crowbar hit

I came up, as yet un-shot, and there was Marx, all six foot eight three-hundred-fifty pounds of him, clutching the crowbar overhead in two meaty hands and swinging down with all his might. I took a colossal blow across forearm and skull and the world went bright black and I staggered and almost fell and cast a glance at Wraith who was swinging the gun back around. I threw a backhand fist into Marx’s broken jaw and he squealed and I ducked behind him as Wraith fired.
-Sledge vs. The Labyrinth, pg. 243-244