Page 41 of The Slayer
Chuito’s eyes were closed during his introduction, but once the announcer was done, he crossed himself, making it obvious he had been praying. He bumped his fist against the cross tattoo on his chest and held it up as if silently asking for his brother and aunt to help him.
God, Alaine hoped they were watching!
At the referee’s urging, Chuito and the other fighter bumped fists in the center of the cage and then backed up to their corners. The two of them looked so mismatched, a clean-cut British man against Chuito, with his tattoos and dangerous glare across the cage.
Alaine held her breath, waiting for it to start.
Once it did, the commentators immediately homed in on Chuito.
“The southpaw, twenty-two-year-old Garcia in the black shorts,” one said just as Chuito stepped forward and swung for Evans. It didn’t look like Chuito hit him hard, but the announcers shouted anyway. “Oh! Right hook! You saw him warming up earlier with Clay Powers, UFC Heavyweight champion. He was fighting southpaw, but Garcia is clearly using an orthodox stance here.”
“Evans has been training to fight a southpaw,” the other announcer added. “This is significant. This is very much something out of the Cellar camp where Garcia trains. One of their strengths is strategy. They’ve clearly been working on this. Oh! Evans goes for the takedown!” Alaine still wasn’t breathing as she watched Chuito fight his way out of the other man’s hold and back up. “Garcia breaks out!”
“Garcia is not a strong ground fighter, but we’ve been seeing a heavy improvement in his ground game this past year. Evans is very quick, great footwork. Evans with the leg kick.”
Alaine covered her face, peeking through her fingers, when Chuito got kicked a second time.
“Evans with another high kick. Evans truly is one of the greatest athletes to ever be in the octagon. Garcia is a new fighter. He’s going to have a hard time competing with someone like Evans, whose skill set really is much more well-rounded. Ow! A left kick from Evans caught Garcia inadvertently! Sometimes those will slide up and get you in the groin.”
Alaine winced, thinking that was a very polite way to say this horrible man had just kicked Chuito in the balls. She covered her face again as the other fighter backed up, and the ref held out his hand, giving Chuito time to recover when he ended up on the mat.
She thought he recovered fast, and the announcers agreed.
“Garcia is a very intense fighter. We don’t see a lot of emotion from him. He’s very focused, and he wants this title. We saw in the locker room. This is very important to him.”
Those stupid announcers had no idea.
“He’s determined. We don’t see a lot of sportsmanship out of Garcia. You don’t see him reaching out to other fighters. No pats on the back. They call him the Slayer for a reason. Great jab from Garcia!” the announcer went on once the fight started again. “He is a fantastic striker. His strength is in his strikes, but Evans knows that. We see him constantly hopping out of Garcia’s reach, not letting him use those extra inches to his advantage. Another left kick from Evans. Keeping a good distance, not giving Garcia the opportunity to use that powerful left hook.”
“Or right hook. We still see him fighting orthodox, very unusual for him.”
“He’s not doing half-bad. I can see a lot of training went into his new strategy. Oh! A right hook from Garcia. Thiswasvery good strategy on the part of his camp. Evans has been preparing all these months, expecting that powerful left hook Garcia’s become known for. We’re not seeing it, but we don’t know if he’s going to pull it out. It could throw Evans off. Another kick from Evans, but we’re seeing good footwork from Garcia. He trains with Wyatt Conner too, former UFC fighter, known for amazing footwork.”
The round seemed to last forever, with the commentators rambling on about strategies and left hooks and right uppercuts and footwork. All Alaine saw once the round ended was that Chuito had a horrible cut over his right eye that his team was trying to treat in a way that looked very painful.
Chuito’s dark gaze was intense as he stared ahead; then he turned to Wyatt and said something that sounded sort of like, “Fuck this.”
“That round clearly went to Evans,” the commentators were saying as they flashed to Evans. “Garcia is just not as experienced as Evans. He doesn’t have the fights under his belt that Evans has.”
Alaine could already feel her heart dropping, but she didn’t stop praying. Hoping. Wishing with everything in her.
When round two started, she was back to peeking through her fingers.
“Nice kick by Evans,” the announcer started. “It is loud in here tonight. Evans is a very popular fighter, but you’re hearing that chant of USA. A lot of people want a win for Garcia tonight. A great uppercut from Evans!”
Chuito’s head snapped back with the last hit, but he didn’t stumble; he just bounced back, his dark eyes narrowed, his fists held up as he moved around the other fighter.
Alaine could almost see the change in him, some sort of hidden reserve of fury. She wasn’t nearly as surprised as the announcers when Chuito jumped forward.
“A powerful left! Oh! Evans is down!”
Alaine stared in shock, blinking because it wasso fast, the way that fighter just dropped flat on his back, blood covering his face.
“KNOCKED OUT COLD!”
The other fighter’s leg shook as the ref leaned over him. He was totally unconscious, his body stunned as if it didn’t know how to react. Just like that and William Evans was passed out and twitching on the mat. It was sort of horribly fascinating to watch.
“A SECOND-ROUND KNOCKOUT BY GARCIA! UFC LIGHT-HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!”
