vs Ari

"Maybe not. Someone wanted to see if Erasers would last longer if they didn't start from infancy," I went on. Ari was trembling now, his hands clenching and unclenching convulsively. "You were three years old, and they grafted DNA into you and they got a superEraser. Right?"
Suddenly, Ari lunged and swung out with one clubbed paw. Even with my speed-record reflexes, he managed to cuff my check hard enough to spin me against the gross tunnel wall. Something like pus stuck to my face.
I sucked in a breath, accepting that I was about to get the stuffing beat out of me. Ol' Jeb, though clearly an agent of the devil, had taught us the useful art of street fighting. Never fight fair —that's not how you win. Use every dirty trick you can. Expect pain. Expect to get hurt. If you're surprised by the pain, you just lost.
I turned slowly back toward Ari. "Out in the real world, you should be in second grade," I said, tasting salty blood inside my mouth. "If Jeb had protected you."
"Out in the real world, you would have been killed for the disgusting mutant freak you are." Now the gloves were off. "And you're a ... what?" I asked in mock polite confusion. "Face it, Ari.
You're not just a big, hairy seven-year-old. You're much more of an obvious mutant freak than 1 am. And your own father let it happen."
"Shut up!" Ari yelled furiously.
I couldn't help it—I felt bad for him for a second.
But only for a second.
"You see, Ari," I said conversationally, then launched myself at him with a roundhouse kick that would have caved in the chest of an ordinary man. Ari merely staggered.
Staggered back a half-step. Not even a full one.
He cuffed me again, and I saw circles and stars. He punched me in the stomach. My God, he was as strong as a team of oxen. That would be strong, right?
"You're dead meat," Ari growled. "I mean that literally." Then he surged toward me, claws out— and he slipped.
His boot slid on the slimy tunnel ledge and he fell heavily to his back. So hard I could hear the wind knocked out of him, a mighty gush of air.
"Get them out of here! " I shouted at Fang, barely turning my head, then instantly dropped my full weight onto Ari's chest.
I could hear my heart and feel adrenaline snaking through me, turning me into Supergirl. I remembered that Ari had hurt Fang bad out at the beach — and he'd enjoyed it.
Ari struggled to get up, wheezing like a large animal with pneumonia, trying to push me off. I grabbed his head with both hands, my face twisted with fury.
But he got away from me. He was so fast, faster than I was.
Ari punched me again, and I thought I heard a rib crack. He was taking me apart bit by bit. Why did he hate me so? Why did all of the Erasers hate us?
"Yes, Maximum, I am enjoying this. I want it to last a long, long time."
I was his pummeling bag now, and there was nothing I could do about it. You can't imagine the hurt and pain, or his strength, or the fury aimed at me.
The only thing saving me from destruction was the slippery footing in the tunnel, the grime under his feet.
Just then Ari lost his balance again, and I saw the smallest opening. A chance, at least. I kicked him once more, this time in the throat. Solid, a good one.
Ari gagged and started to go down. I threw myself at him, grabbing his head, and we fell as one in slow motion. He was huge, heavy, and we dropped like lead. Wham! Butt, back, head... I held on tight— as Ari's neck slammed against the hard side of the tunnel. I heard a horrible, stomach-turning crack that vibrated up my arms. Ari and I stared at each other in shock.
"You really hurt me," he gasped rawly, terrible surprise in his voice. "I wouldn't hurt you. Not like this." Then his head flopped down, and Ari went totally limp. His eyes rolled up and the whites showed.
"Max?" Iggy was trying to sound calm. "What was that?"
"I-I..." I gulped, sitting on Ari's barrel chest, still holding his head, "I think I broke his neck." I gulped again, feeling like I might be sick. "I think he's dead."


The Angel Experiment Chapter 130