Chapter 102

                                    

                                          
Tom's feet were firmly planted in the dirt of the base, and he got focused as soon as Tord had made it out of the base. His duffel bag was thrown off towards the exit, discarded and free from his mind for the time being. Tom sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about. He then turned his attention to the mass of people standing in opposition to him. Some were quickly moving to circle him, and he honestly knew he couldn't make it out if he ran anyway. The large man walked towards him, much too calmly. 
                          
"Hello, boy."
                          
Tom smiled, trying to hide his clear nervousness.
                          
"Dickface." He said with a confident nod. 
                          
"You ready to die?"
"Oh that's my favorite." Tord's father moved to attack him, but Tom quickly found his voice again. "But can I make a wager first?" 
                          
Tom could feel sweat pool in his fists, and clenched them to try and ignore it. He needed to focus. Because his life was on the line. He needed to make it out the large base doors, because if he didn't then there would be no future with Tord. There would be snuggling in the morning, no exhausted cuddling at night. There would be no morning breath and tired eyes, no more coffee, no more anything. 
                          
"Oh?"
                          
"Yea. So if I beat you...." He added a soft "however unlikely" before continuing. "Then I get to walk free. If you win you can do whatever you want with me. Death, torture, training. Up to you."
                          
"Okay." The man agreed quickly, and sickening confidence radiated from his tone. 
                          
Tom could see Zero in the crowd. She was giving him a weak, pleading smile. He just shrugged back at her, ignoring her evident worry. He was aware he didn't complete his training. And he knew he wasn't a solid fighter. But he had hope and he knew how to take a hit. Hopefully that was enough. 
                          
The man lunged at him again, this time much faster. And it took awhile for Tom to get a grip on the situation he had thrown himself into. He threw himself out of the way at the last second and could feel the cold air of the other man's punch rush past his face. When he turned around, getting ready to try something he saw something he wasn't expecting. A vivid image of Mr. Seas illuminated his vision. The monster's eyes were red from alcohol, and his hands held a large bottle. His splotchy green hair was glued back from his natural oil. And the small glasses on his face reflected the light, making any view of his eyes impossible. Tom felt himself gulp and a small tremor rushed down his spine. But he quickly tried to refocus. He may being seeing the worst fear of his life but that didn't mean he was going to lose. Or at least he hoped so. 
                          
Another swing came his way and he backed up again. But this time he slipped back under it into the pocket of the fight. He quickly threw an uppercut. But his wrist popped when it ran into the chin of the man. And he was quickly kneed hard enough to knock him into the ground. He was back in his mind again. A memory of the first time he got his ass kicked. Mr. Seas wasn't as big at the time. But the man had still managed to get him to the ground before kicking his stomach over and over. Afterward Tom discovered he hadn't gone for Tom's head purely to avoid visible bruises. 
                          
Tom quickly tried to roll away. Dirt was getting in his eyes and mouth and all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his head. But he eventually pushed himself back up. His eyes were teary from the dirt, and his vision showed vivid hallucinations of everything he hated. But he wasn't going to give up. Because at the end of this he had somewhere he needed to be. And that was in the arms of Tord.
                          
This time Tom was the first to advance. He quickly ran, backing up his fist as if preparing for a punch. And when the man went to grab his fist he ducked under. He slammed into the wall that was a stomach, knocking them both to the ground. He pushed himself up quickly and started to kick the mans sides. He also made sure to get some dirt in the disgusting eyes. 
                          
The man got up in a few moments, and a snarl was spread across his lips. He could hear a growl radiating toward him. Tom tried to remind himself he wasn't in his childhood home. That he wasn't stuck in the past fighting a man he had gotten free of. But he couldn't convince himself of it. The pain was real, how could the images in front of him not be?
                          
The man ran at him again, this time a kick was flung towards his head. He ducked under it, only to find a fist colliding with his face. (Imma go get watermelon one sec) Tom felt his neck undergo a myriad of pain. His body moved back in the dirt, though he stayed standing. He threw a left hook with all his might, and to his surprise it collided with the mans face. And then Tom realized how to win. This man was an overconfident douche bag. He didn't defend after combos if they seemed to work. 
                          
So he slowly started to dodge, letting the hits barely skim his body. He'd react as if he had been hurt. Tom had gotten used to being beat, whether it was from Mr. Seas of Zero. And for the first time that fight Tom felt confident. He felt like he had a chance. And the man he was battling was suddenly Tord's father. There was no green hair, no bottles. 
                          
Tom's body started to get used to the strategy, and he started to land hits. It wasn't often. In fact it was rare. And sometimes the hits didn't even seem to hurt the man. But it was progress. And that was all he needed. 
                          
Tom's body was sweaty. His knees weak and his arms were heavy. And he felt like he was gonna vomit from exhaustion, but Tord's father was getting tired. His punches were getting slower and weaker. And since the man was clearly still a level of sick he was slowly getting worse. Tom could almost go head to head with him now. He was so close to freedom that he could taste it. Or that was the blood filling his mouth, he didn't really know.
                          
Tom found himself sweeping the man's feet from under him even though it took all the energy he thought he didn't have anymore. The man smacked against the ground and popping was heard. The crowd seemed to go silent, their previous cheers evaporating. Tord's father turned around on the ground. A gun was resting in his hand, cocked and ready to shoot. Tom felt stupid. Of course the man had a gun. He was the leader of an army. He closed his eyes. He had made it so far but a gun wasn't something he could beat. 
                          
Yelling was echoing in the crowd, though he couldn't hear it through the ringing in his ears. He suddenly felt air blow past his face, and at first he assumed it was the bullet. But instead of a bang he heard a soft click. He opened his eyes to find Zero in front of him, and the Red Leader with his gun, which he now noticed still had it's safety on. He let out a sigh of relief.
                          
"The boy won. Let him go."
                          
"He has information about the army. He's a liability. Zero I may respect you, but you need to get out of the way. Otherwise two heads are gonna have a bullet go through them."
A glare off was going on between the leader and soldier, until a sigh was heard from the large man.
                          
"Go before I change my mind."
                          
Zero relaxed and picked up Tom by the collar of his shirt.
                          
"Run."
                          
Tom took off, grabbing the duffel bag he had discarded when he first got ready to fight. The grass whipped against his legs. He was free.