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Chapter 32 – So much for Mano a Mano.

Chapter 32 – So much for Mano a Mano.

[Location: Decontamination Depot t3rm1nu5 - Platform near the emergency relief valve]

A large dose of adrenaline hit Charlie’s bloodstream as he jumped to his feet and looked below him to try and find McCormick. But after frantically scanning the plant floor below, he was unable to spot him. It was easy to find a hiding place among the myriad of tanks and pipes running through the plant and McCormick must have found a good one.

“You won’t find Linda on D.D.315.” Charlie shouted. “I put her in a life-pod hours ago and shot her into space. I told her to stay there until I got this mess cleaned up.”

McCormick answered from below, “A very good idea my friend, but I walked through the dock area about thirty minutes ago and I saw the life-pod still sitting there. I had planned to use it to escape this lovely depot of yours since I’m not a pilot and wouldn’t be able to use the Elysian Fields.”

Charlie had always prided himself on his planning and preparation but it seemed that McCormick was always one step ahead. Charlie ran his grimy hands through his sweat soaked hair and huffed with frustration. He knew McCormick was armed with a knife after observing the carving job he had done on Salsbury, but he wasn’t sure if he had another weapon—maybe Jozef’s side arm perhaps. Charlie slid his firearm from its holster and set the intensity level to lethal. Then he clenched his jaw and headed for the ladder.

“Okay McCormick. No more games. Let’s get this thing settled. I’m sick of screwing around with you and this needs to be finished.” Charlie reached the top rung of the ladder, slipped his firearm into its holster, and started to climb down.

“You are a scholar and a gentleman Mr. Kennedy. A real man of character. I think you have a great idea. Come down from that ladder and let’s end this. I can’t wait to carve my name into your dead carcass.”

Charlie looked below as he climbed down, trying to identify where McCormick’s voice was coming from but he saw nothing. As he reached the bottom rung, stars exploded behind his eyes and an ocean of pain rushed from the back of his head. Charlie lost his grip and fell to the metal grate below him, his side arm popping from its holster and bouncing away.

Writhing in pain and nauseated, he slowly opened his eyes to see McCormick standing over him still wearing his green prisoner uniform. McCormick coiled the edges of his mouth into a wicked smile as he looked down at Charlie with a two-foot section of pipe in his hand. “Don’t blame gravity for this one. I take all the credit.”

McCormick’s face glowed with excitement as he held the pipe in his right hand and tapped the end of it into his left. “You may be a scholar and a gentleman, Mr. Kennedy, but you tend to do very stupid things. Trying to stop me from killing you and your wife is one of them, but as I said, being a man of character, you feel it necessary to at least try.” McCormick lifted the pipe above his head and slammed it into Charlie’s upper thigh.

The sizzle of a thousand bee stings gushed from Charlie’s leg as he rolled to get away from his attacker in full-blown survival mode. He knew he had to put some distance between himself and McCormick so he could get his bearing and mentally regroup. The pain from his head followed in step with his heartbeat as waves of blood raced through the swollen arteries that covered his skull. The feeling of piercing stings was replaced with a complete lack of sensation in his injured leg. He forced himself to his knees and began to drag his unresponsive leg behind him as he crawled across the grating.

The pipe repeatedly clanked as McCormick followed right behind, wildly swinging but missing Charlie each time. Charlie saw a large five hundred horsepower electric motor to his left and headed for it, hoping to use it as a temporary shield. When he reached the motor, he struggled to his feet and hobbled to the opposite side, out of breath and sweating profusely.

Pounding the top of the motor repeatedly, frustration overwhelmed McCormick’s face. “Do you think you can hide from me? Do you realize who I am?” Breathing heavily, he held his hand to his chest as if he was introducing himself. “My name is Harry Hell Raiser McCormick.” He straightened some of the hair that had fallen into his face. “The most notorious murderer and criminal,” he screamed as his eyes flared, “in history!”

Charlie peeked over the top of the large iron motor. “I know who the hell you are, and I’m not gonna let you get away with any of the shit you’ve done.” Then he looked around to try and locate his side arm.

Straightening his hair again, McCormick slightly smiled. “Ah yes…our friend Mr. Salsbury.” He lowered his head and shook it. “Such a stupid, stupid man.” He paused for a few seconds and exhaled, then pointed at Charlie and spilled out the facts like a reporter at a crime scene. “There, my friend, there is one brainless human being. Talking my way outta my cell, getting a hold of a steak knife, and slicing him from ear to ear was so much easier than I had expected.”

The pain coursing through Charlie’s body was slowly subsiding. “And don’t forget about the rest of your handy work. Jozef, Roy, Ruben, and we’ll add Jack to that list since you caused the mayhem in the plant that ended up killing him.”

McCormick’s head jerked back as his brow slanted. “I’ll take credit for Salsbury—and I guess Jack too; I saw his lifeless body a few aisles over—but Jozef, Roy, Rueben…that wasn’t me.” His voice took on a jagged edge as he declared, “I don’t take credit where credit isn’t due.”

Charlie was confused by McCormick’s response but figured it was just more of his lies. “Whatever. You’re a fucking murderous slug.”

A smile curled McCormick’s lips and he bowed slightly. “That I am, Mr. Kennedy. Now come out from behind that motor and let’s finish this.” The pipe clanked on the metal grate as it fell from McCormick’s hand. “I’ll even give you a sporting chance. Mano a mano. What da ya say?”

In a fist to fist brawl, Charlie had a definite advantage being about a foot taller and one hundred pounds heavier than McCormick. It would also give him a chance to locate his side arm and he would have no issue with shooting an unarmed McCormick. He would do whatever was necessary to protect Linda. No ifs, ands, or buts.

“Okay McCormick.” Charlie slowly peeked from behind the motor, limped toward McCormick, and opened his arms as if he was about to hug a friend. “You want me…you got me.” Then he lunged at McCormick and snapped a sharp right hand across his chin.

McCormick staggered backward and repeatedly blinked but stayed on his feet. He shook the cob webs from his head and swallowed hard. “Wow…that’s all you got? A big guy like you, I would have expected more.” His eyes narrowed like a cat, his lips parted, and a guttural scream erupted from deep in his lungs as he ran toward Charlie.

He wrapped his arms around Charlie and the two hit the grating with a thud. Charlie was surprised by the violence of the attack and lay there, stunned with McCormick on top of him. Quickly, McCormick pinned Charlie with his knees pressed into his chest and grabbed two handfuls of his hair. Then he began to pound Charlie’s head against the metal floor while he laughed hysterically. Dagger-like pain shot through Charlie’s head and neck as the surface dug its way into the back of his head. Charlie knew he had to retaliate, so he used all of his strength to swing his left arm and knock his opponent off of him.

Charlie lay there for a second trying to stop his vision from spiraling so he could get to his feet, but McCormick quickly jumped on top of him again and continued his assault. Adrenaline pumped through his blood vessels as he thought about Linda. If he didn’t stop McCormick right now, he knew Linda would be next on his list. Defiantly, Charlie began to punch back at McCormick and divert some of his blows. Then he slid both hands between his chest and McCormick’s knees and pushed the smaller man from on top of him. Quickly but still stunned, he moved away and awkwardly stood.

McCormick nimbly jumped to his feet and took a defensive stance as he tried to catch his breath. “For such a big guy, you’re a fuckin’ wimp. I bet my Aunt Betty could beat your ass and that bitch is dead.” Then he laughed and faked a few jabs in Charlie’s direction.

Flinching at the false attacks, Charlie balled his hands into fists in front of his face in anticipation of another assault. “I gotta say, you’re pretty quick, but once I get a hold of you you’re done for.” Memories of his Army combat training came to mind and he began to plan his own deadly strike. He knew if he wanted to protect Linda, he had to take McCormick down right now.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Kennedy. You’ve become sedentary and weak way out here in space. All you do is sit around all day and eat pie.” He puckered his lips and kissed the air a few times. “You and little wifey-poo, with your happy little home.” He tossed a few more fake jabs in Charlie’s direction. “You’re pathetic.” He reached into his side pocket and slid out the steak knife he had stolen from the cafeteria. “I’m gonna do you even better than I did Salsbury.” He slashed the knife through the air.

Charlie dodged the blade and used McCormick’s own momentum to push him down. He tried to jump onto his back but he was too quick and slid away. McCormick turned and slashed at Charlie again but the knife did not connect. McCormick realized that the two-foot pipe he had tossed at the beginning of the fight was sitting right next to him; he reached down and picked up the pipe with his left hand and kept the knife in his right.

“So much for mano a mano.” Charlie’s brow popped up and down realizing his situation.

McCormick swung the pipe and then the knife toward Charlie but hit only the air. “I never said I was a man of character, Mr. Kennedy. I said you were the man of character, and that pathetic character of yours is going to get you killed.” McCormick swung the pipe and a white flash exploded in Charlie’s eyes as it connected with the side of his head. The intense force of the blow sent him to the ground.

The world spun in circles as pain coursed through every vein. He could feel warm blood pouring from the wound on the side of his head and could barely open his eyes. Realizing he was in trouble, Charlie tried to think of some way to level the playing field. As his head cleared, he remembered that the ball peen hammer he had found in Jozef’s shipping crate was still in the side pocket of his coveralls. He reached into his pocket and felt the end of the wooden handle. Wrapping his hand tightly around the handle, he pulled the hammer from his pocket and turned toward McCormick as his mental chaos and intense pain were replaced with thoughts of survival.

Charlie caught McCormick by surprise as the hammer found its target, slamming into his jaw and causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. The blow caused McCormick to drop the pipe and the knife and they both bounced away. Charlie feebly got his legs under him and slowly forced himself to stand. But as fast as a striking cobra, McCormick kicked the hammer from Charlie’s hand and jumped on top of him again. As Charlie watched the hammer skip away, the hope of stopping McCormick and protecting Linda drained from him as quickly as the blood was draining from the side of his head. He had always thought of himself as one of the good guys and the good guys were always supposed to win. But it looked like in this case, that wasn’t going to be the outcome.

Grabbing the collar of Charlie’s coveralls in each of his hands, McCormick pulled his head off the grating. Then an inch from Charlie’s face, he sneered, “Fuckin’ pathetic.” Saliva sprayed from his lips. “So much for saving your wife, big man. Actually, when she meets me, she’ll be meetin’ a real man. And don’t worry…I’ll take good care of her.” Beads of sweat dripped from McCormick’s forehead and onto Charlie’s face.

He laughed a bit at his own joke and then ground his teeth together and spit out the words, “Killing you was fucking boring—boring!” He pounded Charlie’s head against the grating and then pulled his blood soaked face upward until it was less than an inch from his own.

Sucking oxygen in and out of his lungs like a steam engine, he paused his attack and glared at Charlie beneath him. The fallen man lay motionless with his eyes halfway closed, his mouth slightly open, and blood pouring from the wound on the side of his head.

His eyes remained glued to his victim as he staggered to his feet. “Like I said, Mr. Kennedy.” McCormick leaned over Charlie and screamed, “Pathetic!” Then he swung his leg back and kicked Charlie in the gut. The beaten and battered man groaned but did not retaliate.

McCormick looked around and located the metal pipe. He picked it up and lifted it high over his head and then slammed it into Charlie’s mid-section. Charlie’s body convulsed as he grabbed his stomach and then it softened as he faded in and out of consciousness.

“You think I fucked you up pretty bad, big man?” He smashed the pipe down twice in rapid succession, this time into Charlie’s chest. He paused for a few seconds waiting for a response. Charlie’s battered body remained still on the slimy metal grating.

McCormick used his hand to wipe the sweat from his face and then an evil smile curled the ends of his mouth.

“Just wait and see what I do to your pretty little wife.”

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