Dweller - Jeff Strand [19]
Both Larry and Nick drew back their fists at the same time.
Toby was aware of the phenomenon where time seemed to slow down at moments like these, but he’d never personally experienced such a thing. Yet time did indeed seem to slow down, and Toby imagined how this could be a turning point in his entire life.
Just before Larry’s fist struck his chin, he’d block the punch with his palm. The color would drain from Larry’s face as Toby wrapped his fingers around his fist. He’d catch Nick’s fist in the same way. Both bullies would gape at him with their pale white faces and let out a simultaneous whimper.
“Please do not crush our hands!” Larry would beg.
But the time for pleading would have long since passed. Toby would wink at the audience of students, and then squeeze with but a mere fraction of his strength. Their hands would ooze through his fingers like Silly Putty. Nick would pass out from the excruciating pain, but Larry would hang on, eyes bugging out of his head.
“Have mercy,” he’d whisper. “Please, Toby, show mercy to your inferiors.”
And there would be mercy. But not for a few more minutes.
Toby’s fantasy came to an abrupt end as his perception of the world—still moving in slow motion—narrowed to include only the sight of Larry’s fist speeding toward his cheek.
The slow motion ended.
The punch felt like it split open the entire right side of Toby’s face. He fell to the ground and instantly knew that any dignity he’d salvaged from this situation would soon be history, because there was going to be some crying involved. He couldn’t even conceive of a punch to the face hurting this badly without brass knuckles involved. At least he’d only felt one punch—Nick had clearly missed.
The two bullies hovered over him. “Do you give up?” Larry asked.
Of course he gave up! Toby nodded.
Nick crouched down, grabbed Toby’s arms, and pulled him to his feet. Then he wrenched Toby’s arms behind him, holding him in front of Larry.
“Mess him up!” Nick urged.
Larry punched Toby in the stomach, so hard that he thought he was going to puke up his peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich from lunch. Instead, he dryretched and tried unsuccessfully to find enough breath to beg Larry not to hit him again.
The next punch was to the left side of his face. There were a couple of audible gasps.
Another punch to the face. It felt like bone cracked.
Larry no longer looked simply angry. The expression on his face was wild, crazed, closer to insanity than fury. He punched Toby in the stomach again, and Toby realized that he genuinely meant to hospitalize him. Or kill him.
His protest was cut off by the blow to the jaw. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with blood.
Yet another punch, and an actual scream from one of the girls watching. Spittle dangled from Larry’s lower lip. He drew back his fist for another blow.
“Stop it!” Helen shouted. “This is way out of control!”
With the next punch, Toby felt consciousness starting to slip away.
“I said stop it! You’ll kill him!”
“Yeah, this is too much,” said Nick, releasing Toby’s arms. Toby felt as if he were floating in space for a moment, and then his face struck the ground. He just wanted to sleep.
“Fine, whatever,” said Larry. He lifted his foot as if to stomp on Toby’s skull, then apparently changed his mind and lowered it again. “Let’s get out of here.”
The bullies walked away. Toby lay on the ground, bleeding and crying and not really caring who judged him. He was vaguely aware of some classmates helping him up, and he may even have spoken to them as they helped him get home, but he couldn’t be completely sure.
Toby didn’t tell his parents or the school principal who beat him up. He didn’t need to. There were plenty of witnesses, and somebody (Toby hoped it was Helen, but he had no idea who it actually was) ratted about exactly who was involved.
Nick was suspended for a week. Larry was set to be expelled, but Larry and his parents made the case that Toby had instigated the conflict