Trent moved as Travis did, as if they were one. I tensed with each swing John threw, fighting the urge to shut my eyes. There were no wasted movements; John was cunning and precise. All of Travis’ other fights seemed sloppy in comparison. The raw strength behind the punches alone were awe-inspiring, as if the whole thing had been choreographed and practiced to perfection.
The air in the room was heavy and stagnate; the dust from the sheets had been disturbed and caught in my throat each time I gasped. The longer the fight lasted, the worse the ominous feeling became. I couldn’t shake it, and yet I forced myself to stay in place so Travis could concentrate.
In one moment, I was hypnotized by the spectacle in the middle of the basemenet, in the next, I was shoved from behind. My head jerked back with the blow, but I tightened my grip, refusing to budge from my promised spot. Trent turned and grabbed the shirts of two men behind us and tossed them to the ground as though they were rag dolls.
“Back the fuck up or I’ll kill you!” he yelled to those staring at the fallen men. I gripped his arm tighter and he patted my hand. “I got ya, Abby. Just watch the fight.”
Travis was doing well, and I sighed when he drew first blood. The crowd grew louder, but Trent’s warning kept those around us at a safe distance. Travis landed a solid punch and then glanced at me, quickly returning his attention to John. His movements were lithe, almost calculating, seeming to predict John’s attacks before he made them.
Noticeably impatient, John wrapped his arms around Travis, pulling him to the ground. As one unit, the crowd surrounding the make-shift ring tightened around them, leaning in as the action fell to the floor.
“I can’t see him, Trent!” I cried as I bounced on my tip toes.
Trent looked around, finding Adam’s wooden chair. In a dance-like motion, he passed me from one arm to the other, helping me as I climbed above the mob. “Can you see him?”
“Yeah!” I said, holding Trent’s arm for balance. “He’s on top, but John’s legs are around his neck!”
Trent leaned forward on his toes, cupping his free hand around his mouth, “SLAM HIS ASS, TRAVIS!”
I glanced down to Trent and then leaned forward to get a better look at the men on the floor. Suddenly Travis was on his feet, John holding tight around Travis’ neck with his legs. Travis fell on his knees, slamming John’s back and head against the concrete in a devastating blow. John’s legs went limp, releasing Travis’ neck, and then Travis reared back is elbow, pummeling John over and over with his clenched fist until Adam pulled him away, throwing the red square on John’s flaccid body.
The room erupted, cheering as Adam lifted Travis’ hand into the air. Trent hugged my legs, calling out victory to his brother. Travis looked up at me with a broad, bloody smile; his right eye had already begun to swell.
As the money passed hands and the crowd began to meander about, preparing to leave, my eyes drifted to a wildly flickering lantern swaying back and forth in the corner of the room behind Travis. Liquid was dripping from its base, soaking the sheet below it. My stomach sank.
“Trent?”
Catching his attention, I pointed to the corner. In that moment, the lantern fell from its clip, crashing into the sheet below, immediately bursting into flames.
“Holy shit!” Trent said, gripping my legs.
A few men around the fire jumped back, watching in awe as the flames crawled to the adjacent sheet. Black smoke bellowed from the corner, and in unison, every person in the room flew into a panic, pushing their way to the exits.
My eyes met Travis’, and a look of terror distorted his face.
“Abby!” he screamed, pushing at the sea of people between us.
“C’mon!” Trent yelled, pulling me from the chair to his side.
The room darkened, and a loud popping noise sounded from another side of the room. The other lanterns were igniting and adding to the fire in small explosions. Trent grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him as he tried to force his way through the crowd.