So, I was told to head out to London Bridge that day. Apparantly there was some sort of spectacle the gang wanted me to see. I couldn't be accepted unless I understood and figured out why.
Yeah, I know. A gang. But hey, I've got no one left except my dead brother's mate. He's the one who got me into this. Foolproof, he said.
So, I found myself walking past the train station.
"We are experienceing technical difficulties. The train going to Hastings will be apporximately fifteen minutes late. We apologize for all inconvineinces."
That was the cue. Once they announced that, I had to walk a safe distance away. A safe distance, Kirk had told me. Really safe. So, how safe?
I kept walking, trying not to quicken my pace. For some reason, I wasn't scared. What's to be scared of? I don't know.
Just then, I felt myself being thrown forward. Foolproof, huh?
Kirk, you asshole!
I rolled myself into a ball, but hit the bridge with my back. Ouch.
I forced myself upright, cuts all over my arms. Great. this jacket was brand-new. Oh well, at least my reflexes had kicked in at the right time.
Just then, I noticed a woman jump out of a taxi a few blocks away. I heard her yelling.
Oh, man. Oh, man, oh, man.
I booked it in the opposite direction.
"Hey you! Don't move, MI5."
I ran faster, but there was kind of a fire in my way.