Free The Prisoner of Cell 25 by Richard Paul Evans

who Corky was only because he was always being called up onstage at the school assemblies for winning some award or another. The last thing he’d won was the State Heavyweight Wrestling Championship. He took Drew in a choke hold, then released him. “Drew-meister, what gives?”
    “Just hanging around the oasis with my little black-belt friend.”
    Corky looked me over. My head barely came to his chest. “This isn’t the guy you were talking about.”
    “He’s the man,” Drew said. “Little Chuck Norris.”
    “He’s a shrimp.”
    “Only on the outside,” Drew said. “On the inside he’s a powder keg of pain, just waiting to explode on someone.”
    Corky laughed. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? I could crush him like a bug.”
    “I’d like to see that,” said Drew. “Battle of the Titans.”
    Corky pointed a massive finger at me. “You’re talking about the little guy?”
    Drew put his arm around me. “This is exactly who I am talking about.”
    He looked at me incredulously. “C’mon, little guy,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him. “Let’s go outside and spar a little. I want to see what you got.”
    Drew laughed. “He’ll mess you up, dude. I’m not kidding.”
    “I’ve got to see this,” one of the girls said.
    “I’ve got to get Taylor a drink . . . ,” I said.
    “She won’t die of thirst,” Corky said. “C’mon, I won’t hurt you.  We’re just playing around.”
    Just then Taylor walked up. “Hi guys. Hi Cork.” She looked around. “What’s going on?”
    “Corky wants to engage the little dude in hand-to-hand,” Drew said. “Called him out.”
    Taylor looked at me, then back at Drew. “What?”
    Ostin translated. “He heard about Michael’s fight with Jack and he wants to see what Michael can do.”
    “Black belt or not, I’m going to crush him,” Corky said.
    Taylor glanced over at me with a look that said: How do you get  yourself into these things? Then, to my surprise, she said, “Awesome. Let’s do it.” She looked around then shouted. “Everyone outside! Michael’s going to take down Corky!”
    I couldn’t believe what she was saying. As we walked out amid the river of bodies I whispered, “Are you trying to get me killed?”
    “Trust me.”
    “That you will get me killed?”
    “No, I’m trying to get you out of this mess.”
    The house emptied as everyone poured out of the house into the backyard. Corky started cracking his knuckles. Ostin grabbed my shoulder. “Dude, you know you can’t use your power.”
    “I know.”
    “He’s going to kill you.”
    “I know.”
    Taylor walked to the front of the crowd as if she were the master of ceremonies. “Okay, so here’s the deal. First one knocked to the ground loses. Fair enough?”
    “Fair enough,” Corky said, bobbing a little.
    “Taylor . . . ,” I said.
    She reached into her pocket. “And here’s a twenty-dollar bill that says Michael’s going to put Corky on his back. Any takers?”
    Everyone looked at each other, but to my surprise, no one was willing to bet against her. I mean, the guy could wad me up like a piece of paper and shoot me out a straw. Taylor looked at Corky. “C’mon, Corky. You’re going to crush him, right? Where’s your money?”
    He looked at her hesitantly. “I don’t have my wallet . . .”
    “In fact, let’s make it sweeter. The loser has to wear my skirt to school on Monday.”
    I looked at her. Now I was sure she was trying to get back at me for shocking Tim at the game.
    “All day. And, he has to carry the other’s books and tie his shoes.”
    To my surprise Corky was suddenly looking very nervous.
    “Come on, Corky,” Taylor said. “He’s half your size. On the other hand, there’s only one of you. The last time I saw him, he had three guys on their backs begging for mercy. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” Taylor turned back to face the crowd, who had formed a half circle around them.