Takedown Read Online Free PDF

home by ourselves? We’ll stop at Hungry
     Mike’s and I’ll treat.”
    “Sure.” I seldom refused Bull’s offers to treat me, and he
never
refused my treating him.
    I got permission from Mom, and we left. The matches were almost finished, anyway. We walked about two blocks to Hungry Mike’s,
     split a submarine sandwich, exchanged expert opinions about the match for about ten minutes, then left. It was about a quarter
     of ten, and a cool breeze was chilling the air. I pulled the collar of my light jacket tighter around my neck.
    “This is the kind of night I like,” Bull said, the bright red light of the Hungry Mike’s sign flashing on his face. “Cool,
     quiet, and lazy.”
    The breeze was teasing his hair and ruffling the sides of his open windbreaker. “Lazy?” I echoed.
    “Yeah.” Then Bull stiffened. He stared down the street, his mouth parted. I looked in the same direction, and my mouth dropped
     open, too.
    “I guess I spoke too soon,” Bull whispered.
    “Okay, Runt,” Max Rundel blurted, stepping up to me from the night shadows. “My button.Hand it over, or you know what’s coming to you.”
    In the soft light behind him I could see his left- and right-hand buddies, Hunter “the Squasher” Nyles and John McNeer.
    “What button?” I said.
    I knew what button, but I wasn’t about to hand it over to him.
    How did he know about it, anyway? I hadn’t told him, and I knew Carl hadn’t.
    He grabbed me by the collar of my jacket and stared down at me, his eyes on fire. I could feel his breath as he snapped at
     me, “Don’t give me that bull, Shortfry! Barbara told me she saw it fall out of your pocket! Hand it over! Now!”
    I was sick. So Barbara
had
seen the button when I dropped it. I didn’t want to think that she got me in trouble on purpose. Maybe she didn’t know it
     belonged to Max and had mentioned it to him without thinking.
    I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands and tried to loosen his hold. He hung on like a vise.
    Bull stepped up to him. “Let him alone, Rundel,”he ordered. “If he’s got a button it’s his, not yours.”
    “Out of the way, Bull Durham,” Max quipped, without taking his eyes off me, “or these two guys behind me will mop up the street
     with you.”
    “Is that so?”
    Bull started to rush at Max.
    “No, Bull!” I cried, putting out a hand to stop him. “Keep out of this!”
    He paused in his tracks, just as Nyles and McNeer ran up to him, each grabbing him by an arm.
    Max, still holding the collar of my jacket, poked me in the stomach with his other fist and snarled, “You gonna give it to
     me, or do I have to take it from you?”
    Pain shot through my stomach. That did it. I had to defend myself, no matter how much bigger he was.
    I closed both of my hands together and drove them as hard as I could against Max’s arm. He let go, and I heard him grunt.
     I knew the blow hurt him. It had hurt my left wrist.
    In a blink of an eye he ducked his head and dove at me. He struck me with his left shoulder, and I went down like a ton of
     bricks. My head struck the ground with a crunch, and for a few seconds the night filled up with a million lightning bugs.
    I rolled over before I could see clearly again, knowing that if I didn’t he would jump on me and probably put a hold on me
     — legal or illegal, it made no difference here. Maybe he’d injure me enough to knock me out of wrestling for a while. I didn’t
     want that.
    I started to jump to my feet, but lost my balance as he grabbed my left leg and yanked me down. I hit the ground again, and
     a ball of lead — that’s what it felt like — struck me on the thigh. The pain shot up my whole left side.
    I swung a fist at him and missed.
    Then he grabbed my arm and twisted it into a wristlock, putting on pressure that caused pain to shoot up my arm. I wanted
     to scream with pain, but I didn’t. I wasn’t going to give the Octopus the satisfaction.
    Suddenly I saw a figure loom up behind him