Hair of the Dog Gordon Carroll (mobi ebook reader TXT) 📖

Clearing the cans, I turned the corner just as all two-hundred and thirty or so pounds of Jerome Larkin walked into my chest. I bounced back. He stood solid as the earth. He looked at me, his eyebrows drawing down. I looked back, just as surprised. He went for a gun just as I went for mine. His came out first and with my left hand I slapped it away. My gun was just clearing my waistband when he slapped it away. It felt like getting hit by a bulldozer blade. I punched him in the jaw with a left hook. I put my whole body into it, swinging from the hips and caught him perfectly with a meaty smack, solid and hard and it rocked his head to the side. I let my momentum carry me full circle and took his legs out from under him with a leg sweep, my shin striking him just under the calves. Jerome fell, grabbing my shoulder as he went, and I smashed down into the trash cans, scattering them. Metal lids went flying and the left side of my face crashed into the wood fence. Jerome grabbed hold of my waist and dragged me down…not good, he outweighed me by seventy pounds of pure muscle. I had to keep my distance, but it was too late for that. I let myself fall into him and punched him in the throat as I did. I tried to smash my knee into his groin, but he blocked it with his thigh and grabbed my face with one giant hand. He smashed my head into the side of a trash can and rolled on top of me, cans and trash falling onto us. He caught me in the ribs with his free hand and my bones nearly caved. He hit me again, this time in the head, and sparks exploded inside my brain. I gripped my buckle knife between the fingers of my right hand and pulled it free before plunging it into his thigh. I jerked it out and jabbed it in twice more before he swung again, missing and hitting the ground. I hooked one of his legs with mine and secured his wrist with both hands before thrusting with my hips rolling him up and over my shoulder and onto his back. Now I was on top of him again.

I punched him three fast times in the chest with the two-inch buckle knife, blood seeping through his shirt and sprinkling up at me. He tried to knock me off with knee strikes to my back, but from our relative positions he couldn’t get the leverage to put any strength into them. I hit him in the nose with my empty right fist and that seemed to make him really mad because he grabbed me by the throat with both hands, his arms were that long, and crushed in on my Adam’s apple with his thumbs. His nails sliced into my flesh and blood trickled. I sliced the outside of his right forearm and he dropped his grip with that hand, but with the other he grabbed my hair and wrenched my head to the side. I found a trash can lid and rolled to my feet, just in time to almost have my head crushed with an entire can. I ducked and blocked with the make-shift shield knocking it aside. Jerome found his own trash can lid, the thing looked like a Frisbee in his giant hand. And the two of us charged like dueling Captain Americas, only I stacked up as more of a ninety-eight pound Steve Rogers. I feinted high and went low, but he didn’t fall for it and our shields rammed with a terrific clang. The impact shook us both, but he just staggered back while I went spinning into the brick side of the house, bounced off and crashed back into the cans and trash. One of the metal cans raked up my shin, hurting like crazy and then Jerome kicked my left shoulder, numbing my whole arm and making me drop the buckle knife. Lucky for me, he wore athletic shoes. If it had been pointed boots he would have shattered my bones. I grabbed for his legs, missed, took a kick to the stomach, rolled into him and he fell down onto and over me. I twisted under him as he punched down into my knee. I reached over his bald head and hooked his nostrils with two fingers. I tore back as hard as I could, his neck craning to relieve pressure, and felt flesh tear. He elbowed back, catching me in the solar plexus, knocking all my wind out and making the world whirl as nausea rippled through me. He went for my eyes, and again his nail tore into soft skin right next to my nose, hurting like blazes. I managed to grab up my trashcan lid and smacked him in the face with it. I tried to scramble on top of him again, but he got both feet into my chest and catapulted me up and back. I landed on my shoulders and let the kinetic energy follow through so that I ended up on my knees. Jerome was already up and charging and he had his shield. I threw my lid from where I knelt, and even though it wasn’t as aerodynamic as Cap’s, it flew straight and true and hit him just above the eyes. Only it didn’t bounce back to me like in the movies. I tried the leg sweep again, but Jerome jumped over it and struck down with his lid, catching me in the juncture between my neck and shoulder. The pain and shock rocked me and everything started to go black. I crumpled, barely managing to catch myself with one hand. Jerome kicked me in the ribs and this one hit square. My