by Paul Jones
Like a ghost, he glided past by the team they didn’t even hear his footsteps on the short grass. Mike, Guy, Brad and Phil watched slack-jawed as he entered the ring. The crowd went into a confused silence. Geoff turned and saw Will approach him wearing a black hooded tracksuit. He stopped beside him.
Geoff was speechless, but the sight of his old pal coming towards him was like spotting a life boat on the horizon coming to rescue him from the sea.
‘Will, what’s going on?’ he asked him.
Will flicked a look at him then turned to the tall man with the slick-back hair.
‘So you want a bit of a wager?’ asked the tall man
‘I want to buy my way into this fight. I’ve got fifteen grand, if I win I get my money back, if I lose then it’s all yours?’
Geoff glared back at him, and then over to his staggered team’s faces. Razor, not having experienced anything like this before, smirked at the cheek of this minnow standing in front of him. The tall man, however, sucked on this mouth-watering proposition with balls attached to it and found it all too tempting to refuse. He smiled back. ‘OK.’
Will slipped his hand inside his tracksuit pocket and handed over a thick wad of notes to Boss Man.
‘Wait, Will, you don’t have to do this,’ Geoff cried, but Will calmly waved him aside as if he was merely in the way.
Boss Man and the balaclava quickly escorted Geoff back out of the ring to stand with his stunned team. Will eyed his opponent closely, he watched how he stood, which leg he preferred to lean on, his expression, his eyes, everything. Next he glanced down at the watch Stacey had bought him. He unbuckled it, and tossed it over to Geoff who just about caught it. Then he slipped out of his tracksuit top and lobbed that over as well, leaving only a well muscled torso in a black sports vest.
Razor looked over to the tall man as if to say do we go or what? He got back a nod in return. The fight was on.
Geoff and the team watched wide-eyed and with hearts ready to burst. Razor lumbered forward in a crouch while Will circled to his right, keeping his distance. Razor looking like a bloated Mike Tyson tried to inch his way nearer to Will and cut him down ready to pounce. But Will wasn’t going to have any of it and continued shifting about. For now at least Will intended to see exactly what artillery his opponent had. Razor made a feint, and Will darted out of the way causing the crowd to boo him.
‘Don’t listen to them, Will,’ Geoff shouted. ‘You do what you have to.’
Becoming a tad frustrated, Razor straightened himself and re-set his stance as if to say to Will that he was completely relaxed, and hopefully lure Will into an attack. But cunningly Will stuck to his game plan.
They continued moving about with Razor trying to hunt him down, then Will decided it was time to go up a gear. Will cut his distance down and allowed Razor to get in a bit closer. Razor’s eyed twinkled with delight as he saw that Will was falling into his trap. He lurched forward with a big right followed by a winging hook – both missed. The blows were hard but sloppy, Will thought.
He gave Razor another chance and he responded again with some wild punches. Will retreated but only enough so as not to take the full brunt of the blows, and he caught one in the right rib. The team winced, and Razor’s mates cheered with encouragement.
Will felt winded, but he had only done this so he could taste his opponent’s power. Again he dabbled in danger, and Razor launched another attack. He threw a few low jabs, and tried to come over with a big right haymaker which Will took on the arms. Will felt the weight of the punch alright, but he wasn’t fazed by it. Razor tried to finish off the attack with a thumping low kick to Will’s thigh which knocked Will off balance. The crows ooh’d and ahh’d.
‘Come on, Will,’ Geoff shouted.
Will had now seen enough of what Razor could do and it was time to go to work, he moved safely out of range, then stopped dead like a bull ready to charge. Razor lifted his head to say ‘come on then’, and Will gave him a sarcastic grin. Razor went after him but this time Will didn’t run. As Razor came into range firing a power-house right, Will ducked to his left, and came under with a sickening left hook to the ribs. It sounded like someone hitting a bag of cement with a golf club.
‘Yes,’ the team cried.
Will stayed within range and as Razor followed him, he pumped out jolting left jabs in his face which rocked his fat head back. Geoff and the team clenched their fists jubilantly.
Instead of back-pedalling, Will moved side to side so he could remain in range and fire off his own power shots. Razor continued after him throwing wild desperate blows, just looking for that one big punch, but Will kept that ram-rod jab in his face. Soon red welts and tiny swellings started appearing on Razor’s face, but still he continued to come forward. Yet as he did, Will would jab, even double jab, and move his head to the side so Razor didn’t get to counter punch. Will even threw the old right punch, left punch combination just for good measure.
The expression in Razor’s face had now changed he looked like someone who had been given the wrong answer sheet to an exam. Seeing this Will was ready to step up another gear and started trading with him to get off his own power shots. Call it sod’s law, or whatever, whenever things seem to going to plan something always goes wrong. And this happened in the form of Will stepping into a divot or small burrow in the ground and he toppled over. The team held their breaths, and Razor’s men screamed for him to get him.
Way ahead of them, Razor threw himself down on Will, who just managed to jam his legs out to stop him from getting on top. Frantically, Razor tried knocking Will’s legs out of the way to get to him for a ground and pound. His large blubbery arms flailed away at Will’s head but none of the blows got through as they were blocked. To get himself out of this dangerous situation, Will only needed to catch an arm so he purposely drew his legs in a bit so Razor could lean over him more. This seemed to work as Razor threw his whole body weight into a poleaxe blow aimed at Will’s head. Expecting this, Will shifted off his right shoulder and using Razor’s momentum, rolled him off to the side and straight into an arm bar. In total panic, Razor bit down hard into Will’s calf muscle, and Will had to release the grip.
Both of them scrambled back to their feet, but Will was quicker and thundered into Razor’s lower stomach with a deep side kick. Razor staggered back for the first time – clearly he was hurt by this. The pair of them now started to blow a bit, Razor a tad more than Will.
Sensing a weakness, Will switched his game plan and began goading Razor into attacking him. Moving perilously close so he could even smell his body odour, Will dared him to try and pound him. Razor roared like a wounded lion and threw himself head first into Will, his arms swinging wildly. Will closed his guard and held on as best as he could.
‘Will, get the hell out of there,’ Geoff cried, but what Geoff didn’t realise was that Will was trying to get Razor to burn himself out.
Catching most of the blows on his arms and shoulders, he bravely or stupidly continued to wave Razor in. With spit and slaver running down his chin, Razor charged in again but this time Will came out of his guard and turned his hips and shoulders into a tremendous right punch. The blow smashed into Razor’s forehead stopping him dead in his tracks, his feet seemingly, wanting to carry on without the rest of his body. Will switched to his left for a cracking left hook to Razor’s temple breaking his equilibrium. Geoff and the team were going crazy.
Razor staggered sideways and tried to turn his face away from a crashing roundhouse kick which connected with his head. Down he went, but as Will lined him up for the kill, Razor’s mates fearing for his downfall, rushed the ring to try and protect him. Geoff and the team were ready to pile in too but the balaclava security immediately leapt into the fray with their .38 revolvers, and began herding them all back out of the ring.
However, unbeknownst to everyone, this rush into the ring was just a crafty subterfuge for one of Razor’s mates to slip him a pocket sized
blade. A kobun knife to be precise. Finally order was restored and the fight could continue.
Geoff shouted over in protest. ‘Oh yeah, now he’s had a good time to recover. That’s not fair.’
Will keeping his cool turned back to Razor and let his head drop back as if to say here we go again. Razor a bit unsteady on his feet, and blood trickling out of his nose was careful to conceal his weapon so that only the short serrated blade poked out in between his fingers like a claw. With renewed confidence, he began to pursue Will again. Will wanted to see what Razor had left, and made the mistake of allowing him get in close again. That’s when Razor slashed his forearm. Will leapt back clutching his arm in shock.
Geoff reacted straight away. ‘Hey, he’s got a knife, what’s going on? I thought it was no weapons.’
But Geoff’s protests were ignored, even Mr tall man looked on impassively as if he had money on Razor and didn’t want to rock the boat. Geoff tried to rush into the ring, but Mike and Guy restrained him. Will looked around, vulnerable. What the hell was he supposed to do now he couldn’t even use his tracksuit top as a shield. Quick thinking, Geoff tried to toss it over to him, but one of the balaclavas snatched it away. Despondently, Will gazed down at the deep flesh wound and set himself ready to fight for his life. Razor smiled hungrily and began the chase. Will did his best to keep as much distance as possible and use his legs to try and block the strikes. But all Razor had to do was slash his way through, catching Will across the thigh twice, and then the knee cap.
Geoff and the team winced in horror. Will limped back and realised that he had to change his tactic quick or his legs were going to get cut to pieces and he would be a sitting duck. But a sitting duck Will was becoming, as his movement was now hampered by his injuries, and Razor found it easier to hunt him down.
Switching to Will’s upper body, he caught him across the shoulder, the chest and the stomach causing serious damage to the muscles and tendons. Will scowled in agony, it was like being gouged with searing hot needles, but he continued.
‘Shit, shit.’ Geoff panicked.
With blood streaming down his arms, and seeping through the jagged slits of his black vest, a soporific shock began to take its hold on Will, slowing him down even more. He missed dodging another slash which tore down the side of his cheek bone, crying tears of blood instantly. The wound was deep and glistening. Will staggered back, eyes blinking, losing their focus a little, the loss of blood causing more shock and confusion. Desperately, he glanced towards Geoff and the others signalling that he was in trouble now.
Geoff made a move, but the balaclavas stopped him with their revolvers. Razor exhausted from all the knife gashing glanced over to the tall man for the order to finish Will. He received a curt nod.
‘No,’ Geoff cried, and the balaclavas had to restrain him.
Razor envisioning the New Year with yet another reprieve, another victory, lurched in for the killer stab. Will sensed him coming and held out his hands to try and save his life, but Razor came underneath and thrust into Will’s abdomen as if he wanted to gut him like a fish.
Standing there helpless in the clutches of the balaclavas, Geoff went limp with horror as he saw Will hunched over the knife, motionless. Above him, Razor’s whole body quivered under the strain as he held on to the knife with all his strength. But the look of satisfaction on his face soon began to dissolve into alarm as he could feel his hand slowly pulling away from Will’s body. The blade hadn’t even struck, the lethal stab had been blocked in a double wrist-lock. Will had set his own trap and fooled him. Turning his head towards Razor, he eyed him like a demon who had just snared an unsuspecting soul. Razor knew his time was up, and he almost smirked at the irony. In a nano-second, Will turned his wrist over, spinning Razor’s arm, and with the palm of his hand, snapped the joint at the elbow. Razor cried open-mouthed, and his dead arm dropped the weapon. Will fired a battering roundhouse kick to Razor’s chest knocking him to his knees. Will, soaked in blood, dived over him, pulling on the broken arm for leverage, and stretched him out into a crucifix hold.
Locking him within a cage of bone and muscle, Will pulled on Razor’s head with all his might until the atlas, the critical juncture of the skull and spinal cord snapped. Razor was killed instantly, and would not see that New Year after all. Will collapsed exhausted
Geoff, the team and the whole crowd froze with disbelief.
Feeling Razor’s almost severed head rolling on his chest like a football on a piece of cord soon made Will want to move. Straining with fatigue, he wriggled out from under Razor’s cumbersome body, and scrambled back to his feet.
With only the mellifluous sound of the torch flames flickering in the breeze, Will limped back out of the human ring. Everybody stood aside and let him through. Geoff and the team watched reverently, and were uncertain whether or not to approach him. Then Geoff remembered Will’s watch and his tracksuit top, and that gave him the excuse he needed.
‘Guys, wait here a minute,’ he told them, and marched towards Will.
But it was the tall man who first blocked Will’s path. He handed back Will’s fifteen grand, and in a cut-glass English brogue, he said. ‘Astonishing, fight my friend.’
Will looked up at him. ‘Where are the hostages?’
‘Don’t worry, we always keep our word, my chaps have just gone to fetch them.’
Will nodded wearily and pushed passed him, hearing the man say that if he ever wanted a career out of fighting, just let him know.
‘Will?’ Geoff called out to him.
Will stopped, and half-turned his body to him. For a second Geoff struggled to get his words out. ‘Thanks, Will.’
Will’s head moved with acknowledgement, and Geoff winced silently at the gory sight of his pal’s lacerated cheek bone. Fortunately, the bone itself had taken the brunt of the force so it had avoided the important facial muscles and tendons.
‘Should get those wounds seen to Will?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve already got that sorted.’
Still trying to come to terms with what had happened, Geoff stuttered. ‘Shit, Will, I thought you were a gonner there.’
Will shrugged. ‘Well, I wasn’t quite as bad as I let on, he was a fly caught in my web.’
Geoff smiled weakly, ‘How did you know where we were tonight? How did you manage to find us?’
Will huffed. ‘I’ve still got low friends in high places.’
‘Well you were right about one thing,’ Geoff confessed.
Will lifted his head in question.
‘You were right about there’s nothing like the sight of a battlefield after war to inspire peace between kings and generals. I know what you mean now.’
Will was glad to hear but too tired and bloody to show it at the moment.
‘Listen, Geoff, I don’t want to appear rude, but I’ve got to get these wounds patched up.’
‘Let us drive you to A and E?’ Geoff pleaded.
Will shook his head. ‘Can’t go to the hospital, edged weapons have to be reported to the police.’
‘So where will you go then?’
‘I know some people, they’re already waiting.’
Geoff didn’t need to ask who these people were he was simply content in knowing that Will would be taken care of.
Will turned around to leave. ‘Got to go, Geoff, see you around sometime.’
Geoff remembered the watch and the top. ‘Will, I almost forgot, here s’ your top and your watch that Stacey bought you?’
Will stiffened as if the mention of her name slashed him deeper than any weapon. He looked down at his empty, trembling wrist, and sealed his eyes against the agony of a broken heart. Holding his voice together, and hiding his face from Geoff, he said, ‘the watch is broken now, Geoff. I can’t fix that anymore.’
Geoff knew exactly what he meant, and it sickened him to the stomach at how cruel Fate had been for him. ‘Will I’m so sorry I…’
‘G
eoff, Geoff?’ someone called out to him.
Geoff turned to find Jan standing with the team, plus Tom, Charlie and Nigel. There she was, alive, and completely unhurt. His heart soared and forgetting his old pal for a moment, he rushed over and they fell into an embrace. Will nodded with contentment, they were safe, all of them safe, then he limped silently out of their lives.
Geoff wrapped himself up in his wife, smelling her sweet aroma once more, and he thanked God. He lifted his head from her shoulder and saw Tom, Charlie and Nigel being comforted by the rest of the team. They, too, looked drained, but relieved. Tom caught Geoff’s eye, and they both just stared at one another. But Geoff was too relieved to be resentful, instead, he just shook his head at him – at least they were all alive. Sparing a thought for Will, he looked over to where he had been, but there was only darkness. Will had gone. Would they ever see him again?
Jan turned Geoff’s face back to hers, and he could see in her eyes what a bloody fool she thought he had been. He pressed his face against hers and forgot everything else for now. High above them, the black sky crackled with the sound of fireworks, beautiful florid colours exploded all around. And as the country began the nationwide celebrations, Jan lifted her husband’s chin and said to him, ‘Happy New Year, Geoff.’
