by M W Foolster
"What are you still doing in here? We're closed. You need to leave and like, now."
Flashes his warrant card,
"What's going on?"
A male approaches him, Juan on his name badge,
"A riot has broken out, some serious shit going down out there. They're setting cars alight, smashing everything in sight and looting the shops down near the library. Karina saw guys running around with scarves covering their faces, all tooled up, some even carrying Molotov cocktails. Look, we are not paid enough to hang around so we are like closing and getting the hell out of here."
The petrified blonde bartender produces a large bunch of keys.
"And where are the police? Apart from you, haven't seen any. I mean, shouldn't you be out there getting back control of the streets, or something?"
DS Fuller smiles sympathetically, reassures them that the riot police won't be long in arriving and exits the bar.
His eyes start to water almost immediately, the air full of the smell of burning rubber, and then spots the thick black smoke billowing into the blue sky close to the library. And what he then sees leaves him speechless. A huge group of what appear to be predominantly western European shopkeepers are charging down the high street, many wielding baseball bats, hammers and what look to be meat cleavers. They're then joined by whom he assumes to be local residents running from side streets, also looking to be armed with anything they could lay their hands on. The groups merge together and descend on the rioters. Their roar of defiance is deafening. He feels a lump appearing in his throat and a sense of pride as he witnesses the Borrington residents refusing to lay down and allow their businesses, their community, to be destroyed by the scarf clad rioters. Reaches for his mobile.
"Gov?... Yer, sorry, was trapped under the table for ages. Am out now but where the hell are you?"
The blue saloon screeching to a halt several feet away answers the question for him. Runs across and leaps inside.
"You ok, Gov?"
"Aye, but we have tae get the hell out o' here and pronto. It's feicking mayhem."
"No sodding way. Susie is in the middle of that lot. Besides, you seen those guys."
The DS grins as he watches yet more men appear, must be several hundred at the very least.
"Reckon those rioters are going to get their arses well and truly battered Gov."
DI Jordan stares out of the window, a troubled expression on his face. Grabs at his mobile and shoves it under the DS's nose. DS Fuller looks as though he's about to explode on reading the text message.
"No way, Gov. I didn't sign up for this. He can go fuck himself as far as I'm concerned."
"WE HAVE NAE CHOICE JOHN'"
DS Fuller pushes open the car door,
"Maybe you haven't, Gov, but this," he points towards the thick black smoke, "This just isn't right. And maybe I am a shit copper and yer ok, I don't have a problem with helping myself but that's always been dodgy gear, or dirty cash. But this is different. And you are wrong. That bastard doesn't own me, it’s only a job and I do have a choice."
DI Jordan sits shaking his head as he watches the DS jogging along behind the courageous Borrington residents, who are now charging towards the rioters, ready to battle for control of their own streets.
Mutters to himself, "Feick it."
Foot rammed down on the accelerator, he screeches to a stop alongside the DS, window down, he yells out to him,
"Right, John, let’s go kick some feicking arses o' our own, shall we?"
24 The Battle of Borrington
Jason attempts to hide behind a green recycling bin, his fingers drumming away on his mobile as he frantically texts Robbie. He’s still feeling dizzy from having skimmed across the top of the wall and flown head first into the refuse bins. How could he have forgotten that the wall separating the library from the church had been treated with anti-climbing paint? Swearing at himself under his breath, he sends the text.
'Urgent assistance required. In library yard. Bring spare trousers and my jacket from office. Please hurry'
Ten minutes have passed and still no Robbie. Now sat on some old newspapers to protect his bare backside from the concreted yard, he leans back against the brick wall. Keeps himself busy digging grit out of his badly scraped knee. The sound of heavy bolts being pulled across has him sighing with relief.
Robbie's ginger goatee appears through the door,
"Jay, you there?"
"Over here."
"What the hell?"
Robbie's glasses steam up at the sight he is met with. He has to remove them, tears now in his eyes. Keeps attempting to speak but just can't stop laughing.
"Yer, yer, ha bloody ha, Robbie."
A miffed Jay grabs the clothing from Robbie's arm and disappears back behind the recycling bin. Apron discarded, now dressed in black trousers and a blue suit jacket, he emerges to find Robbie still creased up with laughter. Attempting to compose himself, Robbie splutters,
"So, a, hmmm, nice lun..."
Can't finish his sentence, and breaks down in hysterics again.
"For fuck sake, Robbie, it isn't funny,"
"Sorry... Really am. What the hell did she do to you?"
"The woman is a complete psycho and I never, ever want to talk about it."
"But..."
"I mean it, Robbie. Never. And nobody is to know. Right?"
“Ok, Jay, I am sworn to secrecy. My lips are sealed.”
Still smirking, he adds,
“But you can’t go walking around the library looking like that. Where the hell are your clothes, anyway?”
“She… Look, I… Never mind. You got a spare shirt in work?”
“No sorry, never had the need. And you best get cleaned up, looks like you have been dragged through a hedge backwards. Got to go out at lunchtime anyway."
Checks his watch.
"Which is now. So, want me to get you a shirt?”
“Please. And look, sorry to ask, but maybe some boxer shorts too?”
That proves too much for Robbie and yet again, he explodes with laughter, leaving the very peeved Jason rolling his eyes as he struts towards the back door.
Having remained at a safe enough distance not to be spotted, Kevin is left feeling bitterly disappointed at seeing the black scarfed soldiers out fought, and then outwitted, by Gabriel. Whooping with delight, Kevin had watched keenly as the first of them emerged from the train station and immediately attacked Gabriel. But then Gabriel had retaliated, leaving several of the soldiers sprawled out across the pavement. The third had turned and fled. A distraught Kevin had shrieked at the cowardly soldier to go back, that he must not desert the front line, not that the soldier heard him. But then more appeared, lots more. Kevin had squealed in delight at watching Gabriel turn and run.
And Kevin is now skating along behind them. He watches Gabriel dart into an alleyway, and his anticipation rises as he realises that Gabriel is trapped. Overwhelmed with excitement, and barely able contain himself, he draws some startled glances from shoppers in the high street as he skates around in a tight circle whooping and howling with laughter. His joy soon turns to anguish on seeing Gabriel leap over the brick wall at the end of the alley, but all is not lost, the scarfed soldiers are still in pursuit. Confused and unsure as to what he should do, it's not as though he can follow them, Kevin remains at the end of the alleyway, waiting patiently, expecting to hear screaming, but nothing. Skates out into the high street and watches in fascination as a steady stream of the black scarfed army continue to stream out of the train station, and then they start arriving in cars and on bikes. Kevin wants to whoop as five white transit vans screech to a stop close by and yet more soldiers spill out. Wants to shout his approval as the scarfed soldiers congregate around the vans and listen to the tall one barking out orders; but he is the Man's spy, and he must stay quiet. He watches them passing around baseball bats and other weapons, and, overcome with elation, he spins around in circles as he stares skywards. This is the day he
has been waiting for. The day when all of the bad people who laugh at him, who tease him and bully him, will suffer. The Man had promised him revenge, and this is the Man's army come to fulfil that promise.
Ten minutes pass before the black scarfed soldiers who’d pursued Gabriel, return. Now lurking behind a large green refuse bin outside the kebab shop, Kevin is left feeling frustrated and cheated on hearing them cursing amongst themselves at having lost him. Wants to shout at them to go back, that the Man had sworn to him that Gabriel would be dealt with, but knows he can't, must stay quiet. A nod of satisfaction as he listens to them saying that they'll go looking for the bastard once they've carried out their demolition job on this shit hole. Smiles to himself because yes, they must, the Man had promised. Kevin is then distracted by a rustling from inside the wheelie bin. A dirty, filthy rat. Throws open the lid, a repugnant smell wafts into the air, but hardly a deterrent because he's accustomed to that stench. Rat piss. Pokes at the full black rubbish bags, grins as the food waste spills free. He remains still and concentrates, and then he hears the rustling, it’s coming from the bottom of the bin. Disgusting rat hiding from Kevin, but Kevin not stupid, Kevin is the rat hunter. Immediately goes to his pocket, pulls out an aerosol can and starts rummaging around for a lighter. And then come the tears, rolling down his cheeks as he shakes the empty can. What to do?
Having stripped, Jason stands staring at his naked body in front of the mirror in the staff toilet, and sighs heavily. He looks a mess. But at least he’d managed to reach the toilet without being seen, Robbie having checked that coast was clear before he’d snuck in. Scrubs wildly at his skin with a cheap bar of soap but can’t seem to rid himself of that damned smell. And why can’t he stop scratching? Soaks his hair under the cold water tap and shivers violently as he attempts to dry it under the hot air blower, but still his head is itching. Checks the jacket pocket for a comb, more silent cursing on realising that it’s still in his trousers, which are probably in the bin along with the rest of his clothing. Why would she do that to him? Makes no sense. No choice, runs his fingers through his damp hair, checks his appearance in the mirror, not good but will have to do. Sits down heavily on the white toilet seat and finds himself sliding towards the wall. Barely has time to stretch out his arms and hold on to the walls before it crashes to the floor. Thought the bloody maintenance man was supposed to have repaired it. What a sodding disaster, just prays that he wasn't seen and as for the muscular woman, please, please don't let her of blabbed it to anybody. The sudden loud banging on the door has him leaping out of his skin.
"Jay."
Gratefully accepts the shirt and underwear thrust towards him.
"Crikey Robbie, that was fast. What did you do? Run?"
And then he notices that Robbie is drenched in sweat, and breathing heavily.
"Yes… Is..."
Gasping for air, Robbie leans against the wall.
"Is all hell breaking loose out there, Jay. Demo... Hijacked by rioters. You need to get upstairs as in now."
"Demo? What demo?"
But Robbie doesn't wait for a reply, and is now running along the corridor towards the stairwell.
Still buttoning up the new white shirt, he dashes after Robbie. He reaches the bottom of the stairwell when the sound of smashing glass brings him to a sudden stop. Yells up the stairs, but no response, and slowly makes his way up. Pushes at the huge oak door that leads through into the heart of the main lending library, and his mouth drops open in shock at the sight he’s met with. Surrounded by dozens of fighting bodies, Ms Scrawl is standing on a wooden chair in the middle of the room shrieking hysterically at the top of her voice.
"All of you need to leave... Please, you must all leave the building... The library is closing now... You all need to leave... Will you all get out of the building!"
Jason recognises many local traders, as well as library customers, amongst the battling horde, and then he hears a familiar voice. Swearing loudly, Robbie has hold of a black scarf that's still wrapped around the neck of a swearing youth, who he's now swinging around in circles. The yob make a grab for Robbie's goatee and pulls at it, Robbie shrieks. That is until Tammy leaps towards them with a heavy book that catches the brute bang in the face. Watches as the thug sinks to the ground. Hears Robbie bellowing at her as he rubs at his chin, "Don't use the new books."
And then he's hugging her in gratitude.
Jason cringes on seeing books being thrown at the mob attempting to get in through the main entrance. And then he spots Jessica, Leroy and Lewis stood atop of a wooden shelving unit, high fiving each other with every lobbed book that hits its target. Runs towards Jazz, a gasp of amazement as he sees that she's barefoot, has ripped her skirt up to her thigh and is now performing what he can only describe as a martial arts master class. She drops low, a flash of her leg as she sweeps one snarling youth off his feet, smashing his head backwards with her elbow as he tries to stand. Up on her feet in an instant, leaps into the air majestically, spinning into a semi-circle before delivering a vicious kick to the head of the male about to smash a baseball bat into Robbie. Sends him flying. And then she is springing back up into the air and aiming a perfect heel kick to the forehead of yet another scarf clad thug.
The smell of burning wafts in from outside. Jason darts through the mob towards the main entrance, reaching for a dropped baseball bat on route before jabbing it straight into the face of the goon lunging at him. Jazz is suddenly at his side. A series of powerful punches, kicks and knee strikes, as well as his poorly aimed swings, soon has the yobs blocking the exit retreating fast. A blast of cold air catches his arm, Jason looks behind him. Tammy and Robbie are now armed with CO2 fire extinguishers. Hears shrieking coming from several of the shocked yobs as they’re suddenly doused in freezing gas before staggering from the building. Several others then scurry past them, looking bloodied and beaten, Robbie booting one of them up the backside to help him on his way.
"Mr Sinclair... Mr Sinclair, will you come here. Mr..."
Jason mumbles under his breath and is about to answer the screeching Ms Scrawl when a book suddenly crashes into her chest, knocking her from the chair. Watches as she land heavily on her backside, at least the broken PC chair had provided her with a soft landing. He immediately looks up and as he'd suspected, Lewis and Leroy are the guilty culprits. Not that they look even remotely concerned at having been found out, both of them bursting into hysterical laughter. They give him a thumbs up and he winks his acknowledgement. A final check on Ms Scrawl, sees that she's now rolled off of the PC chair and is laying sprawled out on the floor; but at least she's quiet. Robbie and Tammy then join him and Jazz at the entrance.
Robbie yells at the top of his voice,
“Scrawl is fine, stupid bloody woman. And that was the last of the shits in the library.”
All four staff exit the library, but are left stunned by what they witness. The street is literally crammed full of people fighting. Appears to be hundreds of them, many with those black scarves wrapped around their faces, battling against the Borrington shopkeepers, and residents.
Jason finds himself being pushed hard to one side. Jazz then drops to her knee and delivers a forceful punch into the groin of the knife yielding ruffian bearing down on them. Hears a bone breaking as she grabs hold of his arm, bringing it smacking down heavily on to her knee, the knife clattering to the ground. Jazz grabs hold of Jason and pulls him towards her. It's almost impossible to make herself heard above the noise and so she just grabs his head and directs his gaze to their left, towards the burning cars outside the train station. Shakes his head in disbelief at seeing the molotov cocktails in the hands of a small group of thugs foolish enough to attempt storming the budget supermarket. They’re met head on by the waiters from a nearby Turkish restaurant and following a bruising encounter, the few yobs left standing turn and flee. Jason grins as a perfectly executed side kick from Jazz makes contact with the nose of yet another thug baring down on them. Robbie and Tammy ch
eer on seeing the hammer fall from his hand as he crashes heavily to the ground. Jason then catches a brief glimpse of Susie and the other campaign members, all wearing their distinctive red 'Use it or lose it' t-shirts. Points her out to Jazz. They appear to be trapped, surrounded by the black scarfed hooligans and with no means of escape. But then he witnesses yet another jaw dropping episode.
The two detectives who'd grilled him earlier are clambering on top of a car close to the campaigners, the large one displaying a nimble fleet of foot that belies his size. The pair of them then charge across the top of the car before bravely leaping from it and hurtling themselves into the ruffians. The large detective lands heavily in amongst the thugs, sending several of them flying and then starts swinging powerful haymakers; Jason can't help but be impressed. And it's definitely having what he assumes to be the desired effect, a passage having now been created amongst the hooligans, allowing Susie and company to make a dash towards the library. The skinny detective sergeant looks to be taking a real battering, even if he is still hoping around on one foot kicking out at anything that moves. The detective inspector bravely fighting next to him, that’s until he’s swamped. And then he sees her. Gulps loudly. Muscles glistening, a ferocious look on her face, the same enormous and still lycra clad woman he'd bumped into earlier. Wielding an enormous metal girder in her powerful hands, Jason can't help but think that most people would struggle to lift it, let alone swing it. But swing it she does. Can almost hear the whoosh as it cuts a swathe through the mob. The two detectives then emerge from amongst the rabble and make good their own escape, also running towards the library.