Show No Mercy

by Bethany Walkers

  He screamed Sophie’s name again and again into the darkness in between his sobs. All of his life had been destroyed at that very moment.

  He’d lost his one true love. He’d be living his life in misery.

  He hadn’t even told Sophie his real name, and he knew that this regret would stay with him until the day he died.

  Part Six – Present

  In all our time together

  You’ve come to mean so much to me

  You are my best friend

  My life and all my dreams

  You give me hope when I’m all out

  You are my pick-me-up

  When I’m feeling down

  You make me feel good about myself

  There will never be anyone else

  For the rest of time

  To love me like you do

  And for me to love too

  The way I love you

  You mean the world to me

  You are my soul

  my spirit

  My everything

  Chapter Sixty

  Discussing to Adam what she thought

  Jazz felt incredibly sorry for Adam as she read the news report.

  She decided to pay him a visit. Adam was currently situated at the hospital.

  “Hi sir,” Jazz gulped. Adam gave her a glare. “I’m Jazz, your friend.”

  Jazz produced her photo.

  “The thing is, Adam, I feel sorry for you. I’m sorry about all the things that have happened in your life, I’m sorry for the way I treated you, I’m sorry about how I betrayed you, I’m just sorry about everything.”

  Adam said nothing.

  “This Josh Toft,” she continued icily, “he really is a soul taker, isn’t he? He murdered your girlfriend, remember? Sophie Steele? She was at her apartment and you came to visit her …”

  Suddenly Jazz began to fill him up on everything that she had found out. He began to remember the incidents that had occurred in his life. He rocked about in his bed, shouting and screaming and crying.

  Jazz still carried on, no matter how much he was being hurt.

  He’d remembered everything.

  There was no stopping him getting his revenge on Joshua Toft now.

  Chapter Sixty One

  The challenge

  The next day Adam was freed from hospital. He and Jazz went to town. Adam phoned Josh Toft.

  “You’re in for it,” he said coldly. “Me and you … a fight. May the best man win. This is war.”

  “Oh Adam Attenborough, I’m so scared!” Joshua said in a mocking tone.

  “Well, you’ll be scared no more. Because very soon you’ll be facing your death.”

  All Joshua could do was dial off and wait.

  Chapter Sixty Two

  All’s fair in love and war

  Jazz and Adam went to Josh Toft’s house.

  Guards were surrounded there, everywhere.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Jazz said. She dragged him back.

  “If Sophie Steele was killed, then I’m going to have to risk being killed too,” Adam said firmly. “All’s fair in love and war.”

  “Yeah right.”

  Adam ignored her. He went round the back garden.

  Chapter Sixty Three

  The fight begins

  Adam had a fight with each and every one of them. They were no match at fighting for Adam Attenborough.

  All he had to do was give them a punch and they were knocked unconscious.

  Adam laughed, as he made his way further up the garden. Then, one man really tried to go for him. His name was Tyler. Adam began to fight with him, even more rough than he’d fought with the others.

  The first punch glanced Tyler’s chin. He noticed too late that it was a feint, though, when the second punch doubled him over and expelled the last bit of choked air from his beer-weighted belly.

  It was a heck of a shot. Outside of having the wind knocked from him, which he always hated, Tyler noticed a fair amount of pain with the gutshot, which was something he wasn’t used to. A hit to the face, yes, or even the kidney...but the gut shouldn’t have been much more than discomfort, if that.

  Fortunately, he was used to it all. A veteran of bar fights in four states and countless cities, even being out of air was something Tyler knew how to deal with.

  He stood straight, eyes bulging with rage, and stared at his opponent—some bloodshot eyed man with a smart mouth—right in his shifty little eyes. The kid tried to stand tall, but he was about to pee his pants he was so scared. Tyler had him where he wanted him.

  “You…little…” Tyler took a lurching step forward with each word. On the third, he swung: “Punk!”

  The blow felt too sluggish. Tyler knew the second he launched it. Smirking, Adam Attenborough ducked under it. Before Tyler could even register the dodge, however, another body shot, this one to his ribs, sent fresh ripples of pain through his torso. He didn’t fall—he made absolutely sure he did not fall—but it was a lot closer than he’d have liked. In other places, where he was more well-known, his reputation would have already taken a beating whether he won the fight or not.

  Adam went in for another shot, but this time, Tyler shoved him off. Seeing Adam scoot back so far against the weight of it gave him a second wind. He covered the distance between them. Threw three more punches that did land. Adam fell.

  Then, Adam stood again.

  It was unreal. Between the pain in his guts and ribs and the general confusion (some would call it being punch drunk), the sight of Adam Attenborough on his feet after the patented Tyler left-right-left was not something he wanted to see. He threw a haymaker that the kid ducked but didn’t parry, then another that Adam Attenborough swung under again—and responded in turn with an uppercut.

  Click. The sound of Tyler’s upper and lower rows of teeth making unplanned contact sickened him. Still, he kept his feet. He had to. Falling down was not an option—but he’d been defeated, and there was no point in trying to fight back again. Adam Attenborough had won. Laughing, he walked further in the territory of Joshua Toft.

  "There’s another guy behind you, you know," Tyler warned Adam Attenborough, pointing.

  He saw them then. Silent as beetles, two men scuttled toward him.

  More followed, slipping from doorways and corners. Under cover of the rain and fog, a whole pack had stalked in, unseen, converging from three directions. They were Scottish and they were here in London, guarding Joshua Toft from enemies and vermin. They carried knives and clubs and chains. These were vermin from the dockside, deadly and cold as ice. They'd sent the boy Tyler, who was quite strong but could never win against someone like Adam Attenborough, as a distraction to hold him while the gang closed in. He’d just tried to keep him entertained.

  "Run from me." He let him loose. "Run fast."

  But he backed away, wide eyed, breathing hard. "Why? I was told to stay here." That was shock in his voice and fear. He turned in a circle, looking for a hole in the gate closing round them. And Adam Attenborough knew he was no part of this. No decoy.

  "More of them down that way. A baker's dozen." One of the men dropped out of the fog, into his usual place, taking the left. They were two against that many. Long odds.

  He picked a target--one in front, where his friends would see him die--and threw. The bravo collapsed with a sucking, bubbling neck wound. The familiar stink of death rose in the alley. He pulled his second knife.

  The thugs hesitated, sending glances back and forth, fingering blade and cudgel. Attack or retreat. It could go either way.

  Then one man broke ranks and lunged for Tyler.

  He was fast as a little cat. He'd give her that. Cat quick, writhing, He bit the filthy arm that held her and knocked a knife aside and wrenched loose. Tyler skipped back, clutching a long shallow cut on her forearm. "Not hurt. I'm not hurt."

  No tears, no screams. Pluck to the backbone. He was also damnably in his way. He shoved Tyler behind him, between him and the other men. Prot
ected as Tyler could be.

  If this lasts long, he'll get killed. "Mine on the right." He threw and his blade hit badly and glanced off a collar bone. One man down. One wounded. That would have been two dead if he'd had the sense to stay sober. "Waste of a knife. Damn."

  His last knife was in his boot. Not for throwing. This one was for killing up close.

  He forced his mind to the pattern the attackers wove, trying to spot the leader. Kill the leader and the others might scatter. Adrian danced a path through the bullyboys, breaking bones with that lead-weighted cane of his.

  No way to get Tyler to safety. He stayed in his shadow, using him as a shield, white-faced. He's been in street fights before.

  Then, Adak didn't think about her at all. Chain whistled past. He grabbed it and jerked the man off balance and drove his knife through a gap in the leather waistcoat, up under the breastbone, to the heart.

  For an instant he stood locked, face to face, with the man he'd just killed--a thickset red-head with pale skin and vicious, gleeful, mad blue eyes. Outrage and disbelief pulsed out at him . . . and drained away. The eyes went blank.

  Then the dead bastard thrashed, rolled with the knife, and took it down with him as he fell.

  No time to get it back. A crowbar cracked down on his shoulder with a bright, sour, copper pain. He fell, dodged a boot, and rolled away as Adam took down his attacker who was holding Tyler.

  Tyler screamed.

  Up. He had to get up. He was on his feet, shaking his head, trying to see through a black haze. Tyler was stretched between two men, being dragged away. He staggered through madness and confusion, fog and pain. They were all was swearing a blue streak.

  Under the chaos, he heard a monstrous racket of wheels on cobblestone. A goods wagon rounded the corner.

  Tyler tore loose, leaving his cloak behind. He reeled straight into the path of the horses and slipped on wet cobbles. He had a split second to look up and see hooves. His face was a mask of raw terror.

  He launched himself toward Tyler. Too late. He knew he'd be too late.

  The driver wrenched on the reins. Horses reared and squealed.

  Frantic, he jack-knifed away from the striking hooves. He was so close to scrambling to safety …

  He slipped on the rain-slick cobbles. The wagon skidded. Iron rims shrieked on the stone. The wheel hit the side of her head with a soft, horrible thud. He whipped around, and wavered upright for an instant, and slumped to the dirty stones of the street.

  All hell broke loose. Shouts back and forth. Limping, dragging their wounded with them, the gang retreated.

  He stepped over a body and ran to Tyler.

  He lay huddled on his side, as if sleeping, covered with blood and mud, his clothes torn halfway off him. His hand lay upcurled on the cobbles, open to the falling rain.

  Adam didn’t have time to feel sorry for Tyler. The purpose he came here wasn’t just to fight out with everyone who was guarding Joshua’s house. The purpose was to kill Joshua Toft.

  Chapter Sixty Four

  A guilty crush

  Before Adam knew it, he was being rushed. All he has was his bare hands to defend himself from an onslaught of bloodlusting enemy. Instantly, he assume his own stance and began to prepare himself for the violence he was about to inflict. Nobody would come out alive. Adam was surprised at how many people there really were, considering he’d already fought with many of them.

  The first attacker rushed towards him, while a second moved around him to attempt a strike from behind. Adam lept back and elbowed the rear attacker in the neck, crushing his windpipe and knocking him over. He coughed up blood. Immediately, Adam took his own momentum and directed it forward. In one easy move Adam sidestepped the first opponent and took his arm, twisting it around with enough leverage to snap the bone, causing him to drop in pain. A swift kick to his temple as he dropped let him set himself up for a change in position to take on the next three fighters.

  Unable to get around Adam, they rushed from the front. Adam dropped and scissor-kicked the one to the left-most of himself, delivering a fatal kick to the neck while he fell, causing a sickening crumpling sound. He rolled away, spinning up into a kick towards one of his opponents chests, dodged. He rushed towards Adam so Adam sidestepped and pounded his head into the brick wall. Adam turned around and grabbed the necks of the two enemies, gripping into their flesh until the vital juices began to spill from their necks. He dropped them.

  As soon as it began, it was over. The broken bodies were a testament to the fact that someone wanted Adam destroyed. Someone who didn't want to take chances. Someone in a position of power. The cold rain washed over him … and he walked further on to find Joshua Toft.

  Jazz was finding it very hard to keep up with Adam. She had finally caught up. All she could remember him doing was knocking the people who were inside and around the house, unconscious, and now, she was trying to dodge the lifeless people who were sprawled across the floor, literally everywhere. It made her grimace to see so many dead bodies.

  Now that she had caught up with him, she saw that Adam at this time was fighting with Joshua, throwing objects at him and screaming.

  Joshua broke into a run. Adam ran after him, down the endless corridors. Jazz again followed. She was tired and was sweating madly, and she was getting really self-conscious about how disgusting she must have been looking. However, she still wanted to see all of the action.

  Jazz herself had began to fall for Adam, now that she had seen the him before in his diaries. He was so handsome back then. Jazz had a crush on him. But she knew that she couldn’t get together with him, as that would just betray Sophie even though she couldn’t see them.

  So Jazz followed them as Adam chased after Josh.

  Chapter Sixty Five

  Taking Adam to advantage

  They had reached an alleyway, except from Jazz, who was still trying to keep up with them. She was into girly things, and according to being a decent female, being good at running was not an option.

  Adam had unfortunately lost his memory once more.

  Joshua used this to take advantage.

  “Someone is trying to kill me, sir,” said Joshua, blood and tears beading from both his eyes and body. “He’s a very bad man, sir.” Joshua pointed down the alleyway leading to outside.

  Adam looked down there because he wanted to help Josh, not knowing who he was. At the moment because he’d lost his memory Josh Toft was a complete stranger.

  Josh used this opportunity to start hitting Adam.

  But before he could … Jazz arrived!

  “SIR! ADAM! WATCH OUT!” Jazz screamed at the top of her lungs, as Josh was carrying a metal weapon.

  Adam spun round. He began punching and kicking Josh for all he was worth.

  Josh gave him a hard shove, so Adam toppled backwards. He went over to Jazz and knocked her over to the floor as well.

  It was just like the Sophie Steele-Adam Attenborough scene, when Josh had murdered Sophie, except Jazz was there to take Sophie’s place.

  Both had their arms reached out on the floor, just like that very scene.

  Chapter Sixty Six

  Justice is served

  Adam began to shout; he was so scared.

  “NO!” he screamed in desperation, feeling like it was Sophie Steele there instead of Jazz.

  Joshua Toft chuckled lightly to himself, and went to check if any one was looking before he was going to perform his merciless evil deed. He looked down the alleyway leading to outside.

  Adam used this opportunity to get up himself. He toppled to his feet. Joshua was that stupid because he had dropped the weapon. Adam picked it up and whacked it in Joshua’s head several times when he had his back turned.

  There was such a noise that the glass cupboard by his side knocked over on top of Josh.

  That was more than enough to happen: Joshua Toft, Adam Attenborough’s worst enemy who’d killed his girlfriend, the evil, merciless, soul-taker was dead.

&nbs
p; He was finally dead.

  Chapter Sixty Seven

  She was always in his heart

  It was the little girl’s birthday, Chloe, whom Sophie had saved that day from the hijackers.

  Adam Attenborough had now changed his life for the better. He still had the fifteen minute lasting short term memory loss, but found a better way to beat it, and was also starting to get treatment for it. He looked the same as what he looked like all those years back, when Sophie Steele were all his hopes and his dreams.