The Klichka loomed over her, his huge body creaking forward like a rusted piece of industrial equipment. A fist grabbed Alice’s jacket and lifted her to his eye level, boots two feet clear of the floor. Alice slumped in his grip, eyes closed, then brought her right arm up and around in a perfect blow. She put everything she had into it, angled her body weight, shifted back so his chin was at arm’s length. Her fist exploded in pain as his head shuddered. He smiled, teeth bloody, then slapped her face.