Mullet promptly whips out his knife. It is about two inches long, the edges seem to be blunt, but the tip looks razor sharp. This knife is intended for stabbing. It could do me some real harm, I hope that he doesn’t know how to use it. He tosses it from one hand to the other trying to intimidate me. It does the complete opposite. I slightly move forward, thinking about the timing of my first move. He starts to slash at me wildly. I jump backwards reassured. From his grip on the knife, and the way he was slashing wildly at me, I figure he has no idea what he is doing with his knife.
I jump in, pushing my belly out so it is the most exposed target on my body. This would normally be a risky move, but I’m not to worried, the worst thing that he could do to me is give me a nasty scratch. He falls for my trap, and slashes at my belly. I suck it in and step into him. I grab his wrist with my hand and turn into him. My back is flat up against his chest. I wrap my other hand around his fore arm, he slightly panics, not knowing what to do. This fight is as good as over now, so it doesn’t matter. I crouch down quickly and sweep his legs out from under him, while still holding onto his arm. As he goes down I twist my hands until I hear a snap. His knife flies straight up and I pluck it neatly out of the air. He is lying on the ground, clutching his snapped forearm with his good hand, while screaming in agony.
His four cronies don’t know what’s going on, so they don’t all react at the same time. The first one to react is completely unsure of himself. He is nervous and as he approaches me I punch him in the windpipe, kick him in the stomach then while he is doubled over I kick him in the face, knocking him to the ground. He’s out of the fight. My kick broke his nose, so his face is covered in blood, and he is winded, he will be panicking for a while, and the fight will be long over by the time he can breath again.
The next guy to react almost gets me. I see a fist coming at me from the corner of my eye. Just before it makes contact I manage to dodge backwards. As his fist flies past me, I hook my arm under his arm pit, and I plunge the knife into his shoulder blade with my other hand. He will be in agony but he will still be able to fight, I need to take him out. I push with all my might in a sharp burst onto the knife and with a satisfying pop his shoulder comes out of its socket, just like opening an oyster. Three down, two to go.
By this stage though the other two are working in unison. I turn around to a punch right in the face, I move with it so he cant punch me again. But I move right into the path of my other accoster and he smashes me one in the face as well. My head is spinning, I stumble into a forward roll to try and get some distance between me and my opponents. I regret using the knife so early, I could have taken that fellow out another way, and still have my difference maker. But my blood is pumping now, I am fairly confident that I can win, and quickly.
We circle each other, none of us willing to make the first move. They crack first and both lash out with simultaneous punches. Normally I would try and parry a blow, but while being attacked in unison, it makes it much more difficult, and far more painful if I mess up. I settle with dodging for the time being. My fatigue levels are spiking, and I secretly rue working out before coming to the party. If I had of been well rested I would be able to work in a much better capacity, I am sure that the fight would be over by now otherwise. I keep circling stalling from making an offensive move while I figure out my best plan of attack.
Another flurry of blows come my way. I deflect most of them, but one or two strike home. My vision starts to go blurry, one of the punches got me right in the side of my head. I shove them both backwards with all my might to stop their onslaught. They fumble backwards giving me some breathing room. But they quickly recover and are right back one me. I’m finding it hard to think, or focus. They come in at me again, throwing fists left and right. This time much more hit home.
I collapse backwards, my momentum carries me over and back onto my feet, giving a few paces difference from me and them. I stop thinking and charge in at them. I take out the one on the left first. They seem a bit surprised by my advance which plays to my advantage. As I reach the bloke on the left I jump up and smash him in the side of his head with my knee. This knocks him cold. Four down one to go.
The last fellow tries to kick my in the face as I turn into him. I catch his foot, my first instinct is to smash my elbow into his knee to try break it. I stop myself though, part of me hopes that I stop myself because knee breaking is taking things a bit to far, but deep down I know that I stop myself because it takes too long to break someone’s knee that way. Instead I sweep out the leg in which he is balanced on. He hit’s the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. I stamp down on his abdomen, to give me some time. And then I run.
I run for my car as quick as I can, I am not waiting around for those jerks to get up, or for more of their friends to show up. I quickly catch up to Alex and the virgins, the fight in reality took no more than two minutes, but it played out like an eternity in my mind. So I catch them just before they reach my car.
Trench coat looks at me and I can see the worry in his eyes. So far this is turning into a wonderful first house party for them. I mouth to him not to worry, and we start to get the two drugged members of our party into the car. Spotty, glasses and braces strap bowl cut into one of the back seats, while trench coat and I strap Alex up front into the passenger seat. Trench coat looks like he wants to say something to me but I stop him, motioning him into the car. We don’t have much time, I want to get out of here as fast as I can.
Spotty, glasses and braces sit in the back beside bowl cut, while trench coat hops into the boot. That would sound callas of me to make someone get into the boot, but there is no partition between my boot and the rest of the car. It is basically a big, unsafe seat. I hop into the driver seat and start the ignition. I look up over the steering wheel, and I see Mullet hobbling around the corner, he is still clutching his broken arm. He spots me and starts shouting abuse, I’m not to worried, sticks and stones you know. Then seven big burly guys run up beside him. He starts yelling some more in our general direction, and his new cronies charge at us.
I put foot to floor and screech into a one eighty turn, the thugs are now directly behind me, but gaining fast. I gun the engine and slowly pick up speed. My car is not supposed to have so many people in it, things are going to be dangerous.
I peek up at my mirror, Mullet and his goons are starting to be distant memories, when all of a sudden a pick up truck speeds up beside them, they hop in the back and the truck zooms after us. Looks like we got a good old fashioned hillbilly drag race going. And things are not looking up for me. If it was just me in the car I could easily out manoeuvre the pick up, but with all the added bodies in the car, its feeling sluggish and unresponsive.
I put the pedal to metal and quickly end up in fifth gear. The engine is roaring its disapproval at the strain I am putting her through, she will just have to bear with it. I speed out of the estate and down the road, hoping that I can out pace this truck. I look up into the mirror again and the truck is almost on us. I keep my cool and start to zigzag on the road, making it harder for the truck to ram me. Unfortunately that’s not what they had in mind.
I look out my wing mirror to judge my next swerve. When all of a sudden with a loud bang, and an explosion of glass my wing mirror disappears. They were shooting at us. My car is going as fast as it can, the truck is gaining on us, and some mad man is trying to turn us into Swiss cheese. My passengers are bricking it, there is shouting and cursing coming from the back, I think tears as well but I am concentrating too hard on not being riddled to pieces to care.
The truck rams into the back, that’s going to hurt trench coat, as I think that he comes flying up front. Obviously not wanting to be so close to the menacing impacts of the truck. Although in fairness it was barely a nudge, I’m going to fast for them to get a good hit on me, for the time being anyway. I keep weaving in and out, trying my best to not give the gunman a clear aim, and not to allow the truck to nudge us into a spin. That will result in game over, if this was GTA anyway, to bad its real life.
The stress of the situation is getting to me, I know I’m going to make mistakes if I don’t do something. I palm my mp3 player, hoping a song will come on. It comes up Metallica, “Battery”. I smile to myself and think “It’s on bitches”. My moods are easily influenced by music.
I start weaving faster, taking a higher risk of being shunted by the truck, but its paying off, the gunner hasn’t gotten off another shot. I try to think out my next move, but my best plan is to stay alive and hope that a cop see’s us. Not bloody likely though, its really late and the Gardaí are never around when you need them. There might be a slim chance that there will be a cop patrolling the motor way, hopefully I will survive long enough to find out. The only thing between me and the motor way is a twisty, winding country road, barely one lane wide. The turn off for which is now. I skid my car across the path of the truck, onto the narrow secondary road. The truck zooms past, but that wont give me much time. This road has only one exit, that is a good bit away, giving the truck plenty of time to play catch up.
The road is muddy, and the only source of light is from my head lamps. This is going to be horrible. I don’t slow down though, no matter how dangerous it is on this road, I wont slow down, I wont let them catch us. I speed down the glorified lane way, skidding around corners, narrowly missing trees and walls. The road starts to slowly get brighter. I look in my mirror to see the truck is on our tail again. We’re about half way through this obstacle course, then we just have the motorway to contend with. With another bang, behind me lights up, they must be shooting at me again, I don’t think it was well aimed though. I couldn’t hear an impact or ricochet from the slug.
I almost loose control on the next corner, narrowly avoiding smashing into a gateway, but I scrape by. The truck manages the same corner but I think the driver is shaken. They drop back a bit, giving me a small bit of breathing space.
I speed around the next few corners, barely getting by. I really have to break to get around them, my poor break pads, I hope they don’t give up on me. We are almost at the motorway, and my car is the worst for ware. The last corner I almost bought it, scraping of the side of a wall, causing me to loose my other wing mirror. Betsy had seen better days…. Yeah you caught me, I called my car Betsy, what of it, I have more important things to worry about right now, like trying to not get myself killed, people if I die, my story ends, no more hearing from me. Ok now that that’s sorted, back to the car chase.
Another bang and another flash of light. This time I see the bullet hitting the road just ahead of me, he’s getting closer and closer with his aiming. I start to swerve again to throw him off, and almost plough into a telephone pole in the process. I just scrape by. But fortunately we hit the entrance to the motor way. I speed down the ramp and onto the carriageway, the truck gaining ground behind me.
The motor way was dead in the direction I was going. Away from the capital, the other lane although was busy enough. People going into the city for work and the like. The truck is right behind me again. I am weaving from lane to lane. And this motorway is three lanes wide in each direction, giving me lots of room to zig zag around, crippling the gunners chances of hitting me.
I am tearing down the motor way, there is not a police officer or speed camera in sight. And now that they have brought in barrier free tolls I wont even be able to get the attention of a toll booth worker. The truck tries to shunt me again, but luckily I out manoeuvre him. Its getting to close, I need to come up with a plan or else I will end up a Jill sandwich. I look over to the opposite side of the motorway and a cunning plan hits me smack in the face. A plan as cunning as a fox who is the head professor of cunning at Oxford university, who is having a particularly cunning day.
I have to time this perfectly, one false move and we will all be dead. I begin to breath faster, thinking about my next move is terrifying me. Its one thing to risk my own life but the lives of everyone in the car is another thing. I’m not happy about it but I have no other option. As I prepare to put my plan into action tears start to flow freely down my cheek. Part sorrow, part fear, the tears betray my reluctance of the plan.
I see a break in the partition separating the traffic flow, and I put my plan into motion. With a deep breath I pull my car across the motorway and into the oncoming traffic.