Rebels
Page 17
Chapter 17
Each round becomes more challenging, but the results are the same. I win and go on to the next standoff. What becomes apparent is, that as well conditioned as these other young men are, they are not prepared mentally. It is evident when things are not going their way, they try to rely on their raw strength, which means they have already lost. One by one, I tactically beat them, having watched their previous fights, learning their basic strategies. When it comes time to fight them, I know their general weaknesses. My father always told me to never underestimate your opponent. There is a total of thirty-two of us, and by early afternoon we have been whittled down to two.
I have managed to survive all of their onslaughts simply by keeping my emotions in check. But now I am in the final round between Steven and myself. We enter the steel octagon and await for the fight to begin. Both of us are a little battered but nothing that will not heal in a few days. I know this fight will be interesting, especially after having watched him in action. Of all the guys, I am not surprised to be facing him in the finals. He is always second behind me, and I know no one likes being second! We are told to begin, and so we both start, but Steven doesn’t rush me. He evidently has been watching as well. This fight should be good. As I watched him, I realize one thing: Steven tries to hurt each of his opponents. Not only does he like to win, but he likes to leave a message as well. Once we are done analyzing each other, we engage with a flurry of kicks and punches, some connecting and others missing their mark. Steven does a front thrust kick to my chest, blowing me back. I worry momentarily about the condition of my heart.
Before I can fully recover, he runs up the chain-linked wall and does a flying roundhouse kick to my head. I have never had that move used on me, and the pain is excruciating. He obviously has saved the move for me, and it has worked. I slam into the mat and am fighting to get back to my feet, but Steven lands on top of me while I am still on my back. He proceeds to punch me multiple times, trying to incapacitate me before I can recover. I manage to block most of them while my head is trying to remember what planet I am on. I know I have to react or in a matter of seconds this fight will be over. With what energy I have left, I thrust up, grabbing one of his arms and pull him forward, forcing him off balance, rolling him to my right side, off my body. I scramble to my feet and prepare for his onslaught. At this point, Steven is eager, knowing I am hurt. But remember, sometimes wounded animals are the most dangerous.
He is overzealous. I allow him to think I am still disoriented. He comes in, unprepared for the right elbow that connects to his temple. I throw a roundhouse kick to his leg, stunning him even further. I grab him and knee him three times in the abdomen to cause further damage. I pick him up and slam him to the ground. Now on top, I proceed to hit him multiple times but out of nowhere, Steven kicks me with the heel of his foot right in my face. He grabs my wrist, wrapping his legs around my left arm, holding firm. I can’t move it. I’m in an arm bar!
I am exhausted. I can’t believe he has the energy to do this. I see we are both in the final round for a reason. I clasp my hands together to prevent the full effect, but I can feel my fingers slipping. If this happens, my arm can be broken. This is something I do not want to experience, but I know Steven will not hesitate to do it. Steven struggles to make me lose my grip. When I do, the pain is immense, since I can feel the pressure build on my arm. I know I have only moments to either quit or reengage or have my arm broken.
I look at our small audience outside of the ring and see the other young men cheering and shouting. I see Dr. Pruitt with a concerned look on his face. Then images of my mother and father come to me. I remember the Johnson family and other people who are counting on me, and I know I need to find a way to win, a way back to my family and those I need to help. I refocus and shift my weight, enabling me to re-clasp my hands to prevent my arm from being broken. I proceed to slowly lift Steven off the mat until we are face-to-face. I will never forget the astonished look on his face as I lift him further and slam him directly into the mat with all I have left, knocking him out.
It is over and I won! Exhausted but still intact, I thank God for his help in my time of need. I see the perfect smile of my constant observer, who has not only put down his clipboard but also has joined in the applause. Dr. Pruitt comes into the cage and checks us both out and helps me to my feet.
“Well done, John,” he whispers in my ear. I head to the locker room, and he seems relieved that I had not only won but I was going to be okay.
Shortly after, we all come back out where our special visitor is waiting to address us.
“Well, I can say that you boys put on quite the show! Something the State will be real proud to hear when I go back to give my report! Your progress is quite impressive, particularly yours, John!” When I hear this I am stunned. I do not know why the State has such an interest in some typical fifteen-year-old boy.
The man continues. “Your therapy will continue and your progress is expected to increase, but let me make it clear you are not here by happenstance. You are a specialized group that will help the State and its vision in the near future! That will be all! Go get some rest; you have a lot more to do!” After this speech, he turns around, dons his green Army hat, and exits through a door.
Days pass and I can do more. One day I’m doing the exercises alone with only Dr. Pruitt. I have to pull on some weights, but again they are hidden behind a curtain. I still have no idea how much I am actually pulling. Today the weights seem to be more than normal, and I actually start to break a sweat. But I am still able perform my normal reps. When I am done, I let go earlier than I normally do. The weights slam into the ground behind the curtain and literally shake the floor.