Greg scrambled to his feet,the sweat dripping in large drops off his face.He ducked quickly as a fist flew by his head by mere millimeters.Greg took the instability created by his opponent and darted a closed fist to the other mans flank.He scored a direct punch and then stumbled forward and fell to the dirt floor.He rolled onto his back and jabbed both his legs up.He could tell he was getting tired.His breathing was labored and his hands hurt.He could taste blood and felt it running down his chin.His feet made an awkward connection to his rival enough to trip him up.The man he was sparring with fell to the floor in a heap and lay still.Greg sat up and breathed hard braced for anything.He kicked at the fallen man but there was no movement.Greg couldn't believe his luck.He was confused though as to why this lout had passed out.He scanned the area and saw to his horror that the mans head had smashed into a heap of twisted metal.The young fighter was not passed out he was dead,instantly.Greg scrambled backwards on his hands and ass.The metal spike ,stained red ,sticking out through a gash in the mans head emblazoned in his mind .It was a gruesome sight and the shock of it made Greg close his eyes tightly for a minute.As his breathing slowed he reflected on the fact that he didn't vomit this time.This was not an uncommon sight,to see dead people or mutilated bodies up close.But Greg still felt sensitive to such gore.But he must be getting stronger because he didn't have the dry heaves this time.
When he was able to he stood up and dusted the yellow soil off a great portion of his clothing.He looked relatively kept together and he patted his shaggy dirty blond hair down with the sweat he wiped off his face.He tucked his shirt into his jeans and used his sleeve to wipe the blood off his chin and neck.Greg looked at his fist and sucked in the air through his teeth.His hands were badly bruised and bleeding.He needed to tend to his other wounds too,the laceration under his right eye,the rib that may be broken.He needed medical attention soon.His blue eyes darted about as his heart began to race again.Money,he needed money.He looked about the wasteland he inhabited.Crumbled buildings,old tenements ,semblances of what use to be a small city.He knew there were people about but no one in his immediate view.There was a role of thunder but that meant nothing because it hardly ever rained.It was hot,too hot.Greg was exhausted and his face was still moist with sweat.His shirt was damp and the jeans clung to his skinny legs.Water,he was dying of thirst,he needed water.He looked down at the dead man.They had met a few days ago at a regular hang out for young males.There they drank and did drugs at will.Randy,this dead man,had made several sexual advances on to Greg.Greg could tell the young man had some leverage.He was a youth with some money.He knew that because he was always surrounded by hanger ons and party freaks.Greg became his friend too.He allowed the Randy to touch him and kiss him about the neck,he even allowed Randy to give him a blow job,thinking it would lead to some money or something that would alleviate his boredom,his drudgery, his madness.
Greg knelt by next to Randy and brushed some dirt off the dead mans chest.He began to pat down Randy's body until he found the bulge.He reached in the dead man's pant pocket and extricated a money flap.Quickly he rifled through it and pulled out some money,all the money.He stuffed the money into his own pocket and tossed the wallet aside.With growing determination he began to rummage the lifeless youth pulling at any jewelry he could find or anything of value.When there was nothing left to be found Greg picked up the wallet again and looked through the various plastic cards.Randy was holding on to a food card,there were still many punches left,that meant Greg could get something to eat.He stood up and tossed the money flap away and ran off toward the tenement area.Randy continued to bleed and the ground became a dark patch under his destroyed head.
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