“You walked backward,” he said, pain in his voice. “Made me think the TEV was glitching and had switched to rewind mode. So, like a dummy, I holstered my gun to tune the dial. Mistake on my part.”
I felt my chin. My fingers came back bloody. “I probably would have done the same thing. Did you see me hobo the train?”
Teague got to his feet. “Missed that. I did see you kill half a million people, though.”
“You know that wasn’t me, Teague.” I raised my fists and took a step toward him. “Did you set all this up?”
“WTF are you talking about?”
He looked truthful. But he’d also looked truthful when he swore he was over Vicki, when later I saw her, topless, as a screen saver on his DT. That resulted in another fistfight that left each of us with various broken extremities.
I stepped forward, feinting with my right, jabbing with the left, and pounding him on the side of the head. He staggered. I followed it up with a tight spin-kick, connecting with his chest, knocking him down.
Pressing my momentary advantage, I rushed at Teague, swatting away his kicking legs, joining the fight on the ground by grabbing him under his right armpit and around the neck in a reverse half nelson. Teague and I were even when trading punches, but I was a better grappler. I dug my feet in, pushing him over, trying to jam his face into the dirt path. If I could force him onto his belly, get his arm into a hammerlock, I could hyperextend his elbow or pop out his shoulder.
Teague arched his back, resisting the move. I squeezed his throat with my hand, but it was like squeezing steel cable. Then, surprisingly, he grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me out of position, clenching me in a bear hug. I felt his chest muscles flex and realized I’d made a mistake.
“I’m gonna break you in half, bro.”
Teague was on steroids.
It seemed that everyone these days but me was taking roids. Teague was bigger, and much stronger, than the last time we’d tussled. Instead of ignoring him at work, I should have been paying closer attention. Based on the size of his chest, he’d gained at least fifty pounds of muscle mass.
And I’d stupidly brought the fight to the ground.
I went low, reached for his balls. He twisted he pelvis away from my hand, crushing my chest even harder. I couldn’t inhale, and the oxygen still in my lungs was getting squeezed out like a tire pump. Bright motes popped up in my vision, a precursor to unconsciousness. I grabbed Teague’s side, digging my fingers into his oblique muscle, fighting the striations to pinch his kidney.
Teague grunted. I pinched harder, the motes swimming around and beginning to fade into darkness. Finally, he moaned and shoved me away. I rolled several body lengths from him, sucking in air. I managed to get to my feet, but I was wobbly, like I’d taken too many whiskey pills.
“Why’d you do it, bro?” Teague had his hand pressed to his side, but I knew he wasn’t asking me about his kidney.
“I didn’t. And you know I didn’t. Or else you would have brought the cops with you.”
Teague spat over his shoulder. “Maybe I had another reason for not bringing the cops.”
I followed the line of thought. “You want to kill me, Teague? Is that it?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Vicki already rejected you. It doesn’t matter if I’m in the picture or not. You still won’t get her.”
Teague snarled, launching himself at me. I blocked two wild punches and then hit him in the kidney. He flinched, and I followed up with a right cross to the jaw, my numb hand not feeling the contact. He countered with a right jab, popping me in the solar plexus, driving me to my knees.
“This isn’t about Vicki,” he said, towering over me. “This is about you betraying me. You knew I loved her, and you went behind my back.”
“So you’re going to kill me because I chose a woman over our friendship?”
“I’m not going to kill you, bro. I’m going to bring you in, and let the system take care of you.”
I held up my palms. “I didn’t murder that old woman, Teague. And I didn’t destroy Boise.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. I’m sure the truth will prevail in court.”
He threw a roundhouse that would have knocked my head off if I hadn’t ducked. I tucked and rolled to the left. On my feet again, I took a running jump at Teague. He covered up, but rather than attack I snagged the corn net over my head. When the kick didn’t come, Teague dropped his hands. That was when I kicked him, hard as I could, in the side of the head. He spun a hundred and eighty degrees, and I dropped onto his back. I locked my fingers around his chin, dug my knee into his spine, and yanked with everything I had.