The Sanctuary

29

DANNY TOOK A step back at the order. Kill Randell.

Slane’s body lay facedown in a pool of his own blood. The man with the broken ankle was dragging himself away from the body. Randell’s face twisted into a pitted ball of rage.

Danny took another step back.

“Kill him, or I’ll kill you and she’ll be all alone out there, twisting in the wind.”

Renee…

Panic lapped at Danny’s mind. He could not kill Randell. He could, yes he could, but in doing so he would become only another monster, and a monster could not love Renee.

Randell took the matter out of Danny’s hands, no doubt certain that if he didn’t kill Danny, Bostich would shoot him too.

He roared and rushed.

Danny’s first instinct was to take the man down. Doing so would have been a simple matter. But Randell was built like an oak and wouldn’t fall for a simple disabling maneuver again. Danny would have to use force. A lot of it.

His mind scrabbled, grasping for a way out of the warden’s impossible game. All he could think of was a fist to the man’s throat.

But no, he would crush Randell’s windpipe.

His opponent came in like a bull, fists up like hammers, and Danny skipped backward on the balls of his feet.

“Don’t do it, Bruce,” he breathed. “It’s no good!”

“Fight!” the warden shouted. “Kill him!”

“Kill him, Danny!” Kearney shouted. Other prisoners joined in, their mutters and jeers encouraged by the warden’s own order. Randell was the enemy to most of them. They all wanted to see his blood on the ground.

They, too, wanted justice.

“Kill him, Danny!” Pape shouted over the din. “Rip his head off!”

This was their coliseum and Danny was their gladiator.

But he would not kill Randell. There was only one way.

Danny ducked out of Randell’s reach and stopped ten feet from the warden, eyes on the raging bull.

He held out one hand. “Hold on!”

Randell came on, but he slowed.

“Just hold on!” Danny snapped.

The man was panting, blinking the sweat from his eyes. Desperate to survive.

Danny lowered his guard. He started for the larger man, arms at his sides.

“Let’s at least make this fair,” he said.

Now only four paces from Randell.

“I can’t in good conscience simply kill you. You first. Hit me.”

Two paces.

“Hit me with everything you have, you dumb oaf!”

Randell closed the last step, drew his fist back and threw his full weight into a full swing at Danny’s head.

He let the blow come, knowing that he was flirting with death. But he saw no other way.

The man’s fist landed on his temple, snapping Danny’s head to the side and back.

The darkness came quickly, and his contact with the concrete shut off the world. Danny lay on his back, at their mercy.