Birthright: Book I of the Temujin Saga by Adam J. Whitlatch Page B

do?”
    ::Shut his mouth.::
    “Shut your mouth!” Alex drove his fist into Baxter’s smirking face.
    Baxter staggered from the blow and his friends gasped at the unexpected display of courage from the younger boy. When Baxter turned his face back to Alex, he spat out a mouthful of blood, along with one of his front teeth. Alex stared at the broken tooth as the rain washed the blood from it in patches.
    ::Good shot, kid!::
    “I told you to shut up,” Alex huffed.
    “You’re dead , Walker!” Baxter howled.
    He grabbed Alex by the front of his shirt and punched him in the stomach. As Alex fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air, a shimmer caught his eye. For a moment, he thought he saw three points of yellow light floating in a nearby puddle.
    Baxter flipped Alex onto his back and punched him in the face. The other boys joined in the beating, taunting and jeering as they kicked him in the ribs and head.
    “Help!” cried Alex in between kicks. “Somebody!”
    “Hey, jerkoff!” said a voice behind them.
    The bullies ceased their assault and turned. An Asian man in his late teens or early twenties with short, untidy black hair stood at the end of the alley. Unlike them, he appeared totally dry, his gray T-shirt and blue jeans looked as if he’d just stepped outside. Baxter’s friends immediately backed away from Alex, but Baxter stood his ground.
    “Why don’t you punks pick on someone your own size?” said the stranger.
    “What?” Baxter took a step toward the new arrival, his chest puffed up. “Like you ?”
    “If you think you’ve got the stones.” The man beckoned. “Come get some.”
    Baxter lunged forward with a punch, but the stranger sidestepped him and knocked him down with a powerful hook kick to his back. As the bully struck the ground, the stranger turned to the other three boys.
    “Anybody else want a piece?”
    One of the boys slapped his companions on the back. “C’mon, we can take him. He can’t beat all of us.”
    The stranger smiled. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
    The three youths ran forward, and the stranger adopted a low fighting stance. As the first boy approached, the man dropped and took the boy’s legs out from under him with a low wheel kick. With lightning-fast speed he leaped into the air over the second boy’s head and as the boy passed underneath him lashed out with his legs, striking him in the back with his feet. On the way down, the stranger grabbed the third boy’s shoulders and let the momentum of the fall carry them both to the ground. When the stranger’s back touched the ground, he thrust his foot into the boy’s abdomen and threw him over his head. The bully screamed as he landed face-first in a cluster of trashcans. Greasy, rancid garbage cascaded over him.
    Alex clutched his head, feeling warm blood seeping through his fingers. The stranger moved so fast, he seemed a blur to Alex’s cloudy eyes. A sudden movement behind the man caught Alex’s eye. In the dim light, he could just make out the glint of a small blade as Baxter pulled a pocketknife from his jeans.
    “Mister, look out!”
    The stranger turned, and Baxter snarled as he plunged the blade into the man’s abdomen. He looked down at the blade and then up to the bully’s sneering face. With calm, slow motions, he wrapped his fingers around the hand holding the knife and drew it out of the wound. Baxter’s eyes grew wide as the blade came out clean of blood, coated instead with a glowing yellow substance.
    The man placed his thumb against the flat side of the blade and snapped it in two. As the broken blade clattered to the ground, Baxter urinated down his leg.
    The stranger leaned in close to the bully’s ear and whispered, “This is the part where you run away, calling for your mommy.”
    “Mommy!” Baxter squealed as he scrambled to get away from the stranger, slipping on the wet pavement.
    One by one, the other boys followed suit and joined their leader in the retreat. Once