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   Along with just being generally grabby, the kid blunders into me. Which I find more immediately frightening than the half-hearted warcry he yells at my back. I take off. But arms close around my shoulders.
   I don’t ask him what he’s doing. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking. I’m yanked off balance, and I just want to punch the fuck in the head.
  “Get off me!”
   Not an original imprecation to toss out at a time like this, but I’m not really thinking very much just now. The kid’s dug in, bent his knees and lent backwards, and I have to lunge back at him to get my feet back under me. I get my knee into his thigh, and I can dig in, pull back on him. I’m the bigger man, fuck, I should be able to drag him out of here. But I’mm gritting my teeth and the idiot boy is hanging on, his own angry face locked into whatever the fuck it is he wants now. I can see it right there in the glimpse I get, some fucking damn thing driving him and all I can see is the drive, not the reason.
  “Gan shenme fucking lai de, you miserable fucking—”
   In my vitriol, I have no particular skill with the local language. All the physical strength I need has deserted me, any idea I had of myself as strong is being pulled out of my by this fuckhead’s freaking mysterious tenacity—
   And I realise just a little too clearly where that force may have come from. I writhe, I twist, I turn – I’m like in a dream where I can’t get out of bindings – I have to see his eyes…