Fear grips me, sense hits me harder, and I realize he might actually kill him. Concern for him overtaking me, I jump to my feet, closing the few feet between us amid the grinding crowd, and start hauling him by the back of his shirt, yelling his name. Begging him to stop. He’s like a demon-possessed, pounding the guy into the ground with swift, trained blows, precisely placed, like a well-oiled machine on autopilot.

Arrick is deaf to me, oblivious to my pulling at his shoulders and ...