Hell in Heaven

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The rules were simple: two men start, one man finishes.

Matt and the giant faced off against each other in the center of Main Street. Matt clutched his axe; the giant held a curved blade so large it must have come from some kind of harvesting machine. The sides of the street were packed with Vetches and Gilhoolies, each sticking with their own people. Mouse and Orfamay stood together on the porch in front of the general store, the girl he he'd rescued cowering behind them.

Matt took one step toward the giant. "We don't have to do this," Matt said. "We can set an example for both families. Just set down our weapons and walk away."

The giant thought this over. "I can set down my weapon," he said finally. He dropped his blade on the ground.

Matt allowed himself a sigh of relief. He'd had his share of fights before, but he'd never even seen anyone this big, let alone tried to battle him. And even if he fought and won, what would be the point? The big man would be injured or dead and how would anyone be better off?

But the giant wasn't done yet. "I don't need a weapon." Before Matt could drop his axe, the giant reached out and grabbed him in his enormous palms. He raised Matt above his head and threw him down on the asphalt.

Matt landed hard on his shoulder, his left arm going numb from the impact. The axe flew out of his hand. He felt his clothes, then his skin tearing away as he skidded down the road.

Somehow the giant got ahead of him before he came to a stop. He put out one massive foot and stomped. Matt could hear his ribs crack. He let out a strangled scream.

"I am a weapon," the giant crowed. He bent down and picked Matt up again. He didn't throw him this time. Instead he held Matt off the ground with one hand, then slapped him across his head with the other. It was like being hit by a steamroller.

For a moment, everything went black. When Matt's eyes worked again, what he saw was the asphalt rising toward him. While he was out, the giant had hurled him back in the other direction.

Matt threw up his arms to protect his face and landed on both wrists. Jagged bolts of pain shot up through his wrists. He tried to get up, but as soon as he was on his knees, one of the giant's boots slammed into his stomach, sending him flying back down the street, his head bouncing off the asphalt.

Matt gasped for breath and felt blood filling his mouth. He spit it on the ground, where it merged with all that had spilled from Vetch and Gilhoolie the night before. He was one of them now, another victim or, increasingly unlikely, another victor in this endless war.

Was this why Mr. Dark had sent him to Heaven? To show him that's all he ever was, just another faceless combatant in a conflict that would never end? Or just to get him caught up in a fight that didn't matter so he'd forget about the one that did?

There was a skittling noise on the ground and Matt felt something hard hit his hand. It was the handle of his axe. One of the spectators had kicked it to him.

Matt grabbed his weapon and felt a strength flowing through him. It was nothing magical. The axe was no Mjolnir and he couldn't be further from godhead. But it was him. He was whole.

Matt looked up and saw the giant standing over him again, one mighty foot raised in the air, ready to bring it down on his skull and smash his brains out on the ground.

As the foot came down, Matt rolled out from under it. The foot slammed into the ground and Matt thought he could feel the vibration through the asphalt. The giant wheeled toward him, lifting his foot.

Matt saw exactly what he had to do. He lashed out with the axe, striking just under the giant's kneecap. The giant let out a howl of pain, but Matt didn't stop. He brought the axe straight up, slamming it between the giant's legs. The giant doubled over, clutching his groin. Matt jumped to his feet, ignoring the screaming pain from his ribs, and brought the axe down on the back of the giant's head.

The giant tumbled to the ground, one hand on his groin, the other on the back of his neck.

"You would be dead right now," Matt said to him, "if I'd used the blade instead of the butt."

Matt became aware of a chanting from the Gilhoolie side of the street. "Kill him. Kill him. Kill him."

And then realized with a shock that the chant had spread to the Vetches as well, as they urged him to finish off their own champion.

"Is that what you want?" Matt said to the giant. "Do you want me to kill you? Or do you yield?"

The chant grew louder. Matt could see the giant's lips move, but he couldn't hear the words over the shouting. Matt put his ear to the giant's lips.

"I want to live."

Matt turned to the crowd. He held up his axe, and they fell silent.

"It's over," he said. "It's all over."