Jay dodged the nailed fist that came flying upwards to his chin, his back arching backwards to evade the blow. He twisted, a stiletto blade of the youngest boy missing his side by less than an inch. His foot lashed out, kicking the other boy in the chest before he had a chance to strike with his stick; he dodged the nails again, and his balled fist connected with the girl’s stomach, lifting her up into the air. He withdrew and leaped back from another slash of the blade. The boy overbalanced, and he grabbed the boy’s arm and twisted it, disarming him. The boy cried out at him as his head was
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