Page 104 of Storm over the Caribbean
Wham!
The massive pirate’s fist slammed Mr Ambrose’s empty hand to the left while his knife hand trapped my husband’s weapon on the right. That left Mr Ambrose wide open. Instantly, Cyclops’ knee lashed out.
“Ugh!”
Grunting, my husband doubled over as the knee buried itself into his gut. Before he could right himself, Cyclops’ intertwined fists slammed onto his back, driving him down to the ground.
“Stay down, bastard! Down in the dirt where you belong!”
“With…pleasure,” Mr Ambrose grunted.
Then he stabbed his dagger into the pirate’s foot.
“Aaaaagh!”
“Why don’t you join me?” my darling husband suggested, coolly. And, with a swift punch, he knocked his foe’s wounded leg out from under him.
“Gah!”
Cyclops slammed into the sand with a dull thud.
“What did you say before…?” Tightening his grip on his dagger, Mr Ambrose twisted, hard. “Ah, yes. Let’s end this.”
“Rrraah! You—”
“Silence!”
Rearing up above the other man, Mr Ambrose drew his fist back.
Wham!
The pirate’s scorched ruin of a head slammed back into the sand as my husband’s fist connected with his chin. And again. And again.
“I-I…will…kill…” Cyclops rasped, his sole eye gleaming with menace. “Kill…!”
“I. Said.Silence!”
Wham! Wham! Wham!
A fist to the gut. One to the chin. Another to the gut.
Wham!
A chop to the throat. Choking and hissing, Cyclops reached up to try and grab hold of my husband once again, only to have a thumb jabbed into his eye. The only eye that was still working. The yowl that rose towards the sky chilled me to the bone. In a good way. The big pirate jerked and writhed underneath MrAmbrose, trying desperately to free himself, but my Mr Rikkard Ambrose did not let go, did not relent. Once more, he took Cyclops into a choke hold, and then raised his icy eyes to meet those of the fat pirate leader, Gaptooth, on his barrel throne far above the heads of the crowd.
“You wanted me to prove myself, did you not?” Mr Ambrose’s arms made a short, sharp twist. There was a crack in the air, as if from a breaking branch. But the thing that had broken was no branch of any kind. With a thud, the limp body of Cyclops dropped to the ground. “Proof delivered.”
There was a long, long moment of silence.
Then the fat pirate erupted into a guffaw. Slapping his leg, he laughed and laughed and laughed, his grotesque belly wobbling in rhythm with his laughter.
“Good!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Very good!”
Other pirates started to join in, cheering and shouting for how amazingly brutally the new member of the crew had just slaughtered one of their compatriots.
Mr Ambrose rose, directing a challenging gaze at the leader. “So, I’m in?”
Gaptooth nodded, his triple chin juggling. “You won your fight. You’re in.”
