The first one of the bandits came in screaming with his bat raised high over his head.
Clyde didn't even slow his stride and then move with the cold precision of a killer. The spear shot forward like lightning, the steel tip punching straight through the man's throat.
His scream turned into a wet gargle, blood spraying in a thin arc of red mist around his face..
Clyde wrenched the weapon free with a sharp twist and let the body drop sideways to the dirt with a dull thud.
The second rushed in immediately with a machete in hand, his face twisted in rage.
Clyde pivoted easily, sidestepped his wild swing and then drove the spear low.
The point punched into the man's gut, sliding deep enough to lift him partially off his feet.
The man's eyes went wide, the sound that came out of him more like a wheeze than a scream.
Clyde shoved harder and pinning him to the ground before yanking the blade out in a spray of his intestines and blood. .
