Garth was still catching his breath. His body had been viciously weakened. Those ferocious blasts from the tazer had taken it out of him. Left him struggling .. wobbly on his feet.
As soon as the soldiers got him out of the tribunal room, they’d gone for him again. Holding him upright .. arms held tight .. backed against a wall .. a dozen or more body-shaking blasts thudded into his abs.
The militia bastards had gone physical. Like they were convinced he was hiding something. And they were gonna beat the truth out of him. Their prod had already blasted every ounce of strength out of him .. now their fists were finishing him off.
Weakened .. reflexes not quick enough to defend himself .. not after that tazering. Each and every blow had knocked him backwards .. held down .. smacked pitilessly in his guts. Too slow to flex .. too weak to protect his innards .. every thwack into his belly had exploded in a yell.
They’d really gone for him .. like they’d been waiting for the chance. Mercilessly punching the living daylights out of his guts. Blasting any fight-back out of him. Making things easy for themselves. Sure enough, by the time he had any sense of where he was, he’d been hauled into another room .. big, gloomy, lit by blue/ grey lights. Stood upright, bent forwards .. his arms tied over a bar or such.
He’d got only a quick glance around .. through bleary pain-streaked eyes. Then it went black. A thick hood had been thrown over his head and pulled tight around his neck. He couldn’t see. A bag of some thick material. Airless. Asphyxiating .. trapped stifling inside the hood. Little or no fresh air penetrating. He was already getting light-headed .. breathing in his own expended air.
His body buzzed from the beatings. Bleariness whirred in his head. His guts burned. Aching like fury. Stood blind, expecting anytime for attack. Taking what chance he could, catching his breath .. fearing it’d only be a short break. Undoubtedly they’d be starting on him again. They had to be just grabbing some water or something.
Out there .. somewhere else in the same room .. beyond the choking hood .. Garth heard cries. Grunts. Pained cries. At first Garth had been too taken with his own struggles .. fighting back the pain from the vicious beatings .. trying to catch his breath .. struggling to shake the hood off his head. Anxious because he’d not know when they were back. Couldn’t anticipate where they’d hit.
Now he thought he recognised Hunt’s voice. Distorted. Twisted by the sound of his own tortured breathing inside the hood.
Warped cries of pain. A loud curse .. fucking them to hell. Yes, definitely Hunt. Pain bursting out .. another thump of a hard-knuckled fist into muscle .. blasting another tortured cry out of human flesh. Sounding through the hood like the guy was getting it in the guts. Losing all his wind in explosive pain. Then ragged struggles in futile efforts as the guy fought to catch his breath.
They were going for him, Hunt was getting the mother of all work-overs. Garth was getting this break because Hunt was getting it. Given with a vengeance. Hunt was getting a beating out-of-hell. By the sound of it, no chance to flex .. not a cat-in-hell’s chance of defending himself. Blow-after-blow. One winding punch on top of the other. Fistful-after-fistful in merciless follow-through. Thud-after-sickening thud. Giving it to the fucker. The hated insurgent, the ringleader. Getting what he deserved.
Hunt cried out. Hurting. Getting done-over .. pitiless. Teaching Hunt a lesson he’d not forget. Garth was getting a lesson too. Learning these thugs did not play around. And they’d be coming back for him next.
Garth was still struggling. He’d fought himself back onto his feet. Stood bent forward. Somehow his forearms were tied together, they felt like bound to some metal bar. He’d made himself plant his feet firm under himself. His body rocking as he sucked in air.
He tensed his abs, he tested the strength. He’d need that soon enough. As soon as smacking the life out of Hunt wasn’t fun anymore.
Pain stabbed him in the guts when he tried out his abs. Suffocating, sucking in his stale body-gases inside the hood. Sharp pains as he tensed up. But he made himself overcome the aches stabbing him in the gut. Ignoring the daunting sounds of a guy having hell punched out of his belly. Sure that soon they’d be starting on him. Sure that however hurt he felt, it was going to get worse.
And for what …..? What had he done?
Inside the hood he was sweating, stifling hot. Running off his hair .. running down his face. Hard to focus, lack of oxygen. Breathing hard. Breathing in old air. He heard Hunt yell out .. pained, no holding it back. Dozens of pitiless thuds into his body. Another hard thump of a solid fist. Blasted a sharp cry out of Hunt’s muscled body.
Steeling himself .. flexing his abs. Testing, getting ready. When they’d got it out of their system .. after paying Hunt back for the trouble he’d caused .. it was HIS turn. Garth was up next.