He slammed himself back, pinning Davey between himself and the sharp
stones on the walkway up to the cave entrance, then mashed backward with
his elbows, his head ringing like a gong from the stone's blow. His left
elbow connected with Davey's solar plexus and the arm around his throat
went slack.
He climbed to his knees and looked Davey in the face. He was blue and
gasping, but Alan couldn't work up a lot of sympathy for him as he
reached up to the side of his head and felt the goose egg welling
there. His fingertips came back with a few strands of hair blood-glued
to them.
He'd been in a few schoolyard scraps and this was always the moment when
a teacher intervened -- one combatant pinned, the other atop him. What
could you do after this? Was he going to take the rock from Davey's hand
and smash him in the face with it, knocking out his teeth, breaking his
nose, blacking his eyes? Could he get off of Davey without getting back
into the fight?
He pinned Davey's shoulders under his knees and took him by the chin
with one hand. "You can't do this, Danny," he said, looking into his
hazel eyes, which had gone green as they did when he was angry.
"Do *what*?"
"Spy on me. Try to hurt me. Try to hurt my friends. Tease me all the
time. You can't do it, okay?"
"I'll stab you in your sleep, Andy. I'll break your fingers with a
brick.
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