Grabbing the second candidate by the collar, he drove his knee into their gut, knocking the wind out of them.
"Stay down," Clyde growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The third candidate hesitated, eyeing the situation. Instead of attacking, they turned on their heel and sprinted towards the weapon storage.
Clyde's eyes widened. Damn it! He realized they were trying to gain an advantage by arming themselves first.
Leaving the other two candidates groaning on the ground, Clyde took off after the third. His heart pounded as he pushed through the underbrush, each step bringing him closer to the storage.
The candidate reached the door and fumbled with the lock.
"Not so fast!" Clyde shouted as he closed the distance.
The candidate spun around, knife in hand, and slashed at Clyde.
He ducked, feeling the blade slice through the air above his head.
