Free Hive Invasion by James Axler Page B

trickle of blood from his nose.
    The man stopped, now looking at Jak again. “Reevaluating initial observation of mutant. Reflexes and strength both demonstrated at abnormally high levels. Suggest obtaining him as well before departure. Resetting adrenaline levels in anticipation of possible conflict during subdual.” Oddly, his nose, like his fingers earlier, had already stopped bleeding.
    “What the hell, Ryan! Are we setting up pit fights now?” J.B. asked from his corner.
    “Got a weird situation,” Ryan replied. “Jumpsuit here’s trying to leave, but he keeps spouting stuff about Jak and me.”
    He nodded to the albino. “Take him down, but make sure you keep him alive. We’re going to get some questions answered afterward.”
    A thin, feral smile creasing his features, Jak nodded and started advancing on the man, who stood motionless as he approached. “Not go anywhere,” he said, then immediately lashed out with a right fist, aiming for the guy’s cheek to stun him before moving in to finish him off.
    Only that wasn’t what happened.
    Instead, Jak missed.
    The man moved his head aside just enough so that Jak’s callused hand grazed his ear. While he did that, his left hand shot up to try to grab Jak’s wrist, while his right hand pistoned forward into Jak’s stomach. The combination of dodge and riposte were so fast they blurred together into one single action, faster than Jak, Ryan or J.B. had ever seen.
    Even so, Jak managed to move out of the way of the punch so the man’s fist glanced off his ribs. “Son of a—” He backed off a step, dancing on his feet, bobbing and weaving back and forth. Two angry spots of pink colored his high, pale cheeks. “Done playin’!”
    “Don’t kill him, Jak,” Ryan warned.
    The albino shook his head, making his snow-white hair sway back and forth. “Won’t—just put him down hard.”
    He came in fast this time, a blur of motion. Feinting high to draw the man’s attention, Jak dropped into a crouch and swung his leg out in a roundhouse sweep, intending to knock the man off his feet, then take him out with a punch to the face.
    But again he was thwarted. Committed to his sweep, his feral look of glee turned to disappointment as the man stepped over his swinging leg even as he leaned down to hook it with his arm. Using Jak’s momentum against him, he brought the leg up and pushed it back, sending the skinny kid over onto his buttocks.
    Kicking free, Jak kept rolling, turning the takedown into a somersault so he could land on his feet. That was good, because the man wasn’t stopping either. He advanced on his smaller opponent and tried to grab him again, this time at the scruff of the neck. Jak batted the incoming arm away with a swat and followed that up with a ram’s-head punch to the man’s shoulder, staggering him.
    “Shouldn’t we help him?” Mildred, who had been awakened by the commotion, asked.
    “Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Jak doesn’t need any,” J.B. replied.
    “What about the hundredth?” she asked.
    “Still waiting to see it,” he replied. “Although this guy’s giving him a decent run for his money.”
    Jak darted close to the man and fired several short punches into the right side of his rib cage. The blows had to have hurt—Jak heard the snap of at least one rib in the flurry—but the injury didn’t seem to slow the man in the least. He swept Jak’s fist aside and followed that up with a front kick to his chest that knocked Jak off his feet and sent him skidding across the floor and into the two scavvies.
    “What the fuck—?” Tully asked.
    “Stay down!” Wincing, Jak got up again, moving a bit slower now.
    “You still got him?” Ryan asked.
    “Damn right!” Fixing the man with a venomous stare, Jak took two steps forward and leaped into the air, his combat boot–shod feet lancing out to crush the man’s sternum.
    The man grabbed Jak’s feet with both hands and started to pull him to the floor. That,