Page 341 - TheRedSon_PrintInterior_430pp_5.5x8.5_9-22-2019_v1

His fist struck like a hammer, pulping gums and ejecting
several teeth, freeing blood into the sheltered darkness. I
needed to demonstrate my mettle, become the stanch anvil
the hammer was struck against, and so I proved worthy of
his first blow—I still stood, if only barely. Unfortunately,
the same could not be said after his succeeding attack. I
was thrown from the floor and sent crashing into the damp
stone, my bones screaming their limits, my mind exploding
into sparks of pinwheeling awareness. His third blow struck
the wall, ancient rock yielding to an oversized fist, as I’d
recovered enough to sidestep. Lurching forward, I launched
my own oversized fist back into the fray, where it collided
with rows of exposed, raw-red teeth—Father’s perpetual
rictus grin. He was every inch unfazed, if dispossessed of
several of his own teeth.
Every bit my father’s son, it was my second blow that
took him from the earth. He smashed through a nearby
support beam, bringing some of the ceiling down, roaring
indignation through dust and collapsing wood. Not wasting
a second on the spectacle, I charged through the avalanche,
leaping up and delivering an airborne kick—all my weight
and strength, doubled by inertia—squarely into his chest.
The giant flew backwards into the blackness of an adjoining
room. Silence again.
I couldn’t afford to lose my momentum, which was my
father’s hope. I rushed into the room, prepared to seize and
smash whatever I came upon. My father had always been
an enigma to me—his scars, his monstrous demeanor—
but, even more than that, his violence. It was anarchy.
One moment he was raging, the next, cold as winter stone,
effecting no predictable cadence to his chaos. Here was no
different. As I charged into the room, a soft encumbrance
met with my left foot, tripping me face-first into the wall.
More rattling teeth and bones. I had neglected to notice the
huge foot sticking out, patiently waiting for me to run into it.
My father was as much fox as wolf.
344 | Mark Anzalone