back. He looked equal parts terrified and furious.

"I'm not fighting him." John said indignantly.

"You're right. How about I even the odds a bit." The man reached into the crowd and brought out a large kitchen knife which he handed to Adam. Adam gripped it tightly in a shaking hand.

John frowned, "You won't get a fight out of us. How about I fight you instead? Bet that'll entertain your fans."

The fight organiser smiled, "Very funny, but no besides, Adam wants to fight you, don't you Adam?"

John turned to look at the teenager. "Come on Adam, you don't want to do this." John pleaded.

"Yes I do! You were going to use me to screw my brothers." Adam yelled at him. The crowd loved it, jeering and baying for blood.

"Your brothers screwed themselves. I was only trying to save lives." John said in a low voice.

"Kill him!" Someone shouted. Adam looked hesitant, so a chant started up, and soon the whole audience was chanting "Kill him, kill him." John watched him as he gripped the knife so tight his knuckles were white. Then someone shouted, "Come on pussy! Do it for your brothers!" Adam screamed and ran at him.

John watched him coming, and side stepped him, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, clamping down on it to stop him from using the knife. Adam swung a punch, but John put his hand out and blocked that too, batting his fist away. Another attempt at a punch and another deflection. "Come on Adam," John whispered. "You don't want to do this. You're not a killer." He squeezed his thumb into a pressure point at his wrist, making him drop the knife.

John bent down to pick the knife up, but as he did, someone from the crowd kicked at him in the back, aiming for the bloody knife wound that Hannity had inflicted. John was unbalanced and went sprawling onto his hands and knees. It hurt enough that John's vision greyed out and he had to take deep breaths to control it. Adam snatched the knife up again, just as John staggered to his feet.

"Think about this Adam." John spoke with a calmness he didn't feel.

Adam stepped towards him, swinging his knife in a wide arc. He was trembling and looked ready to cry but he was determined as well. He kept stepping forward and whipping the knife back and forth in the air between them, forcing John to take steps back to get out of his way. Suddenly, John was backed up against the wall of onlookers. His hands were down by his side and then he felt someone slip a shiv into his hand. John couldn't take his eyes off of Adam to see who'd handed it to him but rather than use it he slipped it into his pocket, then holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, making sure that Adam had seen him pocketing the weapon.

"I'm still not going to hurt you Adam. And you don't want to hurt me."

"You can't tell me what I want."

"Okay, so you kill me. Then what happens? You fight someone who'll fight you back? You think you'll last against any of these guys here?" He waved his arms around for emphasis.

John could see then that he'd got to him. Adam dropped the knife down to by his side.

"That's better." John then pulled shiv he'd been given and he spun round and turned it on the crowd, realising a little late that he shouldn't move so fast, the room spinning. "Now, let us out of here." He commanded.

As he looked through the sea of faces, he noticed Corcoran, the old dirty cop that had worked with his dad. John realised it had to have been him that had given him the shiv. The old man stepped back revealing a break in the crowd and John took it. As he stepped through, brandishing his blade, others parted for him too. He kept an eye on Adam, thankfully he was taking his lead and following him, waving the kitchen knife at anyone who looked at least slightly threatening.

John tried to look menacing but the blood was seeping down his back and he was feeling dizzy. He faltered and would have crashed to his knees but someone grabbed his arm and steadied him. He looked up into the face of Guerrero who gave him a grim smile. Guerrero held him subtly by the elbow and together the three of them left towards their cell. John could hear someone, he thought it was Corcoran, suggest that they get a real fight this time, and the crowd turned their attention back to the ring, leaving them alone.

John got as far as the stairwell where he sat down heavily. Adam stood beside him quietly, looking sheepish. Guerrero peered at John's back and made a face. "Ey, cabrón, you're bleeding all over."

John nodded wearily, "I'll be fine." He stood up and started towards where he had left the guard and two nurses, but he staggered and Guerrero grabbed him again.

"Hey, where you going?"

John looked at the two young inmates, trying to decide whether he could trust them or not. In the end, he realised he had little choice.