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What a Night it was!? (2002 short story)

Action story with some explicit language and violence. Written in 2002.

What a night it was!

There are some nights, when everything seems to go wrong. Well tonight was that night. And when I say things were bad, I mean in the ultimate extreme. How is it that a normal promising Saturday turns into such a wildly screwed evening?

Now what happened, that was so bad, you may ask.

Are you ready?

To start things of, I was with my beautiful bride to be, she is sexy, very classy and smart, well maybe just sexy and not so smart. As for class, well she was with me so maybe not that either. I had promised to take her to one of her favourite (expensive) night spots. As we were making our way there, two things happened. One, she began to tell me that she was not feeling comfortable with our relationship.

” I have been thinking, for some time now, I just can’t seem to grow with you. What I need is someone who wants to expand with me. Carl said that, you are limiting my horizons. He feels that your inadequacies may affect my career.”

Her career, she was a model that had done a few bikini shoots. She like many beautiful women, who have a great body think that looks alone and not talent will assure them great things. The thing that really got to me, was this Carl. Who is Carl, you may ask, well he is her, agent. A former hairdresser, male model-turn agent. I didn’t mind that Carl was her agent. He was gay, and I felt no threat from him.

” Carl and I are in love ” she told me bluntly.

As a full stop to this sentence, a loud boom shrieked out. My car had blown its front tire. I struggled to control it as I slowed it and stopped it along the side of the road.

I looked over to her.

“What?”

“That’s right, Carl and I are in love. I think it is the best thing to happen to me. He and I have lots in common.”

“What you both like to give blowjobs?” I asked now growing angry.

“That is so typical of you. Don’t take things so personal. You feel threatened, as you simply are not in touch with your emotions. Carl said you would act in this fashion.”

She got out of the car, grabbing her purse she stormed into the night with a feminine huff.

“Where the hell are you going?” I asked chasing after her. Leaving my crippled car to the road.

“To get a taxi, and then to see Carl. You cannot even take me out without a mishap.”

“You think this is my fault that the tire blew?” I asked.

“Well it is your car” She answered bluntly.

“Come back, its dangerous out there. Here let me get the tire fixed and I will take you wherever you want to go.” I attempted to negotiate with her backside.

” You have blown your chances. I am sorry. But you have to deal with the consequences.” And with that I stopped following her. She stormed into a phone booth.

I turned and walked back to my car. What had just happened?

I laboured to fix the tire and watched as a cab picked her up and took her into the night and likely out of my life. As I rolled the spare tire to the front I heard a voice in the distance. It was more like a war cry. Adrenaline began to spread through my system.

“Mutha Fucker Got Car troubles!”

I stood up and saw four gangster-uped young men approach me. Their pale faces and blonde locks betrayed the rap music video fashion sense that they wore.

“Yo, biatch what ya gunna do?” asked a short skinny mouth with his bright yellow hat turned to the side.

They also seemed to have borrowed the language and image from the music video.

“Look guys, I’m just trying to change my tire then I will be on my way.”

” Fuck dat ! You mo fucker. Maybe we don’t like you and wanna make you pay for being such a bitch.” Was the reply from the same mouth.

Where was rationality when you needed it. I knew all too well where this was going. The tyre iron was out of reach, so I would have to do this the old fashioned way. The nearest jerk, a big round bubble of human flesh approached me and stared with glazed eyes. He hulked over me, as though his large body was going to absorb or even consume me.

His eyes lit up as my left hand speared into his throat, followed by my right which cupped the back of his head. Pulling him down and myself into him, I drove my knee with as much force as I could into his sternum. He fell forward onto the pavement in a fetal position where he limply laid. The pain caused him to beg for his mother.

The other three now where ready to attack, the small leader backed up, hopping up and down with nervous energy. A rod thin black jacketed member of the group lunged at me with a wide right hook, that made John Wayne look like a pro-boxer. I changed levels and dove into his waist, seizing him by his legs, with a nice deep and strong base I picked his light, yet gangly body up and drove him down into the cement. His head broke his fall.

It was all on now, as I stood back up ready to attack the other two I was confronted with a trolley handle, that had been liberated from K-Mart property. It slapped against my shoulder. As I instinctively raised my arm to protect my head. Immediately my right hand ploughed into the pimple faced wielder. I felt his chin compress behind the force of my blow. I thought I would make sure he was out of the game, so I followed up with thrusting knee to his groin and a nice sharp over hand elbow from my left side that cracked open his skin across the side of his face. If he could open his eyes all that he would now see was his own blood.

Now I was just angry. The little punk that had the big mouth hopped around the side of my car. I stormed after him stepping over the teary eyed hulk of one of his friends. He pulled out a butterfly knife and made it dance in his hand. I continued stalking him. In the open and on the road I neared him, staring blankly into his eyes. He had a lot of hot fear going through his, as he spat out obscenities at me I stared into his shallow soul. He leaped forward like a crippled fencer. I easily parried and clinched with him. His still outstretched knife holding arm was locked up. The action caused him to drop it. Now with my arm locked around his head and shoulder I squeezed. He began to stop struggling, and fell to the road. I held the lock a little longer than what one would ordinarily consider healthy. He fell with a thud.

I looked around ready for one of the others but they still seemed content with laying on the cement. Where they belonged. I began to walk to my car when I heard the screech of another car’s tyres and the heavy revving of a performance engine. The sound grew closer. The two punks that were laying near my car also heard it and re-gained their legs and bolted into the night. The other two struggled back up and left without any grace as they limped. The car was a red BMW 840, the driver struggled to control it as the slick road provided little traction for the fast machine. I dived out of the way as my car and the BMW merged into a tangled wreck of flames and steel. The loud impact was followed by the kinetic screeching of my car as the BMW pushed into into a nearby building, a mutation of metal and masonry crumbled into an insurance nightmare.

Shaking my head I looked helplessly as my once immaculate 1998 Audi S4, began to erupt into flames. Another car had by now appeared, it slowed to review the wreckage. I walked briskly away from the slowly brewing heap fearing that it might burst into a greater fireball. I then noticed two men step from the black sedan. They were dressed in long black suit jackets and had expensive sun glasses covering their eyes. Quite the fashion statement at ten pm.

I thought to ask them what was going on when, the balder one of the two pulled from his coat’s interior a long smoothly metallic automatic shotgun.

” FUCK ME ” I thought before I kissed the bitumen.

A blast of pellets zipped above me. The other RayBan wearing man began to thump automatic blasts into the wreckage with his assault rifle. The bald shot gunner stormed towards me. I leaped up, grabbed my balls and dived down the nearest alley way. Hoping it had a way out. Behind me I heard the roar of the shot gun. Thankfully this guy was more into Hollywood stereo-types than actual combat shooting. He fired the cannon from his hip, missing me by a good meter.

With all of the swiftness of a petrified street cat I pounced over obstacles and clawed my way up a fence. My nice dress clothes now, sweat soaked and bitumised, tore as I leaped down onto the paper covered alley. I stopped taking in a deep lung ful of air and looked down the alley. The sedan, with its high beams on began to crawl down the alley. Deciding that hiding behind a large bin was not sufficient against these guys. I sprinted towards a doorway, certain that my speed would have taken gold at the last Olympics I belted at the door. An elderly man opened it. With the politeness of a hungry shark I ploughed past him and ran through his house. It stank of chicken shit and old person sweat. An odour that Calvin Cline really should look into.

Cautiously I stepped out of the front of the old man’s shop-home. Street lights illuminated the night. and their was no sign of the sedan…yet. Now maybe I should have gone back into the old man’s place and called the police. But how long would it have taken before they arrived. And on top of that, if they weren’t already on their way with the gun fire and the car crash, then they were never going to come.

Running across the street in search of somewhere safe, and somewhere that the RayBan warriors would not find me. I still had not really had time to think and analyse what was actually happening. And even if I did, would you expect me to make any sense of it. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw head lights. I ducked behind a bus stop and pressed my body as flat as I could. The car sped past.

Just as I relaxed and let out the air from my lungs, I heard the vehicle lock up. It turned squealing as it did so and jumped up onto the sidewalk. Hanging out the window was the man armed with the assault rifle. The Armalite spat its fiery death out into my direction. The bus stop shattered as the rounds tore through it and continued their search for my flesh. I had no intention in staying in their line of flight. Again my legs carried me with surprising speed out of harms way. For the time being.

I slammed my body against a wall, as bullets followed me and chewed away at the brickwork of the building that was now my present saviour. Dogs began to howl and I could hear the whine of police sirens. Finally I thought.

Looking around the corner I could see that the gunman was re-loading as the bald headed shot gunner stepped out the car. I had a small window of opportunity to run from this pinned position that I was in. I saw as I jogged down one of the side streets an open dis-continued block of flats. Terribly decorated in graffiti, I unwisely decided to seek refuge inside. Leaping up a shabby stare case past a sleeping news paper covered drunk, I found myself looking out through a partially boarded up window.

She left me for a God damned queer ! I thought. Even in this adverse situation that is all that I could think about. The present reality and dangers, however snapped me back to it all.

The sedan pulled up out front. Three men stepped out, the shot gunner, the man armed with the Armalite and the third the driver brandishing a sub machine gun. These guys meant business. But why on Earth, would that business include me.

Whose toes had I stepped on ? And would their ass still be available for me to kiss ? With this kind of retribution I must have stomped on them toes heavily.

I heard the blast of the shot gun followed by a scream, their was another blast. I then realised that the drunk on the stare case, now was sleeping for good. I looked around the room searching for a weapon. In a corner that had been used as a toilet I saw a sharp stake. It would have to do. Stealthily I crawled near the door way, using the shadows I hid near frame ready to ambush whoever dared to come in.

Sweat poured down across my face and stung my eyes. I could hear my breathing as though it was in stereo. Another sound caught my attention, the creaking of floor boards. Someone was coming. I held my breathe and waited. Sucking in a lungful of dust and stale urine as I did so. I could see a large shadowy object step through the door way. Looking up at it, I readied myself. It did not look human. Instead it looked like a monster, a great predator ready to snatch my life away. As it took another step, I lunged up at it. The stake ramming deep into the man’s lower stomach. He curled over, I grabbed his weapon and pulled it from him. Yanking the man to the ground I drove the stake in again to make sure he was dead. It did not occur to me that I had just killed a person, in my mind I had stopped a nightmarish monster. The entire ordeal seemed strangely natural. I did it as though I was in automation.

With the weight of the Armalite in my hands I now felt the anger of my situation over come me. The prey now had teeth. Now I could get some vindication. “Fuck you all” I snarled as my finger stroked the trigger like it was a lovers clitoris.

Stepping into the hallway I looked down and could see the shadowy figure of the sub-gun armed driver. He cockily walked towards me, he must have thought I was the man I had just killed. Before he would realise who I was, I sent a burst of lead into his approaching body. The rounds tore away at flesh and bone alike. He fell awkwardly to the floor.

One more left I thought. It was time to get the bald prick. It seemed that I would not have to wait long. From down the stair case I could hear him running up towards the noise I had caused. Looking like the lead singer from Midnight Oil, he fired his shot gun at me. The blast ripped away the wall nearby. I pulled back on the trigger of my carbine as I fell backwards. My burst missed but sent him diving for cover.

I was inside a small room, that seemed as though it had been intended to be a bath room. Laying in a prone position I looked towards Midnight Oil’s direction. He was crouching and seemed uncertain of what his next move would be. I would soon seal that uncertainty.

Standing up he crept towards me, I fired a three-round burst at his centre of mass. He shrieked as he dropped the shot gun. Leaving my position I fired another burst into him to make sure he was dead.

Down stairs I could hear the sirens of police cars. I dropped the weapon and stepped outside with my hands raised. I felt relieved that they were here. Though I had no explanation as to what had happened.

A large police officer cuffed me as his partner covered me with his Beretta. Faced down on the road I felt his hands go over my body. I stared blankly at the pretty lights.

Down at the station an hour or so later, I sat uncomfortably with my hands cuffed behind me. A round detective sucking down a cheap cigarette looked at me with scepticism.

“Ok buddy, wanna let us know what happened ?”

I looked at him through tired eyes and answered.

” My fiance left me for a queer.”

After all that had happened, that was all that really bothered me. So there you go. Maybe you can tell me what happened and why. I sure as hell have no idea. The police explained that the goons in the Sedan where nasty assassins. They figured they were after me as they feared I may have seen to much. Who knows, though as it was all in the vein of the night.

I figure that I am in for some good luck. Feeling my hand cuffs come off, I turn to see the smiling face of a tall, beautiful blonde. Her warm eyes affectionate and her blue uniform accentuating her perfect womanly curves.

” I’ll drive you home, it is the least I can do considering all that you have been through tonight.” She said

Maybe Sunday will be a whole new day. Just another day for Gary Sue.

Published inShort stories and fictions

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