I charge around the corner, stopping to hide behind Aidan’s truck and see him and the stranger are in what could be euphemised as a ‘heated argument’. Aidan is lying on the top of a trendy red car, whose front window has been smashed through and has littered glass shards across the tarmac.
He sits up tenderly, holding his left arm close to his chest and using his other arm to cradle it while he makes his way off the car. When some wealthy guy walks off the beach his day is going to be slightly dampened when he sees his vehicle...or at least what remains of it.
Aidan reaches the ground once again, and has resumed some defensive stance just in time to avoid being slammed into the car again when hoodie guy takes another shot at tackling him.
Aidan sidesteps and flips through the air like a circus acrobat without ropes and lands behind the man, making a knife appear out of nowhere. So I was in a car with someone who carries hidden knives...great confidence booster.
The other guy turns around and pulls out a weapon of his own, flipping the safety off on his 9mm revolver as casually as someone would flip on a light switch. Aidan however gives him little chance to fire it as he bends forward and swings his foot up in a roundhouse kick, knocking the gun out of his hands. He gives our mystery guy little chance to recover as he comes up from the kick with his knives already slashing and arching towards the other mans abdomen.
The guy swiftly avoids it, leaping away like this is some extravagant dance, using his back foot as leverage to duck under Aidan’s wicked knife skills before slamming his fists into Aidan’s injured left shoulder.
Aidan’s face is a mask of pain and the man uses this to his advantage as he uses his other arm to punch Aidan upward in the jaw and then spinning to kick him squarely in the chest. Aidan goes flying, crashing into the front of his truck. A small scream escapes me before I'm able to cover my mouth with my hand, but it is carried away on the wind as the guy goes to retrieve his gun.
Aidan has still barely come around from his wipeout when the stranger walks up to him, the barrel of his gun staring down on Aidan's forehead at point blank range.
Now is my time to decide whether I do something: A-safe by running away to find help, although by then I know Aidan will be dead and his attacker would have fled, or: B- incredibly stupid. Me being me, I go with option B.
I scramble onto the roof of the car, catching our shooter by surprise when I come jumping off of Aidan's truck like a panther leaping from the tree as a ferocious growl rips from my voice-box. I land unceremoniously, crashing into the guy and we both go tumbling down to the ground and he loses his gun in the process.
Of course I haven't planned my intervention any further than this, so I'm completely unprepared when the man simply rolls me over so that I’m now trapped underneath him.
I hear a snap as I hit the road and this time my scream is completely audible at the pain in my right ankle. Black dots flash in my eyes, making me unable to see when the guy pins me underneath him with my arms at my sides. I thrash, trying to get free but he feels as heavy as a ton of bricks. He covers my face with his hand, pushing my head back against the stony ground and then I see the glint of a dagger in the sunlight being removed from his belt. How lucky I feel, having something sharp and shiny pulled on me for the second time in less than two days.
He shoves my head further into the tar, exposing my neck. I struggle like a bucking bronco but this has no effect, I even try biting him but he just curses and slams his leg into my ankle. I cry out and get the picture that I need to make killing me easier or else my final moments will be spent in as much torment as possible.
The dots in my eyesight are circling even more frantically now, my body is consumed with the pain and the cut from last night has reopened again. What both my attacker and I had not accounted for, was that through my distraction Aidan has received enough time to recover from his daze and slams into the guy, pushing him off of me.
The stranger does a bit of a backwards roll, but jumps to his feet in a matter of seconds. The dagger in his hand lookd rather insufficient in comparison to Aidan’s sword he holds while standing in front of me.
“If you know what's good for you, you'll take this chance I've given you to drop your weapon and leave while you still have your head attached to your shoulders. You should know better than to bring a butter knife to a sword fight.” Aidan’s voice stretches across the parking lot, controlled but containing enough of a treacherous violence to it to make goose bumps rise on my arms.