I landed on the cushioned sofa. For a second I didn’t think I’d get up again. My brain was saying ‘move’, and my muscles were saying ‘hell no’. Caro was grabbing me around the middle. If that giant managed to pick me up, there was nothing stopping him from hurling me down on something and I’d break for sure. The human body is frail, compared to the floor, or a rock, or the edge of a table. So, I got an elbow up and hit him in the eye. A lucky strike. Caro rocked back, like an annoyed grizzly. No one likes to be hit in the eye. Even a bug can hurt there.

I was hanging down off the sofa where he’d dropped me. The Opinel knife was right in front of my eyes. I unwrapped the wooden handle from around the sofa leg, and clenched it in my fist, like a roll of quarters. I’d found a way to cheat. A solid object clenched in your fist acts like brass knuckles. It isn’t a question of weight, but of structure. I rolled off the sofa and came up swinging. My reinforced fist smashed into the side of Caro’s head. He staggered sideways.

I was done screwing around and was on him in a flash, looping the braided fishing line around his neck. Then I swung behind him and pulled, quick, before he got his fingers in there. The line dug into his flesh, making an angry white line in red-corded muscle and popping veins.

He was staggering around like a wounded bull. I was riding him, legs wrapped around and holding on for dear life. He was flailing with his arms, trying to get me off. But I was persistent, keeping tight to his body, hugging myself in where he couldn’t reach. I had the Opinel handle in my right hand, while the left forearm braced against the nape of his neck. I was holding the line taut but stable enough to restrict the air flow. The beast was shuddering and snorting. He was trying to get oxygen to the brain, I was trying to prevent that. Problem was, I couldn’t put immense pressure on the line, or it would break.

So I held the tension, enough that Caro wasn’t able to get a real breath in, just a quarter breath maybe. When I felt him sucking wind, I’d twist harder and apply an extra ten or fifteen pounds of pressure. Careful to keep the oxygen flow restricted.