There were waves of kicks which zoomed past Drake's face. Though he had expected something close to that, but he never knew that they would go beyond his hypotheses. His calculations were so out of range. And what was strange was the fact that he had no time to worry about the odds. It was either he made a move or he would be knocked out.
When he pushed his body back to avoid the ruthless kick, he almost lost his balance. It took a hand from behind him to steady him. He didn't even have the time to look back at who was being so generous to him.
The attacker had come three times faster.
THIS BASTARD.
He pushed one of his legs back, ducked the flying punches. Those which he couldn't block, he stopped them with his elbows. He wasn't acting based on his own knowledge. He never went to a martial art school.
He was moving his body to the reflexes of his instinct. The familiar instinct which had saved him on so many occasions.
