“Help! Somebody Help me!” came a scream. It was the sound of a woman’s voice.
Alex and Mike looked towards each other and began to run. The road up ahead was clear, but they looked down alleyways and ginnels as they passed them in order to find the voice’s owner.
“C’mon y’bitch. Didn’t you hear the broadcast? Carpe Diem and all that,” laughed one of the four men as they closed in on the young mother desperately trying to push the pram behind her in a weak effort to protect it.
“Please!” she sobbed. “No!”
The four men laughed in unison and closed further in on their target.
“Okay, Mike,” said Alex quietly. “Let me do the talking.”
“Oi! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” shouted Mike, increasing his pace towards the lowlifes.
Alex’s shoulders dropped. “Nice Mike,” he whispered. “Subtle.”
The four men jolted from their lecherous trance, turned around to look at the young man approaching them and the middle aged one trying to catch up. They then looked towards each other and laughed again. “We’re doing whatever the fuck we—” the first thug’s comment was cut short as Mike punched him in the throat. The man stumbled and fell against a panelled fence of a garden which helped wall the narrow alleyway. One of the other men immediately advanced and Mike balled his fist even tighter, smashing him square in the face, making his nose crack and explode in a fountain of blood. The third man started towards him, by which time Alex had tackled the fourth to the ground and begun pummeling him. Alex looked up and watched as Mike swept his right leg round, knocking the third attacker from his feet. He landed heavily on the floor and in a flash Mike was on top of him, punching him in the face like his fist was made of steel. Blow after blow heralded cry after cry as the young attacker realised he was brutally outmatched. Eventually Mike stood, leaving the youngest of the four men sobbing like an infant, despairing as it dawned on him that his face would never look the same again.
Alex looked down, realising the man he had pinned down really didn’t have the heart for this kind of violence; a coward when his friends weren’t there to back him up. He hadn’t laid a finger on Alex, and when Alex’s punches had stopped so the older man could watch Mike, Alex’s victim had gone limp and turned away in the hope that the violence being visited upon him would stop. As Mike got to his feet, disgusted by his crying opponent, the second attacker tried to come at him again. This time Mike pivoted, grabbed hold of the hair on the back of the man’s head and used the momentum to push his face with all his might into one of the sturdy fence posts. Whatever cartilage was left in the man’s nose collapsed in a stomach-churning crunch. A high-pitched shriek of pain followed it, and the man fell to the floor desperately sucking in air, in bloody, gurgling breaths.
As Mike walked away from him, he looked down at the pathetic figure Alex had beaten still. Mike hated bullies and despised cowards, he couldn’t help himself, the young man on the floor was no longer a danger, he was looking as pathetic as he could in order to avoid more pain, but a moment earlier he was prepared to invoke irreparable harm on this young mother, who was now just looking on in a kind of grateful horror. Mike knew Alex would give him hell for it, but he brought his boot up anyway and stamped down hard on the young man’s head, which prompted a pained gasp, then he followed it up, and as he drew his foot back ready to kick the prone figure in the face, Alex raised his hand and shouted, “Nooo”. But it was too late.
Mike swung his boot, the tip made contact with the lips, nose and teeth of the downed figure, all within a micro-second. Blood erupted from the front of his face, while his two canines, top and bottom, roots and all, collapsed inwards. There was a shriek and then muffled whimpering as the would-be rapist lay there crying.
Mike wiped the blood from his boot on the beige cotton jacket of the weeping figure, and kicked him in the ribs hard for good measure.
A look of anger swept across Alex’s face, but he quickly took a breath and went the side of the young woman. “Are you okay, love?” he asked, putting a comforting arm around her. The tears had subsided, and she let herself be comforted by the warmth of Alex’s embrace. She nodded, pulling the pram towards her. “Whereabouts do you live?”
“Just around the corner,” she said. “I was just coming back from my friend’s house.”
“Right, love,” said Alex, “C’mon, we’ll make sure you get home alright.”
Mike pushed the pram while the young mother held on to Alex’s arm. “Thank you so much. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened. Tracey. My name’s Tracey.”
“Pleased to meet you, Tracey. I’m Alex, and this is my son, Mike.”
Tracey looked towards Alex, smiled, then looked across towards Mike and a sorrowful expression crossed her face. “I’m glad the pair of you showed up when you did,” she said.
“So am I,” replied Alex.
They delivered Tracey safely to her flat. She tiptoed and kissed Alex on the cheek, nodded politely towards Mike and closed the door. The two men waited for a second until they heard the door lock and bolt slide across, then they left.
“What the hell was that Mike?” asked Alex.
“What the hell was what?”
“Don’t play dumb. You took those guys down, fine, that’s what they deserved, but you bloody went to town on two of them. That was barbaric,” said Alex.
Mike held the door open for Alex as they left the block of flats. “No, Alex. Barbaric, is doing what they were about to do to that lass. I was just giving them a permanent reminder that that kind of thing isn’t okay.”
Alex combed his fingers through his thick hair. “God, Mike, I don’t know whether to hug you or throttle you half the time. What don’t you understand? It’s right to stop people like that, it’s not right to dish out your own version of justice. You’re not Judge Dredd, you’re not Batman, you’re a lad who’s been in trouble up to his armpits already. The last thing you want is more of it. It doesn’t bloody matter that they were doing wrong. Knowing what the legal system’s like in this country, they could take you to town.”
“Seriously, Alex?” replied Mike. “Didn’t you just watch the broadcast I watched? Do you honestly think the police, the courts, are going to be worried about shit like this after today?”
“I understand what you’re saying, Mike, but it’s up to people like you and me to try and preserve the system as best we can. Don’t you see that, son?”
There was a pause and the two of them walked in silence for a while. Mike eventually broke it. “You’re my best friend, Alex. You’re the man I really view as my father. But the thing is, in this case, I’m right and you’re wrong.”
“Oh really? How do you figure that?”
Mike stopped in mid stride and pulled Alex around to face him. “Let me tell you something. I knew those men. Those are the guys who were popular at work and down the pub. Those were the guys who were charming when they were sober, but when they were behind locked doors at night, didn’t think twice about beating the shit out of their kids. Y’know what, though? That wasn’t the end of it. Because then you’d see that look in their eye. That look…that women were their property, that they could do whatever they wanted. Those were the guys who’d leave a ten-year-old reeling and bleeding on the fucking floor then smile and take his mother by the arm, upstairs to the bedroom. So when you tell me there’s a limit…no, there fucking isn’t. They got off lightly. Fuckers are still breathing, aren’t they?”
Alex thought about a retort, but he had none. He knew Mike was speaking from experience. What that kid had been through, Alex could not even imagine. He’d heard stories from Sandra. It had driven him wild. What he wouldn’t have given to wrap his hands around Mike’s dad’s throat. He couldn’t blame Mike for the way he was, but what Mike was, went beyond being a protector. It went into other realms. In the past, that had always bothered and worried Alex in no small way. Now, this minute, as horrified as the rational side
of him was, it gave him comfort. If anything should ever happen to him, Mike was the perfect man to get the family through this current crisis. He looked across at his step son as the pair began to head home again.
He pondered this as they walked in silence for a while. Alex had always prided himself on his reasoning capability, but suddenly, he had been plummeted into a world where there was none. The dead were coming back to life. There was the imminent danger of lawlessness on the streets. Would reason and rational minds prevail? or would Mike’s idea of justice be what kept people safe? A one-man judge, jury and executioner.
He loved Mike, but he knew him too. He knew better than anybody what he was and what he was capable of. He had tried to mold him. He had tried to make him the best man he could be, and he believed hand on heart he had done that. But there was an impenetrable blackness within Mike. No one could get to it. Not him, not Emma, no one. It was what made him who he was, the man who wasn’t scared of going up against four thugs single handed.
“I’ve always been proud of you, Mike. I always will be proud of you. But for the sake of the family, please…try to keep your anger at bay.”
Mike looked across to him. He didn’t say anything, he just held open the tall garden gate and beckoned his stepfather in.
chapter four
“Seriously? You saw the same fucking broadcast I did and the pair of you come home reeking of beer and…what the hell is that on your hands? Oh my God! Is that blood, Mike?” asked Emma.
“Hi, Sis,” he said leaning in and kissing Emma before heading into the kitchen to wash his hands.
“What the hell?” asked Emma.
“Don’t ask, sweetheart,” replied Alex. “How are Sammy and Jake?”
“They’re fine,” replied Emma, a little irritated at being kept out of the loop. “They went to bed just before the broadcast. They were a little pissed the internet had been out a lot of the day. What happened?” she asked again as she heard the water running in the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it,” replied Alex. “Listen,” he said, taking Emma by the hand, “come sit with me.”
The pair of them went to sit on the sofa. “What?” she asked.
“Why don’t you come and stay with us until we figure out what the hell is going on? You know. we never did anything with your room other than hang a couple of Sammy’s posters in there. You can take a leave of absence from work, I’m sure they’d understand. These are...erm...extraordinary times.”
Emma looked at him. Alex had become a father to her in the past few years. Her own father had been an abusive drunk; a vile, selfish horror of a human being. Alex was anything but.
“I can’t. My life’s in London now,” she replied.
“Emma, sweetheart, your life is with your family. This...thing, it’s going to take a while for it all to sink in, love, but this is the end of life as we know it. It will be a miracle if there isn’t anarchy tomorrow,” said Alex.
“I don’t believe that. I believe people will pull together.”
Mike was standing in the doorway, listening quietly until he heard Emma’s comment, at which point he burst out laughing. “You are so naive,” he said.
“Why, Mike? Because I’m prepared to believe people have a good side too?” she asked.
“Exactly!”
“You’re a dick!” she said.
“Hey,” said Alex, let’s not fall out with each other, we need to discuss this in a calm manner.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” said Emma. “On Monday, I’m heading back down to London. If everybody starts changing their lives and living in the fear of what might be, we may as well all give up now.”
Alex sat back on the sofa and let out a deep breath. “I can’t really argue with that. I want you to be here. These are going to be very dangerous times. I suppose it’s just the father in me, but you’re right. If we start living in fear, we’re promoting fear.”
Mike shook his head. “You’re an idiot,” said Mike.
“Fuck off,” replied Emma.
“Hey!” said Alex, “Enough!”
“Seriously. Are you going to stop going to work?” asked Emma.
“No,” replied Mike.
“Then why the hell should I? Why should I give up my life to come back here and live like a hermit?”
“I’m not saying give up your life. I’m not saying don’t work, I’m saying come back here and we can all look out for each other. If something happens down there, you’re by yourself,” said Mike with a raised voice.
“If something happens up here, I could be by myself. I’m not Lois Lane, and you’re not Superman. If I’m in trouble it doesn’t matter where I am,” she said.
“That’s crap. If we’re together, we can keep tabs on each other. We can make sure we’re all safe.”
“And what do you want me to do while you and Alex go out to work? You want me to do the laundry, Mike? You want me to wash the windows? You want me to keep the house nice? You want me to prepare your sandwiches and make your dinner?”
“Fuck no! I’ve tasted your cooking,” he replied.
“You’re a dick!”
“Hey! The pair of you, stop it now!” demanded Alex. “Mike, come and sit down,” he said gesturing to one of the armchairs, “and stop being a dick,” he said with half a smile on his face. He turned towards Emma, “and you, your brother is only worried about you.”
“Yeah, well I’m not fourteen anymore.” Her voice trailed off.
Alex looked at her, then across towards Mike. The pair of them had been through hell with their abusive drunk of a father. Alex had been told how Mike had often challenged his dad just to take the attention away from Emma and his mum. At just ten years hold he had taken beatings no grown man could have taken. He always did anything he could to protect Emma. He always would.
“You’re being selfish,” said Mike.
“I’m being selfish?” shrieked Emma, standing up. “You want me to live like a fucking Stepford wife just so you can keep an eye on me, and I’m the one being selfish? Y’know, Mike, I’ve still got my science workbooks upstairs. I’m pretty sure there’s a section in there that actually proves the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you. I’m going to bed, I’ve had enough of this shit. Goodnight Alex,” she said bending down and kissing him on the head. She stormed to the door, turned and said, “Goodnight, prick! I’ll shout if I need rescuing in between here and my bedroom.”
Alex and Mike looked at one another as they listened to the exaggerated footsteps hitting each stair. “That went well,” said Alex. “Nice work, son.”
“She’s a prima donna. She always has been,” said Mike.
“No, she isn’t, and no, she hasn’t. As much as I want her here with us, I can’t fault her logic.”
“God, you are so bloody reasonable!” said Mike.
Alex smiled. “You need at least one reasonable head in this family, don’t you?”
“You wanna Bud?” asked Mike, heading into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” replied Alex, “Then come back in here, I want to talk to you.”
“I know that tone,” replied Mike, opening the fridge door. “That’s always a fun conversation.” he re-entered the living room, handed Alex the bottle of Budweiser and sat down. The pair sat in silence for a while, then Mike finally broke it. “Go on then, let me have it.”
“You’re my son, and you’re my best friend. You have greatness in you. You are brave, and you are decent, and you have a good heart, but you see everything in black and white. You see everything as good or bad. Loyalty or betrayal. The world’s not like that. The world is made of shades of grey. Millions of shades of grey. There is nobody, and I mean nobody, who I would want by my side more if I was in a fight. But there is nobody I would want by my side less in a discussion. The thing standing between you and your destiny is your sense of right and wrong. You have to forgive people for their weaknesses, Mike. That priest…” Alex suddenly flashed back to that scene.
> The man was a fool. More than a fool, he was a disgrace, telling a small child her dead mother wouldn’t go to heaven. He deserved chastisement. He deserved punishment from the church. He deserved public humiliation and a reminder about how disgustingly flawed his own religion was. He didn’t deserve being brought so close to death. Alex looked at Mike and suddenly saw him pinning down that priest, unleashing a strike after strike. Explosions of red sprayed over the floor. Unremitting, relentless, bloody violence visited on ignorance, not evil; the priest was a figure to be scorned, not destroyed. Yet…yet Mike couldn’t grasp that. Someone hurts the family, he’s going to hurt them, only a thousand times worse.
“That priest, he was a deeply flawed man. He believed nonsense, and he showed a huge lack of judgement saying what he did to a little girl, but you nearly killed him. You can’t mete out hate for everyone who upsets you, who offends you, who insults the family. You’re not Sonny Corleone, Mike. You’re a good kid. You’re a great kid, but you have to start reeling this shit in. Especially now.”
“Fucker got what he deserved,” replied Mike, taking a swig of Bud.
Alex shot to his feet, “No, he didn’t Mike. Yes, he deserved punishment, but not what you dished out. And where did it get you? You got taken away from your family. We went into debt to pay your legal costs. It was the last bloody thing we needed after what had just happened. But like always, you saw red and that was it.”
“Alex, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Sammy needed someone to step up,” replied Mike.
“Really, Mike? Those screams and cries of ‘stop, please stop it, Mike’, while you were pummeling that prick to a bloody pulp, you think Sammy said that because it made her feel safe?”
Mike tipped the bottle and glugged the rest of his drink down. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to bed.”
Safe Haven (Novella 2): Before Safe Haven [Alex] Page 2
