aff, which the big Mute was about to

beat him with. He could make a grab for it the way Motor-Head had, but

even if he managed to catch it, he couldn't match the strength in

Motor-Head's arms. The Mute would end up with both staffs in about two

seconds flat.

Adjusting his grip on Steve's quarterstaff, Motor-Head drove it

teasingly into Steve's ribs, then cracked him over the head. Steve

took one hand off Motor-Head's staff in an attempt to ward off the next

blow. In a flash, the Mute slid his hand along the pole, pulling Steve

another foot in towards him. Steve saw what was happening. He tried

to get both hands back on the pole but was too late. Motor-Head

laughed throatily and thwacked him hard on the outside of the thigh.

If it had been a two-handed blow, it would have shattered the bone;

even so, to Steve, at that particular moment, it felt like he might

never walk again.

Triple lumpshit! he thought. I can't take much more of this I He knew

Motor-Head was only taunting him. He had to do something. Motor-Head

was pulling him ever closer, making it almost impossible to stay clear

of the whirling quarterstaff in the Mute's right hand. Come on,

Brickman!

If you can get out of this, you can get out of anything! As the idea

came, Motor-Head hauled in some more slack on the pole in his left

hand. It was now or never. Okay, this is it, Brickman! Go for it!

As Motor-Head aimed another taunting blow, Steve threw up his left hand

and caught the end of the staff as it flashed down. The impact sent a

shock-wave all the way down to his left foot and his palm felt as if it

had burst open.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pulled down hard on the two

poles as Motor-Head tugged in the opposite direction. For a split

second, the poles were like two parallel bars. In the instant that

Motor-Head won the tug-of-war and jerked the poles towards him, Steve

threw his body into the air, arms straight down like a vaulting

gymnast, and drove the heels of his combat boots into the Mute's

face.

'Heyy-YAHH I I' The impact knocked Motor-Head over like a felled

tree.

Steve's body sailed on, curving through the air to land at the feet of

the startled Black-Top. Before either warrior could react, Steve tore

the crossbow from Black-Top's grasp and slammed the butt against the

side of the warrior's head. As Black-Top went down, Steve spun round

to find Steel-Eye coming at him with a fistful of sharp iron. Unable

to find the trigger in time, Steve brought one half of the sprung metal

bow down onto Steel-Eye's knife arm, then leant back, pivoted on his

left heel, swung his right leg up to waist height and snapped it

straight, flattening Steel-Eye's solar plexus against his spine. The

Bear went down blowing air like a ruptured pressure hose.

'For a couple of seconds, Steve stood there as if mesmerised. He was

shaking like a leaf. His head ached from the blow he let Motor-Head

lay on him and his body suddenly seemed full of sharp jabbing pains.

The rifle! Get the rifle and finish offthese lumps before they get up

again!

Steve turned towards Blue-Bird, stumbled over Motor-Head's outstretched

arm and fell awkwardly to the ground, losing the crossbow as he went

down. He felt a huge hand grip his ankle. Steve kicked himself free,

threw himself towards the crossbow, pulled it towards him and scrambled

to his knees. With his finger now firmly on the trigger he turned

towards his three fallen adversaries and was appalled to find they were

all getting to their feet.

One side of Black-Top's face was swollen; Steel-Eye was half bent and

barely able to breathe; blood oozed from Motor-Head's broken nose and

mouth. Motor-Head was empty-handed. The others held long Mute

fighting knives with the dished top cutting edge.

Steve stood up and backed away towards the hidden rifle as they took a

step towards him. He raised the crossbow and aimed it at Motor-Head's

chest. 'Stay right where you are!" Motor-Head paused and gave Steve a