by G R Matthews
SILENT CITY by G R MATTHEWS
CHAPTER ONE
“What the fuck are you still doing in this city?”
The question was heavy with the threat of violence. It wasn’t a surprise. These things happened once, maybe twice, a month. The bruises had usually faded before the next set was inflicted. A fresh bottle of vodka was all I’d come out for. It was cheaper than whiskey and you could mix it with anything.
“I don’t believe we have been introduced,” I said, in the hope that I might be able to talk my way out of this. Judging by the snarl that rumbled up from the heavyset man’s chest, maybe not.
“I don’t like you,” he said. Not an original line, but I suppose he felt he had to start somewhere. There were a couple of friends behind him, but they didn’t seem to want to get involved. A small blessing.
“Really? You don’t even know me.” I backed up a step. “Perhaps if we sat down for a drink or two you might come round to liking me.”
“I don’t like you ‘cos you killed them all.” He took a step forward. I could see the veins and arteries in his neck pulsing. The problem was, I couldn’t deny the accusation. I had killed them all.
“Listen,” it was worth a try, “it went to court and all through the due process of law. Now all I want to do is go home, have a drink and get some sleep. Why don’t you just walk that way and I’ll go the other way. You’ll never have to see me again.”
I’m no ninety pound weakling and, like every person of my age and older, I’d done my service time. He must have had a couple of stone on me, if not more. Another step back and I looked around for assistance. Helpfully, my fellow shoppers had created a boxing ring out of their bodies to prevent my escape. The shopkeepers stood in their doorways, watching the spectacle. None of them made a move towards a communicator or city panel. Store cameras would catch the action from multiple angles and I’d bet this would be all over the clips later on. If I was lucky I might be able to see it through blackened eyes. Unlucky and I’d be seeing double or, even worse, not at all. I wasn’t sure my medical insurance could cover the cost.
The big man took in the crowd, noting their unwillingness to let me pass, and grinned. He took a step forward and raised his thick-fingered hands up in front of his face, curling them slowly to form fists.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, moving towards me.
“I’m not.” I switched the bottle to my right hand. There was no way I was getting through the crowd without fighting them all. It was a battle I was sure to lose. I sighed. “Come on then, get it over with.”
He roared and charged. As his left foot stomped down, shifting his weight forward, he threw a right hook at my head. I stepped forward, into the swing, and down onto one knee. The sledgehammer of his hand passed over my head. The bottle in my hand, I swung upwards, between his legs, as hard as I could.
The great roar he’d given rose in pitch by several octaves into a high, squealing falsetto. I slid to the side as his hands lowered to grab his squashed balls. The squeal ended as he ran out of breath and began to gulp in air like a goldfish.
I decided to do him a kindness he didn’t deserve. Sometimes you have to help people who are in a lot of pain, it is the humane thing to do. However, no good deed goes unpunished and the bottle broke on the back of his head. The vodka splashed all over the floor, dribbling away between the metal grill. I was left holding the neck of the bottle.
“Fuck,” I said, “and who roars before they throw a punch?”
His friends came out of the crowd, eyeing me warily. I didn’t move. They’d seen me take out their leader in the space of a few seconds. Mostly by luck, if I am honest. If he’d decided to grab rather than swing, I am not sure there is much I could have done. If I backed off now they’d just get a free shot at my back. I needed them to be scared of me.
“Pick him up and clear off,” I said and took half a step forward, brandishing the sharp end of the broken bottle in their direction.
“You’d better watch out, mister,” said one of them, a short, skinny fellow with nervous eyes. “He’ll come after you.”
“I know,” I said. The crowd parted as I turned away from the fat man who rested face first in the puddle of my vodka. He’d get to drink more of it than me. The remnants of the bottle went into a recycling chute.
The police would be round later, the clips shows and the shopkeepers would inform them even if the crowd didn’t. That’s why I’d made sure my vodka soaked friend had swung first. The cops knew me and I knew the law. At least those parts of it to do with getting accosted and beaten up.
I patted my pockets, looking for change and realised I couldn’t afford another bottle.
“Bugger.”
WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT GANG AND LIU?
Gang and Liu, the two masters you’ve just met, appear in The Forbidden List series of books which you can find Book #1 of here:
The Stone Road (The Forbidden List #1) http://mybook.to/thestoneroad
If you’re more in the mood for some dystopian Sci-Fi:
Silent City (Corin Hayes #1) http://mybook.to/silentcity
OTHER BOOKS
If you enjoyed this little story then maybe you should check out my other books.
THE FORBIDDEN LIST SERIES
THE STONE ROAD
THE BLUE MOUNTAIN
THE RED PLAINS
Fantasy-Faction Book Club - Book of the Month, June 2016
"G.R. Matthews has taken two of the best things ever created: fantasy novels & Kung Fu movies, thrown them together into a blender and left us with something wonderful."
Marc Aplin (Fantasy-Faction.com)
CORIN HAYES
SILENT CITY
NOTHING IS EVER SIMPLE
THREE TIMES THE TROUBLE (OUT 2017)
Mark Lawrence (Author of Prince of Thorns, Prince of Fools)
"(A) book that isn't short on action or imagination and the setting is an interesting change of pace, so check it out!"
You can also find out more about the books at:
www.grmatthews.com
And you can find me on twitter @G_R_Matthews and Facebook too.
It will be great to get to know you and hear what you thought about the books.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Julia Sarene for the constant encouragement and help with everything.
Also, to my wife Su, for her help with the cover and colours.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
G R Matthews grew up on the edge of the West Country, a place renowned for its rolling chalk downs, hill forts, barrows and ancient stone circles. It was no surprise that he turned a love of reading into the desire to write fantasy novels and science-fiction stories. He holds a degree in Geography and a Diploma in Creative Writing (and literature).
