Girl’s a fighter!
Damien felt the ropes come free from his wrists and, with a jolt that emanated from his knees and spread through his entire body, he shot up and leapt towards Nigel, landing hard against the man’s broad back. It felt like hitting a barn wall, but the blow was enough to send Nigel face first into the wall. Unfortunately, Jess was in the way and got squashed in between. The air exploded from her lungs in a great ‘whooof!’ as she fell to the floor like a puppet without strings. Taking advantage of the confusion, Damien swung his fist.
And missed.
Nigel turned and ducked the blow, countering with a punch of his own. The man’s large, meaty fist connected with Damien’s ribcage with an echoing thud! The air flowed out of him like a whistle on a steam train; a drawn-out, strangled wheeze that seemed to go on forever. Damien fell to his knees and tried hard not to lose focus completely as the pain urged him to lie down and give up.
Nigel stomped towards him like a greasy-haired rhino, grunting and snorting. There was still too little air in Damien’s winded lungs to launch an effective attack, and he was just about to resign himself to the oncoming onslaught when he spotted something.
Damien snatched at the poker that lay strewn at his feet. It seemed to glow in the soft light of the fire like a gift from the Gods. It was his salvation; his chance to knock the greasy haired rapist to hell and back. Damien rose up, sweeping the poker up and over his head.
The clanging sound that filled the room as the thick iron poker struck Nigel’s skull was the most beautiful thing Damien had ever heard. It was music. Head banging music.
Nigel staggered backwards, half-conscious, legs wobbling like a beaten boxer’s. Damien watched the whites of Nigel’s eyes roll back into his head. Watched as his hulking body crumpled. And watched as Nigel fell backwards into the fire.
With an agonising scream, Nigel’s eyes rolled back into their normal position as his mind was forced back to lucidity. His head lay in the fire like it was a pillow; a pillow that quickly roasted and blistered his skin. Like a greyhound out of the starting gates, Nigel shot forward, leaping away from the fire like it was trying to consume him whole. The flames had died down to embers; most likely the only reason Nigel wasn’t a human fireball right now. The whole thing happened so quickly that Damien couldn’t think fast enough to react to Nigel’s enflamed body hurtling towards him.
When the knife entered, it felt like a bee sting, followed by a huge amount of pressure. Damien thought it was ironic. About time I found out what this feels like. I always thought it would have been sooner
The pain was unbearable.
###
“What in the blue hell is happening tonight. I mean FUCK!” Harry felt like he was going to go insane, smash the place up like a coked-up rock star. He’d just watched a teenage boy get ripped to shreds like minced beef on a taco. This on a night where the world was being consumed by a never-ending torrent of snow and hooded demons stalked run-down English council estates for kicks. On top of everything, it all seemed to have something to do with him. They had called Harry ‘the sinner’.
“Seriously, can anybody tell me what is going on? I just watched Jerry get ripped apart by God-knows what, and now we’re trapped in a pitch-black supermarket surrounded by a bunch of homicidal monks.”
“I don’t think they’re monks,” said Kath.
“Me either,” said Harry.
Lucas walked over to the front fire door and looked out into the snow. There seemed to be movement outside. He turned around and faced Harry. “I think it would be shrewd if we thought a wee bit less about what they be and a lot more about how to get passed them and back to the pub. The others need us.”
Harry let air flow slowly from his lips, trying to calm his beating heart. It didn’t work and left Harry feeling even more anxious. ”We’re screwed, you know that?”
Lucas nodded. “Aye, but better to take a shagging standing up than to bend over and take it.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve obviously spent some time in prison, right?”
Lucas grinned. “You could say that, Harry Boy, and you wouldn’t be too far from the truth.”
“Okay,” said Kath. “Can we just do what we’re here to do? It’s even colder here than it was outside.”
Harry nodded and started moving. “Okay. Let’s get the coal, painkillers, food. Anything we need to take back, let’s get it all piled up over here.”
Kath and Lucas nodded and got to work. Before Lucas ran off into the darkness he saluted Harry and said, “Right away, Major Jobson.”
It was then that Harry realised something important; something he’d overlooked earlier. He’d never told Lucas what his surname was and he was sure no one else had either.
Which begged one question for Harry: How does Lucas know me?
Chapter Thirty-ONE
Jess finally managed to take a breath. It succeeded only in making her nauseous. The sick feeling was due to watching helplessly as a badly-burned Nigel hacked his knife into Damien’s mid-section. Jess was powerless to intervene as Nigel heaved a Steph’s groggy body onto the chair that had earlier held Damien captive.
Jess scanned the floor for a weapon, looking for a solution. The only thing she could see was the trusty fire poker, but it lay several feet away, next to a wounded Damien, who writhed on the floor and gritted his teeth against his pain.
Poor Guy!
Despite Damien’s unscrupulous activities around the local estate, Jess genuinely hoped that he would pull through. As things turned out, he wasn’t as bad as people made out. Wishful thinking aside, though, Jess still had to make it over to the poker without being spotted by the 18-stone rapist currently taping Steph to a chair. Even worse, she had to do it despite the cold sending her shivering body into awkward spasms.
So I have to be silent and stealthy while chattering like an over-excited monkey. Jerry would just love this. I’m sure they’d be a film reference that would fit perfectly.
God, how she would just love for Jerry and the others to come barging through the pub’s doors right now to save her from this wretched nightmare. But if tonight had taught her anything, it was not to hope for the best because things had a habit of getting worse.
Without realising it, Jess had started to move, crawling carefully on her hands and knees, shivering every time she took her arms away from her body. The chill was bad enough that even the fibres of the carpet had begun to freeze over; sharp and brittle, like tiny pine needles digging into her palms. Up ahead lay the poker, and perhaps her only chance to protect herself from Nigel. She looked up at the big man and saw that he was now trying to stir Steph from her fuzzy haze. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he was saying. “I want you to be awake for this. No fun if you sleep through all the fun.”
Steph opened her eyes and managed to focus on him. She spat at Nigel. ”Screw you!” As soon as it had arrived, the fight seemed to leave Steph again. She was too bruised and broken to keep it up. Nigel slapped her hard, the sound filling the room and bouncing off the walls.
Jess closed her eyes and winced, but continued crawling forward, the poker just a few feet away now.
Nigel slapped Steph again, this time a backhand. “Spitting is very unladylike,” he shouted, “and anything ill-befitting of a lady will not be tolerated. If I wanted a bloke for entertainment then I would have tied Damien back up in the chair. Speaking of which, how are you big man?” Nigel turned to Damien who was still moaning on the floor. “Not so hard now, huh?” Then he took a run up and booted the lad in the chest. The air exploded from him like a car backfiring. Jess winced again, glad she wasn’t on the receiving end. She carried on shuffling towards the poker. It was nearly at arm’s length now.