The Aztec Saga - Hunted

by J.S. Davidson

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the pain subsided, I stumbled to my feet and out from the alcove. There was no sign of The Aztec, and Andy was lost to the crowd, but it was imperative he be warned. Veronika and Boris knew our location! Rioters still filled the square, obscuring any chance of me seeing Andy.

  “Andy!” I screamed, but my voice disappeared through the yelling rioters. “Andy! Where are you?” I screamed again, hoping my voice would miraculously travel over the chaotic noise.

  I spun on the spot, desperately trying to find him. He had to be alive; he had to be unharmed. Just the thought of him being dead was too much to bear. I knew it was foolish, but I did it before I could stop myself—I stood on the top of a car next to me. I knew as I climbed to the top, I was doing little but giving away my location, but I had to see Andy. I had to scour the square for him. He could not be dead while I lived.

  I scanned the people with squinted eyes. Everybody looked the same in the dimly lit square.

  “Alexandra! What are you doing? Get down, you friggin’ idiot!”

  I looked down. Andy was pulling at my legs for me to climb down from the car.

  I jumped down and landed awkwardly next to him. I was bursting with emotion as I threw my arms around him. “They’re here!” I cried.

  “Who? Who’s here?”

  “Veronika and Boris! She looked into my mind again.”

  “We need to get out of here. Come on!” He grabbed my hand and began to push through the rioters.

  As we pushed further through the crowd, we passed two policemen who were talking on their radios. Apparently, another riot on the other side of Melbourne had gotten out of control and rioters had stormed buildings, leaving many injured or dead.

  An explosion sounded from behind us, shaking the ground and instantly filling the air with dust. We both spun around, trying to see the source of the explosion, but our view was obstructed completely as people began to scream and to run in all directions.

  Police, holding riot shields and armed with batons, forced themselves through the panicking crowds, trying to direct people away from the explosion site. They were yelling instructions, but no one was obeying.

  Andy tightened his grip on my hand as we pushed through the crowd. People had fallen to the ground and were being trampled. I went to bend down to help them up, but Andy pulled my arm hard. “Don’t! You’ll go down yourself,” he yelled.

  I watched as the people who were lying on the ground slowly stopped moving as countless numbers of feet crushed them.

  “That red warehouse!” He pointed to the other side of the square. “If we split up, meet there!”

  Another explosion sent a shockwave through the square, throwing both me and Andy back on the hard cement. Our hands slipped apart from each other, but I could still see him. He was pushing himself back to a standing position before he was crushed by another stampede of people. I pushed myself up off the ground, trying to regain balance.

  “Andy!” I screamed. I turned frantically trying to see him, but the sea of people swallowed him. “Andy!” I cried again, but it was useless. I could barely hear my own voice, much less someone a distance away.

  I pushed through people who were still dazed from the explosion. I saw something red in my peripheral vision. I stopped and turned toward it. Veronika and Boris! I stared at them, and they stared straight back. I turned and ran faster through the crowd, now not caring if I pushed other people to the ground. I glanced back to see if they were in pursuit. To my relief, they had disappeared. I closed my eyes for a second and breathed deeply. When I opened them again, Veronika stood directly in front of me with Boris by her side. I stopped running only inches before I collided with her. Her eyes were just as cold and as empty as they were when they ploughed through my mind.

  “Do you recognise me now, Alexandra?” She pursed her lips victoriously.

  “Yes. You’re Veronika.” I swallowed hard. I had played out countless scenarios of my reaction when I finally met her, but I was so stricken with fear that I lost each and every one of them.

  “What do you want?” I could feel tears forming behind my eyes as I struggled now with my predicament and prayed that Andy was somewhere—alive. A group of rioters smashed their way between me, Veronika and Boris. I made a dash for the opening. As soon as I did, the gap was once again closed with people. I still had no idea where Andy was, so I ran towards the red warehouse. I didn’t allow myself to think of the possibility of him being dead. I had almost made it across the square when I felt something burn my shoulder, and the person in front was sprayed with blood. I wasn’t sure what had happened until another burning sensation raced through my other shoulder. I looked down to see blood pouring from each of my shoulders.

  I turned to see Veronika standing with her arms folded; Boris held a gun, which he was still pointing at me. I had been shot! I stumbled backwards as they approached. Veronika reached out and swiftly pushed my chest, causing me to fall on the hard cement.

  “Hold her,” she instructed Boris.

  He walked behind me and pushed his big hands onto my shoulders sending paralysing pain through my body. He wrapped his hands under my arms and pulled me to a standing position.

  Veronika was holding a knife. It, too, had unfamiliar engravings along the long, slender blade. The handle had two curved pieces of metal that contoured her hand perfectly. She held the blade to the side of my face. The scar on my throat caught her attention. With the end of the knife, she traced the line of the shallow cut along my throat. I closed my eyes as I felt the edge of the blade touch my skin. Knives to me were like spiders to arachnophobes.

  “Where did cut come from?” she asked, her eyes focused firmly on my throat.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t want them to hurt Abde, but mostly I didn’t want them learning anything more. Veronika pulled a small, black leather bag from inside her jacket. She held it dangling from her forefinger.

  “A gift to you.” She angled her head as she spoke. “I want to make clear our relationship.” She pulled her red painted lips to a half smile and handed me the small bag.

  I slowly reached my arm out to take it, but pain surged through my shoulders. I bit the inside of my lip to stop from crying out.

  “Open it,” she smiled.

  I looked down at the small bag. She couldn’t possibly think a trinket could forgive what she had done. I opened the drawstring and slipped my hand inside; the contents were round and slippery. I pulled them from the bag. In my hand were two golden eyes—Abde’s eyes.

  Veronika took another step closer to me. “Now, you understand?” She lifted one eyebrow. “Do not stand between me and what I want. If you do, all you care for shall die.” She lifted the knife to the side of my face and stabbed the very tip into my cheek. I could feel my warm blood trickle down the side of my face.

  “Give to me The Book of Narveere,” she hissed.

  “I don’t have it!” I spat at her. I had no idea of the Book’s purpose, but one thing had become irrefutably clear; the Book must not come to be in her possession.

  She curled her lip and gave Boris a nod. He squeezed my shoulders, causing searing pain to run through my arms and down my body. I lurched forward as my knees gave way to the pain. Veronika laughed as she watched me grimacing. I tried to hold back from crying.

  “What purpose does Book serve to you? Give Book to me and you and your Andy can live long life with many children,” she cooed.

  “I don’t have the Book, you psycho bitch.” I snarled through gritted teeth. I refused to let them see me cry. “And even if I knew where it was, I’d never give it to you.” I don’t know where the words came from—they weren’t my words. I’d never antagonise someone like Veronika. Something changed inside me. Something ‘clicked.’ A fury began to burn somewhere deep inside me.

  She pointed the knife directly beneath my chin. “You are beautiful woman, Alexandra. Boris loves to play with beautiful women.”

  Boris pressed h
is face against my face, breathing heavily in my ear, his foul breath sliding past my cheek to my nose. My stomach knotted as I thought of The Aztec forcing himself on me.

  “Boris is very obedient. Give Book to me and I tell him to stop ...” She stopped as she suddenly gasped and lowered her knife. She took a step back and looked toward her stomach; a crossbow bolt had been buried deep into her back and protruded through her stomach.

  Andy!

  Veronika stumbled backwards a few steps, and for a moment I felt victorious thinking she had been defeated—until she looked up through her dark blue eyes and smiled with one side of her mouth. She wrapped both her hands around the head of the bolt, and in a swift manoeuvre, pulled the bolt from her body. She held the blood-covered bolt in one hand and studied it. It wasn’t a bolt that came with my bow; it was a broad head that Andy had ordered from the internet. Those bolts are designed for maximum damage. It should have killed her.

  “You are going to have to do better, my sweet.” She turned to face Andy. He had wrapped his shirt around the bow to avoid being burned and held the bow poised directly at her.

  She swung her knife around her fingers as she marched toward him. He let another bolt fly towards her, but her body came apart and flew as a hundred black crows and reassembled instantly; the bolt had completely passed through her and she remained unharmed. Andy lowered the bow, his mouth agape.

  The bolt that had passed through Veronika had stabbed through the Book that still sat neatly at my stomach. I gingerly looked up to Boris; his eyes were fixed on Veronika as he held a victorious smirk across his face. He hadn’t noticed the bolt that protruded from me. I slowly inched my fingers closer and closer to the bolt. I bit my tongue hard to stop from crying out in pain as I moved my arms. I wrapped my fingers around the end of the bolt and pulled it from the Book. I paused a moment to ensure Boris didn’t become suspicious. I looked up to Veronika and Andy. He still held the crossbow poised at her as she moved her way closer to him. I twisted the bolt in my hand and stabbed it through Boris’s thick neck. He instantly let go of me, and without thinking I grabbed the gun that hung from his belt, aimed it at Veronika and prayed I would hit her somewhere.

  “Andy, run!” I screamed as loudly as I could.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw himself from the bullet’s trajectory, and I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew through the air with immense velocity and hit her in the head with her blood covering a nearby wall. Neither of us waited to see if that had killed her. Andy and I both ran into the red warehouse, slamming the door behind us. I fell against the tall, rickety wooden doors. My shoulders drew heavily on my body, as my arms hung limp by my side.

  “What now?” I asked. We had eluded them once; they would not allow it twice.

  “I dunno,” Andy panted loudly.

  He was still without a shirt; he had wrapped it around his hands so he could touch my crossbow. I had seen how easily the bow burned his skin, and I wanted to take the bow from him, but I could barely support my own weight much less wield a crossbow.

  I lay heavily against the doors, looking around the empty warehouse for anything that could be used either as a hiding spot or a weapon; the warehouse was completely empty. I did have a clear advantage, though—I still held Boris’s gun in my blood-soaked hand.

  We both heard a tram ringing its bell as it rumbled along the tracks behind the warehouse. That was to be our escape.

  “Can you make it?” Andy asked breathlessly.

  I nodded. I needed to make it to the tram. If I didn’t, death would be only minutes away. I had no idea whether the bullet had claimed Veronika’s life, and after what we had just witnessed, I was doubtful. Regardless of Veronika’s life status, one thing was certain—Boris would not stop hunting us.

  Andy bent to his knees and pulled his shirt over the bow to disguise the weapon. The last thing we needed was to be arrested for carrying weapons on public transport, especially with all the rioters who were still storming the city.

  “Here, put this in your backpack.” I held out the gun to him. He put out his hand to take it from me but stopped and retracted his hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s got symbols on it. God only knows what those symbols will do to me.” He swung his back pack off, unzipped it and I tossed the gun in the bag.

  The tram rang its bell again to tell all passengers it was about to leave.

  “Come on! We can’t miss it!” I yelled. Although I was speaking to Andy, I was more yelling at myself. I had no option but to make it to the tram.

  The tram had begun to close its doors just as we reached it. Andy forced himself through the doors, levering them open again. He reached for my arm and pulled me inside as the tram rumbled to speed. The action caused excruciating pain.

  “Get down!” Andy pulled at my side, making me fall to the floor. “Stay here! They didn’t see us get on the tram,” he hissed.

  I tried to nod my head but I wasn’t sure if I achieved it or not.

  Other commuters, who were already on edge, made no attempt to hide their suspicion at the arrival of two people throwing themselves onto the tram, one with blood pouring from her shoulders and the other half naked. I sat with my back against one of the walls of the tram, barely able to hold my consciousness as blood continued to spill from my shoulders. Andy sat next to me and gently pulled my shirt from my shoulders to examine the extent of my wounds.

  “We’re not on our usual route, past the hospital, son,” the tram driver called from the front of the tram. “We’re on clear evacuation instructions. This is the final tram out of the city.”

  “Fine. Just go!” he yelled to the driver. He turned back to me and whispered, “Shit! You really do need a hospital.”

  “Young man, why don’t you just call an ambulance?” a small, elderly lady called from a few seats down. She was leaning forward on her seat, clutching her handbag tightly.

  Andy shook his head. “We can’t, the riots are out of control ...”

  “You’re one of the rioters?” a middle-aged man with a long white beard and a pot belly asked furiously.

  Andy shook his head again. “No. We’re not from Melbourne; we’re from Warrangatta and had no idea what we were walking into. The rioters—they’ve gone insane. We were just trying to get to a friend’s house and the only way through was through the city centre, where the riots are. We heard police on radios saying the rioters had gotten out of control; I don’t even know how this tram got through—the entire city has gone into lock down. So even if we did call an ambulance they’d never be able to get here; but, she does need a hospital.”

  I shook my head and whispered, “I can’t. Even if we somehow made it to one, they will find us there—you know that.”

  He bit his bottom lip as he looked at me. “There’s a lot of blood, Ally.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes. They were too heavy to keep open.

  “Alexandra!” He shook my body.

  I sprung my eyes open and looked around panicked. I thought we had been found.

  He sat back against the wall. “Don’t do that,” he breathed. “I thought you were dying.”

  I took his hand in mine, blood quickly running down my hand and soaking his. “Nah, it’s just a flesh wound,” I laughed. “Just like on all the movies. There’s always a doctor nearby where the main character gets hurt.”

  His eyes lit up. “That’s it. Is there a doctor here?” he yelled loudly as he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me to a nearby seat.

  “What are you doing? Are you mad?” I hissed at him. How could we begin to explain how I suffered these injuries?

  “My friend, she was caught in the crossfire back at the riots. Please, can someone help?”

  Such a simple alibi, but it hadn’t crossed my mind.

  A young Asian woman stood up. “I medical student," she said shyly.

  Andy moved to her. “My friend, she’s been shot in both shoulders. I can’t see how ba
d it is.” He pointed towards me.

  She pushed past Andy and moved to sit next to me.

  “Suravi.” She pointed to herself.

  “Hi, Suravi. I’m Alexandra.” I slowly patted my chest.

  “I look?” She hovered her hands over my shoulders, as she waited for me to accept her.

  I nodded as best as I could, every movement exhausting.

  She pulled back the sides of my shirt and inspected the wounds. I could feel her cool fingers as they gently pressed against my exposed flesh. I clenched my teeth together and squeezed my fingers in a tight fist to try to stop from screaming out. She held up her fingers in a circle and pushed another of her fingers through, indicating the bullets had gone straight through.

  Andy bounced on his feet as he deciphered her movements. “Um, bullets gone right through? Is that a good thing?”

  “Yes. Good,” she nodded.

  “Good.” He intertwined his fingers and ran his hands over his head.

  The Asian woman stood up and spoke loudly in her language, looked around the tram and spoke again. No one responded. She turned to Andy as she mimicked the action of sewing. Andy was quick to understand. “Stitches!” he said.

  He turned to the passengers. “Does anyone here have anything she could use to stitch my friend’s wounds?”

  All I could do was watch as he walked quickly up and down the tram, pleading with the passengers for any form of thread that could be used. The elderly woman, who had questioned our reasoning for not attending a hospital, opened her large bag and pulled out a small floral case.

  “Young man?” She called him over. “There might be something in here.”

  He snatched the case from her and frantically searched through it, a moment passing before he located a needle and roll of thread.

  “Thank you! Thank you!” he said to her and then moved back to where I lay.

  “This will work, won’t it?” he pleaded with the Suravi, as he handed her the open floral case.

  She frowned as she pulled a needle from the case, inspecting it carefully. She looked up at Andy and imitated the action of smoking.

  “What! You want a cigarette?”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed him backwards as she stood up. Clearly she had little patience for his inability to understand what she was trying to communicate.

  The man standing nearby pulled out a cigarette packet from his pocket. Suravi moved towards him, pointed to the packet and made a clicking sign with her fingers. The man quickly understood she wanted a lighter. She nodded and took the lighter he offered. She came back to sit next to me and then used the flame of the lighter to sterilize the needle. She clicked the lighter a few times until a flame erupted and then held the needle above it.

  “Sterilize! Of course.” Andy ran his hand over his face, furious at himself that he wasn’t able to decipher her meaning quickly.

  She pulled threads from the case and inspected each of them carefully. She mimed she had no way of sterilizing the thread.

  “Just stop her from bleeding to death. We’ll deal with infection later.”

  An enormous sound roared through the tram, making it shake on the tracks. Initially I thought it was a huge roaring clap of thunder, but as I looked out the window a layer of thick dust billowed into the street, obscuring any vision of the outside world.

  “Another explosion! It was only a couple of blocks from here!” one of the passengers yelled. He was a boy, no older than fifteen, sixteen at the most. He clutched a school bag tightly as he crouched by the window, peering out of it.

  “Holy shit! Everyone, make sure you’re seated. I can hardly see through this,” the driver yelled.

  Several people clasped their hands to their chests as they prayed quietly to themselves. For the first time, I wished I had a God to pray to.

  “Alex. Look at me,” Andy said.

  I think his voice was clear and stern, but it became muffled as it flowed into my ears.

  He grabbed either side of my head and tilted it towards him. “Alex can you hear me?”

  I reached my hand out and touched the side of his face. “Your eyes are brown. They’re beautiful,” I said as I ran my thumb along his cheek.

  “What? Ally, stay with me. Don’t start talking like that.” Although his voice was muffled, I could hear the panic in it.

  I looked at him as I tried to understand his fear. I wasn’t scared anymore. I felt warm and my extremities tingled. And somewhere deep within me, I knew it was only moments until I would see Michael again.

  “I’m going to see Sasha. Do you think she’s grown up?” I smiled as I stared vaguely into nothingness.

  “Alexandra! Look at me!” he demanded. “Look at me!” He shook my head as he spoke.

  I tried to speak to him, but I couldn’t. My head felt light and fuzzy. I could feel the darkness beginning to take me. Andy was screaming at me but his voice was silent.

  He grabbed each side of my face and yelled at me. “You listen to me! You got me into this shit. You are not going to leave me to clean up your mess!” I saw him turn to Suravi. “Just get it done! Don’t worry about being neat or careful. Just stop her from bleeding!” he demanded of her.

  Suravi’s face appeared above my own, and poised herself with the needle in hand. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anywhere else. I brought to mind me sitting on the top of Barri-Barri, staring out at the sky. I could feel her push my wound together, her fingers slipping across my skin from the blood. I forced myself to remember the gentle water of Warrimudga flowing over my naked body as I stood beneath the waterfalls. Andy’s hands pressed harder into me, stopping my body from moving, as Suravi pulled the needle through my skin. His hands pushed so hard on my chest I could hardly breathe. Before I could stop it, a cry of pain flew from my mouth, and my sight blurred in and out.

  Andy eventually pulled his hands from me, while she pulled my shirt back across my chest. I went to sit forward but was met with painful resistance. Not only did my wounds hurt, the stitches pulled aggressively at my skin. Andy quickly slipped his hands around my back and took my weight as I sat forward.

  Suravi tucked the needle into the side of the roll of thread and handed it to me. I bent my elbow just enough so I could take it from her. An overwhelming realisation flooded me; the injuries I wore at that moment were only the beginning of what was to come. I would need to use the thread again, or perhaps I wouldn’t, because the next injury I sustained might be my last. I laid my head back on the head rest.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly to Suravi. She nodded once without smiling, collected the small floral bag and walked back to her seat, handing the elderly lady back her bag as she passed.

  Andy sat beside me as the tram rumbled along the tracks. “How do you feel?”

  “Tired. I know I should be scared, but I’m too tired to feel anything.”

  “Any wonder with the amount of blood you lost.” He stopped short and whispered, “She—Veronika—turned into hundreds of crows when I shot her.”

  “You saw that too? I thought I must have been imagining it!”

  He stared at the back of the seat in front. “What the hell are we dealing with, Alex?”

  “I dunno.” Such a pathetic answer, but it was all I could muster.

  “Abde confirmed our theories, and back there with Veronika, there’s no way you can say there’s logical answer ... this shit is supernatural. We need to go back to Abde. She could tell us where to go from here. But, I’m not sure the best way to get there; it’s not safe.”

  “Abde’s dead ...Veronika,” I said. There was no easy way to tell Andy, and I had no energy to break it to him gently.

  He took a quick breath in at the shock. I expected him to speak, ask how or what happened, but he didn’t; he just continued to stare at the back of the seat with a blank expression. I didn’t know how upset he might be about Abde’s death. I didn’t know how the two of them came to meet, what their relationship was, or why she was so invested
in saving my life. He was going to have to explain that to me later.

  I couldn’t look at him anymore. Abde was dead because of me. How many more people might die because of me? I rolled my head on the head rest to look out the window. Melbourne was crumbling. Rioters had stormed most of the city leaving a path of devastation in their wake. Cars that had been left parked on the road side had been vandalised, and shops had their windows smashed with much of their merchandise stolen. I knew it wasn't just the rioters. They were just demonstrating against something they felt strongly about. It was other people who were using them as a ploy to pillage the city.

  “Hey, Andy. I think we should make this our stop,” I said quietly, not wanting to raise alarm with the other passengers.

  “No. We should get as far from the CBD as possible. We’ll circle back to my parent’s house, get my car and Spud. We’ll figure out where to go from there.”

  “Andy. Look around. There isn’t anyone out there.” I whispered so quietly I hardly moved my lips. “It means we shouldn’t be here. I bet there’s going to be a blockade up ahead, which means they’ll want us to go somewhere ‘safe.’ That means they’ll have to search us ...”

  “They’ll see the bow and the Book.” He finished my sentence for me. “Not something we can explain, exactly. They’ll confiscate them for sure.”

  “We need to get off the tram.”

  “Then what?” he asked, as he craned his neck to look through the windows to the collapsing city.

  I bit my lip as I considered our options. “You once told me that anyone can be found on the internet.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” He frowned.

  “The Persivals—Abde couldn’t help us with our next move, but I bet they will be able to.”

  “I’ve searched for them. I told you that.”

  “Yes, but you also said you have a friend in Melbourne, that same one you sent the pictures of the Book to. You said he had some super fantastic computer.”

  “The speed of a computer doesn’t alter the content on the internet, Alex.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I mean you two are hockers. Between you, surely you could come up with something.”

  He smiled a gentle smile at me. “Hackers, not hockers. And yeah, but I just think it’s a waste of time. I’ve looked.”

  “Give me a better suggestion then,” I sighed.

  He bit the end of this thumb as he thought of any other solution. Eventually he stood up and reached for the cord that ran the length of the tram to the driver’s cab. “We’re here,” he called out to the driver as he pulled on the cord to tell the driver to stop.

  “Are you bloody mad?” the driver called out.

  Andy didn’t say anything as he just pulled on the cord twice more. The passengers held mixed emotions on their faces—some appeared relieved at our departure. Suravi frowned with worry as we stepped towards the tram door.

  Once the tram was stationary, Andy helped me down the steps to the tram stop. The driver watched us for a moment, ensuring we didn’t change our mind. Once he was satisfied we weren’t getting back on the tram, he shook his head in disapproval and pressed the button to close the tram doors. We stood by the rails of the tram stop as we watched the tram disappear through the haze of dust. The street was deserted apart from the tram that rumbled down the tracks. On either side of the road were brick buildings, just visible through the dust. They were covered in graffiti and flyers advertising upcoming events around Melbourne. Some of the flyers had fallen off and were rolling down the desolate street.

  “Where the hell is everyone?” I asked, as I scanned the road, looking for any signs of movement.

  “No idea. Can you walk by yourself?” he asked, as he slowly released his hands from my waist. I could feel the stitches pulling against my skin, and my shoulders hurt so much. I didn't think I could tolerate any more pain.

  “I’m good,” I lied. My head was still fuzzy. I needed him to be as alert as possible, so having him worry about my welfare was not an option.

  “Henry, the ‘hocker’, is a fair way from here.” He looked at his watch and up to the streets. “We’ll get out of view while the dust is still covering us. Then we’ll discuss our game plan.” He looked up and down the street again, searching for any signs of movement. The street was silent and still. I had never visited Melbourne before but I knew this level of stillness didn’t bode well. There was an ominous feeling about the place.

  “Come on, across to that café.” He pointed across the street.

  It was the only shop along the desolated street that hadn’t been completely destroyed. It had a verandah with white wrought-iron lattice work. Under the verandah sat several sets of white wrought-iron tables and chairs. The image of the neat white café against the cataclysmic surroundings was ghostly.

  Just as I stepped from the tram stop onto the road, a deafening noise sounded from the direction the tram had just travelled.

  “Andy! Run!” I screamed at him, as I pushed him towards the footpath; however, we were too late to be completely clear of the explosion we had just heard. The tram was thrown into the air from the enormous force of the blast, and flames spewed from the ground. I braced myself as the shockwave rippled through the street, shattering windows and pouring glass onto the roadway as it passed. I lifted my arm over my face as the wave hit me, throwing me backwards, landing me onto the bonnet of an empty car.