If it weren't for the blood pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears, maybe he would have heard the voice hollering at them. Instead he returned his opponents blow with one of his own, followed by a well aimed elbow to his kidneys. Every last bit of pent of anger and frustration was being unleashed now.
As the two continued to circle each other and wrestle in the dirt, an errant foot would strike a container of gas, and a box of matches wound up strewn across the gravel.
If their fight was going to be broken up, it wasn't going to be him who backed down or gave in.