by G Mottram
Erin led him through the crowds to the edge of the woods. Ten metres down the wooded hill the Skins waited for him.
At least twenty of them were lined up between the trees forming a human corridor. They all stared at him, totally silent.
‘We have to go through them or it’ll look bad,’ Erin whispered. ‘Watch their feet.’ Without missing a step they strode between the first two Skins.
The jeering leapt out at them - foul language, pointing fingers darting out, hate filled faces pushing forward. Steel tipped boots kicked out for Jason, threatening to cripple him before he even set foot in the Pit. He blocked them with his own feet but they were slowing him down. If they stopped in the middle of this they wouldn’t have a chance.
Erin flicked out two extendable steel batons from her sleeves and then, like some demented Morris dancer, she smacked four knees and ankles in little more than a second. The Skins all shoved back, swearing loudly.
‘Your friend Mouse is not the only one who plays with sticks.’ Erin grinned, casually striking another knee without even looking.
The Skins all pulled far back while still swearing and gesticulating. Erin spun her sticks happily, looking for an excuse to hit something else as the two of them ambled through the foul-mouthed gang. Just as they were stepping out of the human corridor, one big Skin with a snakehead tattoo on his cheek lent forward and spat at Jason. Jason dodged most of it and flicked out two fingers to strike the lad’s nose.
The Skin roared and stepped forward, blood already welling out of his nose. Erin whacked him on the head with one steel tip and he crumpled. Furious shouts erupted from the Skins and they surged in around them. The next moment though, Brash members appeared from nowhere and formed a tight circle around Erin and Jason.
‘Warming up nicely,’ Erin laughed as she grabbed Jason and dashed out of the Brash-Skin face-off.
And then Jason caught his first view of the ‘Pit.’
It was like a three sided amphitheatre in the hillside, perhaps fifteen metres across at the bottom with steeply sloping sides rising up the hill and a low lip leading down. The sides heaved with pupils.
‘Fight, fight, fight…’ it started quietly at first, everyone - Skins, Brash and normals - joining in and staring at him with violence-hungry eyes.
Without realising it, Jason had stopped. Erin touched his elbow and they pushed down through the crowd.
There was a definite hierarchy here – non-gang members higher up the slopes, gang members lower down sitting ‘ringside’. The Skins were on the left half, being joined now by the dispersing human corridor who pushed through to find their places. The Brash, smartly dressed, some sipping from silver hip flasks as if they were at Ascot races, stood smiling and joking on the right.
Jason and Erin got through the ringside crowd unscathed and stepped onto the Pit floor. It was a mix of scrappy grass tufts and dry dirt. There was a massive tree stump in the centre of the hollow, smoothly sawn off about a metre above the ground. The noontime sun streamed through the break in the leafy canopy overhead and spot-lit the stump.
Jason looked around him, trying to appear calm. There must have been five hundred or more faces staring down at him from the slopes, chanting louder and louder, pushing, hanging out of trees - all of them baying for pain and blood.
Baldwin was nowhere in sight. Had he chickened out?
Very self-consciously, standing at the edge of the hollow, Jason began to loosen up - swinging his arms, turning his wrists, his neck, stretching and flicking out his legs. The noise got louder. Jeers and laughter rose over the chanting now, fingers pointing and the back rows of Skins mimicking his actions like demented monkeys. Jason felt heat flare up his cheeks but he carried on – settling in to his warm-up routine, trying to clear his mind.
Then the taunting broke into a cacophony of cheers from the Skins and boos from the Brash. Jason eased up from a split stretch to see Baldwin rising above over the lip of the hollow.
A huge Skin, broken-nosed and bare-chested with a black skull tattooed on his right cheek was walking up the hill carrying Baldwin on his shoulders. It was Grizz – the Skin who had held his gang in check during Jason and Baldwin’s initial confrontation.
The two of them lurched to a halt in the hollow and soaked up the cheers. Grizz’s heavy muscles rippled as Baldwin perched on his shoulders and punched his fists into the air.
‘Oooh, the big guns are out,’ Erin said, winking down to Jason who had resumed his stretching. ‘You remember Grizz… as in Grizzly Bear? He’s Callum Mennis’ second in command. Big bugger and bloody strong… I wish I hadn’t asked to be your escort now.’
Jason swallowed as Grizz started a circuit of the hollow with Baldwin sneering down from on-high and whooping with presumptuous victory. The Skins loved it and the shouting and screaming began to be underscored with a chant of ‘Grizz… Grizz… Grizz…’
Jason shook out his wrists again and glanced at Erin. ‘Where’s my shoulder ride?’ He had to shout to make himself heard over the crowd.
‘In your dreams,’ Erin said, without taking her eyes off the two Skins.
Grizz and Baldwin rounded towards them. Standing where they were, close to the edge of the hollow, the human bear would be forced to walk around… or through them to complete his circuit of the hollow.
Erin’s twin batons slipped into her hands again. Was this how it would begin – some impromptu tag team fight?
Then Erin tossed her weapons away to another Brash girl in the crowd on their right.
‘What’re you doing?’ Jason hissed as Grizz and Baldwin stomped towards them.
‘No weapons allowed in a bare knuckle fight,’ she said calmly, glancing across at him and shrugging.
‘Bugger - hope you’re some use without them,’ Jason managed.
‘Sadly, today I’m just here to pick up your pieces.’ Erin grinned.
As the two Skins approached, Jason and Erin squared up to them. Jason steadied his breathing and settled on the balls of his feet. If they tried to bulldoze right through then…
Grizz stopped a step away, lumbering to a halt like a fall of boulders. Above him, Baldwin’s web-stained face loomed down seemingly from the tree tops.
The crowd stilled, waiting to see what would happen. Baldwin’s lip curled in contempt and he began to chant, jabbing one hand down rhythmically inches above Jason’s head.
‘You’re gonna diiiiie - and you know you are.
‘You’re gonna diiiiie - and you know you are.’
The Skins to his left began to join in, drowning out what seemed half-hearted jeering from the Brash to his right.
‘Bugger this,’ Jason mumbled. Without a hint of what he was going to do, he suddenly stepped back a pace and leapt into the air, flinging his right foot in an arc-kick and slapping Baldwin’s jabbing hand away.
Jason landed in a crouch and whirled his right foot around to stop an inch behind Grizz’s knee. Had he hit him, both Skins would have come crashing down… as long as Grizz’s tree-stump of a leg buckled of course.
There was absolute silence. Jason looked up at the mountain of muscle looming over him and wondered if he’d made a mistake.
Grizz’s rock-troll face was unmoved by his display of skill but Jason was glad to see Baldwin trying to flex his hand without anyone noticing.
Erin leapt into the silence. ‘Anybody want to see a fight?’ she shouted and sprang onto the central stump. Her long red hair flamed in the sun and sunlight seemed to burst from her.
The crowd erupted into cheers, the Brash loudest of all this time.
Jason, still crouching, rolled back from Grizz’s mighty legs and flipped to his feet. He was almost beginning to enjoy himself.
He strolled over to wait at Erin’s right hand below the stump and scanned the crowd. He stifled a satisfied smile - standing a good way up the hill was Louisa. She had her back against a tree and was watching him silently. Mouse was next to her, arms folded and his face set like stone. Then Dariu
s stepped into view on Louisa’s other side, brushing his shiny blond hair back from that pretty-boy face. Jason looked away.
The crowd began to quieten down again.
‘Right, here comes Callum Mennis, leader of the Skins.’ Erin whispered down to him from the corner of her mouth. ‘No fancy, Bruce Lee stuff with this one or he’ll kill you… he’s not as friendly as Grizz.’
Jason looked around to see who she was talking about.
From the midst of the Skins stepped out the meanest looking youth Jason had ever seen. He was only as tall as Jason but tightly muscled and perfectly poised. Wearing ripped jeans and only a sleeveless black leather top, Callum Mennis was completely hairless. His face, eyebrows, head and chest were all smooth and glistening. Half his torso was tattooed with all manner of tortured souls, triumphant demons and red-eyed snakes. A scar ran from his right ear down most of his neck.
Baldwin quickly slid down from Grizz’s shoulders and the two of them took their places behind Callum.
Erin stepped down from the stump as the crowd fell quiet and still. Complete silence descended all around the hollow now - no one daring to show any disrespect.
A stirring in the Brash crowd caught Jason’s eye and Fast Eddie stepped out from the sea of designer jackets and sunglasses. He was the tall, floppy blond haired, immaculately dressed antithesis of Callum Mennis’ raw malevolence.
‘Kind of gives you hope for the world doesn’t he?’ Erin whispered to Jason with her eyes fixed on the leader of the Brash gang.
Callum Mennis and Fast Eddie met in the centre of the hollow and stepped up onto the stump at the same time. They faced each other with just a foot or so between them. Eddie, a head taller than Callum, reached up to slip off his Ray Bans and pocketed them before nodding once. Callum lifted his chin, his small, mean eyes like obsidian chips. Without a word, they turned their backs on each other to face their respective gangs.
Callum began, his voice, hard and clipped. ‘Fight-time. A new boy, Jason Willow, has pissed off one of ours and now he’s gonna pay his dues.’
The Skins all straightened up, threw a fist in the air and cried ‘FIGHT-TIME.’
Fast Eddie took over, his voice rich, cultured and in total contrast to Callum’s. ‘Fight-time. Young Jason here is not one of ours… but as he is taking on one of theirs we offer him protection in and out of the Pit.’
The Brash all clapped three times then shouted in rhythm ‘FIGHT-TIME.’
Fast Eddie and Callum stepped down without looking at each other and walked back to their gangs. Released from this bizarre ceremony, the crowd burst into roars and whoops.
‘Kick-off,’ Erin shouted to Jason over the bedlam. ‘You’ll be fine – just remember to hit him harder than he hits you.’
Jason nodded as Erin trotted off to join Fast Eddie, front and centre of their gang.
Jason stepped further in to the hollow, closer to the stump. Opposite him, Baldwin did the same, the huge Grizz slapping him hard on the back and grunting ‘kill him’ above the crowd’s hysteria.
As Grizz strode back to join Callum in the Skin’s front row, Baldwin stared at Jason and ran a finger slowly across his own throat.
Jason just raised his eyebrows. He’d calmed now, his stomach was still slightly clenched but with excitement as much as trepidation. He took a ready stance, his left leg a little forward and his fists relaxed but up at face height.
The crowd started up again. ‘Fight, fight, fight...’
Baldwin sneered. ‘Your kungy fuey won’t help you in here, you prat.’
‘How’s your hand?’ Jason shouted above the chanting.
Baldwin rushed forward and punched with a right. Jason blocked easily, latched onto Baldwin’s wrist, twisted and propelled him straight into the crowd.
Laughter broke out through the chanting.
Baldwin span around. He was furious but there was no rushing this time. He stalked up to Jason with murder in his eyes and started punching.
Jason blocked each blow with his eyes levelled on Baldwin’s chest so he could see every limb. Baldwin tried a vicious kick but Jason swept it aside almost before it left the ground and pushed him away while he was off balance.
Baldwin stumbled sideways, almost falling, and the laughing grew louder from the Brash and the normals higher up the slopes. Jason glanced up to the top of the hollow to see how Louisa was enjoying the show. She wasn’t even watching; she was whispering something in Darius’ ear.
Smack. Baldwin’s furious punch hammered into Jason’s cheek and sent him sprawling in the dirt. Head ringing, Jason automatically tucked into a roll to get him away but Baldwin was right on him. A steel capped boot caught Jason in the stomach and he crashed into the front row of Skins.
Immediately hands and fists jabbed at him. Jason pushed himself up but someone kicked his hand away and he crashed down again. Baldwin was on him instantly, another boot cracking into his ribs sending a red wash across his eyes and bile halfway up his throat as he sprawled face first into the dirt.
Anger and fear surged up in Jason and desperately, he swung his arm up in an arc at Baldwin’s knees.
It felt as if a wave of ice shot through his arm and balled in his fist. The strike should have unbalanced Baldwin at best, but Baldwin’s legs were hammered out from under him and he flipped backwards to slam down on his back.
Gasping for breath, Jason scrambled away from the Skins’ clutching fingers and clambered to his feet. His head still swam and his ribs shot hot spikes into him but he could stand. Groggily he stumbled over to stare down at Baldwin’s prostrate body.
What had he done to the boy?
Suddenly Baldwin grabbed his leg. Without thinking, Jason lashed out a back-fist at his temple. Baldwin went down again, instantly pole-axed. Jason stepped in to flick-kick him in the chin, but stopped an inch before making contact. There was no need. Baldwin wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
Dizzy, his vision blurred and ribs aching, Jason stepped back and raised one fist.
The crowd erupted, jumping up and down and chanting his name – everyone that is, apart from the Skins, who began pushing their way out of the hollow in silence. Grizz, as Baldwin’s escort, was presumably the one meant to pick up the pieces. However, he just spat on Baldwin and left with the rest of his gang. Baldwin groaned on the floor and curled up in a ball.
Jason felt suddenly drained as if he’d spent too much of himself. His mind seemed to become encased in a sight-blurring, sound-muffling jelly which vibrated with each throb of pain from his ribs. A mass of jumbled faces began to flood down the banks into the hollow and converge on him. Desperately he searched passed them to look for someone to get him out of there. Where were Louisa and Mouse – had they already left? Had Louisa even stayed to see him win?
A moment later, Fast Eddie was standing next to him, flanked by Erin and about thirty Brash.
‘Well done, old boy – a fine show.’
Baldwin, curled up amongst scores of milling feet now, struggled to stand then stumbled quickly away.
Eddie glanced at him, his nose wrinkling as if there was a bad smell. ‘One less baldy-boy to worry about, I think. Something tells me they’ll cut him loose after that little performance. Good work - Mr Brash said you were one to watch.’
Jason gingerly touched his bleeding lip – it felt huge. ‘Thanks - I was just trying to hit him harder than he hit me.’
Standing by Eddie’s side, Erin grinned broadly at him but she stayed quiet. Her leader was doing the talking.
‘Good tactic. However, flipping him into a somersault while you’re lying flat on the ground was a little obvious. We should have mentioned that you don’t want to show everyone here all your… skills.’
‘I don’t know how I did that,’ Jason whispered.
Eddie smiled. ‘Oh really? Well now, we could help you there.’
Jason didn’t answer - he just attempted a smile and rubbed his ribs again.
Fast Eddie shrugged, his eyes narrowing f
or just a fraction of a second. ‘I dare say Mousey and his delightful non-girlfriend have been warning you about me and my nasty gang. They’ve told you we’ll steal your soul, have they?’
Jason kept his mouth shut and looked at the floor. Eddie laughed amenably. ‘I’d want to stay in the lovely Louisa’s good books too if I were you, Jason, but do remember that there are other equally lovely girls that Silent Hill has to offer to the… right boy.’
Jason shrugged. Was Eddie taking the micky?
‘A shame they didn’t stay until the end… make sure you were okay and so on.’ Eddie said. ‘Anyway old chap, fantastic job today but don’t get too… complacent. You need to learn what you’re really capable of in case you antagonise someone a little more scary than Dick Baldwin next time.’
‘Uhh… right – I’ll think about that. Thanks,’ Jason nodded then had a mental picture of himself as some nodding-head dog in the back of a beaten up old car and held his head still. He glanced at Erin. ‘and thanks for, you know, your help and all that.’
Erin winked at him.
‘Plenty more where that came from,’ Fast Eddie said, breaking into his characteristic broad smile. ‘You know where we are.
Then he slipped an arm around Erin and led his gang up out of the hollow, shooing away the few remaining gawking normals.
Jason spat out some more blood and started back towards Silent Hill on his own.
***
Baldwin wasn’t on the bus home that afternoon although that wasn’t anything unusual. The Skins could catch any one of a dozen or so other buses that expelled the Drunken Abbot ‘scum’ swiftly through the beautiful cottages and landscaped streets of Darkston village and out beyond the fences into the town’s grey terraces.
However, Louisa wasn’t there either.
‘She has revision classes.’ Mouse said, obviously noticing Jason’s disappointed face.
‘Right.’ Jason said, plonking himself down with Mouse on the back bench seat
