Strongest Arms on the Beach Part 2
by Alpesco
No way out.


If you haven't read Part One, you can find it HERE -
http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/alpesco/brionnx25.txt

Continued....

"Right!" Brionn's voice came echoing to us, loud and clear across the water.
"I'm going to give you one more chance. Get out of the water, and onto the
island while I take my boat and fetch the Coastguard. If you do that, no-one
else has to get hurt. Try anything and I'll chew you up and spit you out. What
do you say?"

The men hesitated.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," I yelled from the shore. My chest STILL hurt
where she'd hit me with that rock-solid fist of hers. I hoped nothing was
broken. "You come back in. Give us the keys to the boat, and we'll leave you
here, unharmed."

"I've told you my terms." The girl's voice came back. She knew how to project
her voice too. She didn't seem to be shouting with any effort, yet her voice
echoed across the island, unnervingly confident. She was only sixteen, I
reminded myself. She might be nearly six feet tall, fast, and alarmingly
strong, especially in those outsized arms of hers. But I had four good men
left, apart from the two she'd managed to put out of action. Stanislav,
Malcos, Armand and Falyar stood between the girl, Brionn, and her speedboat.
They varied in height from 5ft 8in to 6ft 2in, in age, from 22 to 48. And they
had a lot to lose if the authorities took them. We would get hold of this
troublesome teenager, take the key, and resume our interrupted journey to the
mainland.

Suddenly she disappeared again, diving beneath the wavelets, twenty yards out
from where the four men stood in waist-deep water. She had already made a
couple of false dives, but the men were still alert, knowing now how quickly
she could attack underwater. This time she stayed under for a long time -
disconcertingly long - far longer than she needed simply to swim to the boat.
I and the others began to glance along the shore, half-expecting her to surface
near the far end of the island.

Then, without warning, she reared out of the water right next to the startled
Malcos. As her body erupted from the water, her fist crashed into his jaw amid
a storm of spray that drenched everyone round the boat. Malcos gave a deep
groan of pain, followed by two more, as her long arms tore three huge punches
straight into him - all in the space of a second. The sheer force of those
three brutal blows drove his whole body up and back across the foredeck of the
boat. It was all over in a second, Brionn diving backward under the water
again before the other three men could get to her.

Malcos was lying on his back across the front of the speedboat, dazed and
shaken, one cheekbone clearly broken. His face was swollen and streaming with
blood. But he didn't seem to notice his injuries as he struggled weakly to get
up. Not seeming to know where he was, he managed to turn onto one side and
push himself weakly upward, his eyes glazed. But his shaky arms gave way
beneath him, and he fell back to the prow of the boat before slipping off into
the sea.

The other three men rushed to lift him up and drag him on to the beach, where
he lay, groaning. I was shocked by how much damage the sixteen-year-old's three
big punches had done to the 30 year old man. i glanced into the bay to see
that Brionn's head had again surfaced a dozen yards out to sea.

"Drag the boat out of the water!" I shouted, fearful of her launching another
sneak attack. She seemed more dangerous in the water than out. The three men
obeyed quickly, hauling the ten-seater boat out onto the beach with some
effort. After seeing what the girl had just done to Goram and Malcos, they
were extremely relieved to be out of the waist-high water.

Now the girl began to swim eastward towards the blunt tip of the narrow
island. Again I gasped at her speed through the water as her long powerful
arms churned through the wavelets. Before I'd taken in what she was doing, she
was sixty yards away and nearing the one-storey wooden shack that was the only
building on this tiny island.

"Catch her!" I pointed.

The three unhurt men began racing up the beach towards the shack as I tried to
get Malcos to clear his spinning head and get back to his feet, but the girl
took just eight more strokes to pull herself in to shore, standing, then
running toward the shack. It had shuttered windows and a single door of badly
painted wood.

She reached the door twenty yards ahead of the others. It seemed to be jammed,
but a shove of her shoulder sent it flying open. She ran inside, slamming the
door behind her.

"We've got her trapped!" I shouted.

Falyar reached the shack door first. The other three behind him as he tried
the handle. The door seemed jammed again. "Come out, girl" he said. "We have
you now.."

A deafening crash ripped across the beach, and in a roar of shattering timber,
the wooden shack door simply exploded in front of him. The solid door just
seemed to rear itself apart. I stood still, unable to take in just what had
happened as the five foot ten Falyar was sent flying back with a scream of
pain and shock amid a storm of exploding timber.

So violent was the shattering of the door that broken lengths of wood a foot
or more in length were still landing twenty feet down the beach. Stanislav and
Armand tried to shield themselves from the flying debris.

Where the door had once been there was now a gaping hole, with Brionn's tall
form just visible in the darkness beyond. I glimpsed her long smooth-muscled
leg retreating into the shadow. Only then did I realise what the damned bitch
had done. She had simply blasted the door to pieces with one savage blow from
her strongly-muscled leg, kicking out the door with such force that it had
literally exploded into the body of the nearest man to it.

Falyar collapsed into the sand, howling in pain. Even from twenty yards away,
I could see that his body was covered in deep cuts and lacerations. Stanislav
ran back to help him. Having finally got the dazed Malcos back to his feet, we
hurried up the beach, leaving the prostrate Tomas and Goram on the sand near
the beached speedboat.

Armand, who had received a cut to his left arm from a stray shaft of timber,
turned on the girl with a cry of rage. But Brionn was simply too fast for him.
She sidestepped his charge with contemptuous ease, moving behind him to grasp
both his wrists in her outstretched hands.

He was 34 and five foot nine, but although he was more heavily built than his
tall opponent, he was no match for the leverage and sheer strength of the
girl's long, powerful arms. He gave a sharp cry of pain as her sinuously
muscled left arm twisted his smoothly up and behind his back. Gripping his
right wrist, her long right arm simply overpowered his, coiling it, along with
hers, forward, upward and then tightly around his neck. The muscles on her
so-long arms swelled and defined as they began to squeeze and then lift.
Almost without effort, they hoisted his whole bodyweight off the ground,
suspending him by neck and pinned left arm until he hung six inches off the
ground in front of her. He struggled for about ten seconds in her powerfully
constricting arms, then went limp as he lost consciousness.

I stared, astonished. He was just hanging like a doll from her impressively
strong arms. the girl had just put this grown man out cold with practically no
effort. She smiled, seeing me staring. then, releasing the limp arm behind his
back, her left arm sought out his dangling legs, wrapping itself around them
to lift him easily into a cradle carry. This guy weighed in at around 150
pounds - a good 20 pounds more than she did, yet her long arms took his weight
as effortlessly as if he were made out of straw. She held him high, so that
her washboard stomach was clearly exposed beneath him, the dense muscles
growing slightly more defined as she breathed.

I ran to where Stanislav was trying to help the injured Falyar. "Stop her!" I
pointed, pushing Malcos towards him. "I'll see to Falyar."

Both of them turned toward Brionn and her unconscious captive. I knelt beside
Falyar. He was still moaning in pain. The clothing on his body had been torn
to shreds by sharp edges from the exploding door, and there were deep gashes
across his stomach, arms and torso, where jagged shards of wood had cut deep.
There wasn't a lot to do for him except try to remove the remaining splinters
of the demolished door. "Get that girl!" I roared again, furious that this one
teenager had so far been able to sabotage all our efforts.

Ahead of me, Stanislav and Malcos were advancing on Brionn. Still holding the
unconscious Armand in her arms, she began to retreat, backing up the steep
sand-ridge behind her. Stanislav and Malcos followed her up, keeping about six
feet apart. Within moments she had been backed to the top of the ridge, the
two tall men some seven feet beneath her. "I warn you," she said. "Stay back!"

They ignored her, still scrambling upward. "Okay," she said.

With a shrug of her wide shoulders, she rearranged her burden so that the
semi-conscious form of Armand was on his side, facing forward in her arms. Her
long hands clamped round his underarm and upper thigh. As Stanislav and Malcos
continued to edge upward, she gave a gentle gasp of effort and began to push.
The big slabs of muscle at her shoulders began to bunch and define, and,
incredibly, her long, long arms began to straighten, raising Armand's 150
pound weight steadily up and up.

The two pursuers halted in their tracks, mouths wide open. All of us watched,
hypnotised, as the arms this slim-waisted 16-year-old displayed their
incredible strength. Slowly they raised the full weight of this grown man up
above her shoulders. Thick skeins of muscle rippled beneath bronzed skin as
her arms continued to push Armand's weight upward. Without stopping, they
raised Armand's body to head height, above head height, and higher, until they
were dead straight beneath his outstretched body. Her shoulder muscles swollen
and defined, her arms held his body suspended horizontal, a full two feet
above her head.

Armand was now beginning to regain consciousness. Seeing where he was, he
started to writhe in panic. But the girl's long arms were astonishingly
strong. They did not give way, but remained steadfast as stone pillars,
holding him where he was. He cried out in pain as her grip on his arm and
upper leg tightened fiercely, her fingers digging deep into his flesh as she
continued to keep his body pinioned above her head.

For long, hypnotic moments Brionn just held her captive there, her legs
slightly apart, her arms etched with dense, hard muscle, as he struggled to
break free. She breathed in slowly, her stomach forming a deep-cut wall of
muscle. Then her arms simply tipped him forward. Her hands released their grip
and she hurled her burden down on top of Stanislav. The taller man had no time
to get out of the way, and the 150 pound body hit him hard. Both men fell in a
jumbled heap to the bottom of the ridge.

Malcos was still staring in horror as Brionn slid towards him. Her foot lashed
out, and Malcos was sent flying down the sand-ridge towards the others.

Now the girl came down the ridge towards them. She looked disturbingly
confident as she approached the three men. Stanislav and Malcos looked bruised
and shaken, but neither seemed badly hurt. They stumbled back to their feet.
The smaller Armand who lay between them, seemed less able or willing to rise
to his feet.

The two men placed themselves in front of the wooden shack, between the girl
and the beach. Stanislav was twenty five, and a formidable six feet two inches
in height. In his salt-stained clothes he looked a good deal more heavily
built than the girl in front of him. Malcos, slightly older at thirty, was
heavier but shorter at five foot ten. Brionn herself was nearly six feet tall,
yet her body from heels to lower chest seemed slender, almost slight. Only
when your eyes rose higher up her back did you suddenly notice the deltoids
that flared out to surprisingly broad shoulders, and the dense slabs of muscle
that coiled across her upper back. I could see that the slimness of the rest
of her body only disguised her true power. It was her arms and shoulders that
were the main sign of danger. Her arms were not only over six and a half feet
in span when fully outstretched, they were heavy for the whole of their length
with firm-packed slabs of muscle. Her arms, shoulders, and the heavy slabs of
muscle that powered them, must easily have made up over half the weight of her
torso.

"Both you guys had better just get out of my way," Brionn said. "Cause I'm
getting pretty mad right now."

"You think we'll let you hand us to the police?" Stanislav said. He stretched
out his arm. "Give me the key - the key to the boat!"

"You still haven't got it, have you?" she said, frowning. "I'm giving ALL the
orders." She took a step back, and spun on her heel, her left foot lashing out
to hit the unsuspecting Malcos hard in the chest, knocking him heavily to the
ground. A startled Stanislav struck out at her with his heavy fist.

But the girl seemed to have all the time in the world to evade his crudely
telegraphed punch. She swayed out of range, took a quick side-step, and then
sent three lightning-fast jabs whistling hard into his face. Her reach was
astonishing, her long right arm striking right through Stanislav's guard to
land all three blows in the space of a heartbeat. So fast did her arm move
that I couldn't see the individual blows land. I heard the crack of each one
distinctly though, as the larger man's head snapped backward, and he staggered
three paces back.

I was amazed at the larger man's reaction. I hadn't expected those light jabs
to make him stagger. But as the girl backed off a pace, I noticed blood
flowing from his now-mishapen nose, and a deep cut below a swelling lip.
Appallingly, Stanislav seemed less aware of his surroundings than a second or
two earlier, and he moved with just that little bit less precision. He lifted
a hand to touch his face, staring at the blood that smeared the back of his
hand. This, at least, seemed to make him really angry. I was glad to see his
anger, and I waited for him to take it out of this lanky impudent teenager.
And now he came at her wildly, fists lashing out like scythes.

Brionn scuttled back several paces to avoid his swinging blows. Once the
larger man almost struck her, but she ducked backward beneath his punch, then
changed her direction altogether, side-stepping once more, to use the full
length of her arms to launch three more stingingly accurate jabs to his head.

Although two inches shorter, her reach was longer than his, and her arms moved
with such speed that he had no chance whatsoever of evading her jabs once she
had them targetted. I couldn't believe it. This girl was just sucker-punching
the best fighter in our group. What was worse was how hard those long arms of
hers could smash in those jabs! Her arms were so strong that her jabs hit with
the force of some guys' full punches. I could tell from the harsh sound of
their impact and Stanislav's grunts of pain as they hit, that those super-fast
blows were astonishingly powerful. Barely fifteen seconds had passed since the
fight had begun, and Stanislav's whole face was a mess. One eye was bruised
and closing, both lips were split, and another stream of blood had begun to
flow from a broad dark bruise below his hairline. And he had not even managed
to touch the girl yet.

Stanislav swung at her again. But this time his blow was even farther off
target. She swayed easily out of reach, smiling as her long right arm launched
another two punitive jabs. Even harder than the ones before, they rocked his
head sharply back and to the left. The punches were appallingly potent, for
now her opponent began to stumble and miss his footing, trying hard to clear
an obviously spinning head. He looked almost out on his feet. I was horrified.
The girl seemed to be giving Stanislav a convincing beating without even
needing to hit him full force.

"Hit her!" I shouted in panic. I was wondering how many more of those
punishing jabs he could take.

I gasped with relief to see that Malcos had managed to get back to his feet
and was about to come to the rescue. But before he could do anything to help,
Brionn took a step back, then felled him with another heavy spinning kick. She
must have seen him get up, out of the corner of her eye. At once she turned
her attention back to the larger man. Her eyes narrowed as she measured up the
approaching figure of Stanislav. I saw her body twist momentarily away from
him. Her right arm unwound.

This time the blow hit with full force. Her fist crashed in like a homing
missile, hard into the side of his face. The harsh crack of the impact was
three, four times louder than the sound of her jabs as it united with
Stanislav's startled moan of pain. That one colossal blow almost felled him.

I was still shocked by just how hard this girl could hit. Just one of those
punishing blows had put me out of action for over ten minutes. I was very
nervous now. Stanislav was our best, almost our last hope of defeating this
girl, who was becoming a larger obstacle to our freedom with each passing
minute. I prayed that he had something in reserve, that he could hit back and
halt this succession of damaging blows. For all our sakes, he had to overpower
this impossibly troublesome teenager.

But before he could make any sort of counterattack, Brionn ripped in three
more huge punches. I despaired. The girl hit so unbelievably hard, with
appalling speed and power. A right, a left and another savage right tore into
his chest, stomach and breastbone, the massive follow-up giving him no time at
all to recover from her first huge blow. Those blows simply destroyed his
ability to respond, and she knew it. I heard three deep groans of combined
astonishment and pain as I watched Stanislav sent staggering back toward the
shanty. I'm sure only the solid wall of the shack, when he hit it, kept him
standing on his feet. The girl's blows were so powerful! Her victim was bent
over in clear and substantial pain. He was fighting for breath, a hand held
across one of his ribs. Those three big punches seemed to have sapped a
frightening amount of his strength, and he seemed in no position to offer any
further resistance. Brionn took another step towards him, fists clenched for
another fearsome barrage.

But suddenly Malcos was back on his feet once more. He lunged for the girl,
trying to grab hold of her from one side and take her down with him.
Instinctively she twisted out of the path of his charge. She was so damned
fast. Her speed enabled her to evade him by inches. Turning, he came at her
again. But this time she was ready. Her right arm coiled around his
outstretched left arm, her hand clamping about his bicep even as her left
gripped his shoulder. Then, with a sudden, jerking twist, she simultaneously
straightened her muscular right arm and wrenched it up and back, her left arm
still holding his shoulder in place. Malcos screamed as, with a ripping,
tearing crack, his arm simply snapped at the elbow.

It hung down loosely at his side as the girl released him, her dense-muscled
arm rippling in the fading sunlight as she drew it free. Malcos sank to his
knees moaning with pain as he cradled his limp left arm

However disastrous it had been for Malcos, his intervention had at least given
Stanislav a few precious moments to recover from Brionn's huge punches. His
damaged face a mask of fury, he now made a desperate roaring charge at the
girl. Brionn had no time to get out of the way. Now at last the tide seemed to
have turned. The larger man must surely take her down.

But Brionn didn't try to avoid him. Her right leg flashed upward in a simple
blocking kick. Stanislav groaned in pain as her heel crashed into his upper
chest, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Right," Brionn said, matter-of-factly. "Now I'm going to beat the crap out of
you."

She stepped forward, and sent her long arms into blistering action. I watched,
appalled, as eleven huge punches powered into the larger man, one after the
other. It was a fearsome sight. The 200 pound twenty-five-year-old was
literally taken apart right in front of my eyes. It seemed impossible for a
slender frame like Brionn's to generate such devastating power. But her whole
body twisted into each massive blow, augmented by the astonishing strength in
her arms and wide shoulders. The sheer noise as her colossal punches crashed
home was solid evidence of the huge amount of damage they must be doing. It
was like hearing a series of hundred pound sand bags dropping to a concrete
floor.

After the first big blow hit, I knew it was all over. Stanislav was not fast
enough to avoid the first punch. And that one huge blow slowed him terribly.
Each blow that followed did such massive amounts of damage that any hope of a
rally or a recovery was futile. The girl's face took on a look of grim
satisfaction as her arms did their work. She knew exactly what she was doing.
It was no longer combat but punishment, an object lesson to the rest of us in
exactly what she could do if she really wanted to. Stanislav's body bowed and
caved before her colossal punches, transforming before our eyes.

The most visible changes were to his face. After just four of her punches his
jaw hung down at a crazy angle, the nose had been reduced to a shapeless ruin.
His eyes were closed, and his left cheek had caved in, giving his face a
haunted look. A tooth dribbled out of his shattered mouth.

Then she began to transfer her massive blows to his body. These, incredibly,
hit even harder, as her powerful arms warmed to their task. Each fierce blow
drove him at least two paces backward. Within moments he could no longer stand
upright, his body bent forward and sideways by the sheer impact of her
punches. His groans now united into one continuous moan of pain as those
monstrous blows crashed in. I heard dull cracks from his ribs as he struggled
painfully for breath. He crashed back into the timber wall of the shack as hit
after hit smashed into his now fragile-looking body. I was shocked at how it
buckled like a straw doll beneath Brionn's sledge-hammer punches. Her final
big bodyblows snapped both sides of his collarbone, leaving his arms hanging
useless at his side.

At last she stopped hitting and stood back, drawing a deep breath. There was a
slight sheen of sweat on her pumped arms and torso from the energy she had
just expended. But she was still far from exhausted. The frightening thing was
that she looked capable of handing out more of those shattering blows if she
needed to. It just wasn't necessary. Her older victim was utterly destroyed.
His body was broken, his face face misshapen and unrecognisable. His legs gave
way beneath him and she watched him slump to the ground.

Behind her, Malcos stared open-mouthed as Brionn turned back to him, awed by
her immense display of power. He made to turn and run, but wasn't fast enough.
The girl's long legs took her up to him in two strides. A left arm to his
shoulder spun him round, straight into the path of her powerful right, which
sent him staggering drunkenly backward. The sound of two more huge punches
echoed across to me. I watched, open-mouthed as the unconscious Malcos slumped
silently to the ground.

"Right," Brionn said turning to face Armand and me, fists tight clenched at
the end of her strong arms. I realised suddenly that we were the only two of
the seven of us still capable of standing. "Are either of you going to give me
any trouble?"

We shook our heads.

"Okay," Almost reluctantly, because I could see she was still sufficiently
angry and able to deal ot more of those big blows, Brionn allowed her hands to
open. "You two can fetch all your group's belongings and spread them out on
the ground there - so I can see everything. Do it now!"

Armand scrambled painfully to his feet. "What about the others?" I said. "Some
of them are injured."

"Bring the two men from down the beach up here," she ordered. "Then spread out
all your goods as I told you." We nodded. There was nothing else we could do.
Neither of us dared provoke her to use those powerful arms of hers on us
again.

"Don't try to move him." She pointed to Stanislav, his eyes half-open, but
lying motionless on the ground and breathing weakly. "He has a lot of broken
bones. Leave him for the medics."

Tomas and Goram were carried up the beach to where Brionn waited.

I looked round and took stock. Not only had she overcome all seven of us, but
most of us were in no state to offer any further resistance. Stanislav, Goram,
Malcos, Tomas, and Falyar needed hospitalisation. Armand and myself were too
intimidated by this girl's power and ability to inflict punishment, to offer
any resistance.

She ordered us to open all the baggage of the group and spread it out on the
ground. Of course she found the sealed packages in each bag. Those packages
meant jail sentences for all of us if they got to the authorities.

"Look," I said. "I don't know about this. I just help people into the country
who need a fresh start. Whatever is in those packages has nothing to do with
me. Why not lets bury them or throw them in the ocean."

"Uh huh." She shook her head. "Let's not. What I'm going to do is tie the both
of you up, and take you in with me. The rest of these guys will have to wait
here for the coastguard." She sent Armand to the speedboat for some rope. I
didn't know what to do. I daren't attack her. I tried to beg.

"Please. Don't do this." I said. "You don't know what you're doing. These men
are refugees. They'll go to jail, then be sent back where they came from..."

"That's not up to me," she answered as Armand brought the rope. "Now turn,
both of you and put your hands behind your backs."

"But..."

"Now." she said.

Hopelessly we obeyed. I wanted to fight to overpower this teenager. But I was
too frightened of what those rock-hard fists of hers could do. Her speed and
ability to hit so hard made her more powerful than Armand and I together, and
she knew it.

Brionn had tied the cord tightly about our wrists when I heard the sound of an
outboard motor behind us. "Sit down in the sand." Brionn commanded. We obeyed
as she turned towards the approaching speedboat.

Continued in Part 3