Nasir was lucky that the edge of what used to be his weapon hit his hand instead of the nails driven into it. It knocked his nails away from his enemy's face. His other hand came free of the plank and he raised it just in time to catch the man's hand before it crushed his throat.

He barely stopped it in time and struggled to keep it away, grunting, focusing all his strength on the fist and not the man's face. If only he had.

Nasir kicked again, desperately, at any place he could get to. He needed to get free and roll out from under him. He'd sacrifice his weapon but he'd have his life.