I turned to Khan. ‘Now?’
‘No. Wait!’
There were shouts of encouragement and sounds of laughter. With the back of his arm Parvez wiped the gob off his face and unexpectedly and viciously wrenched the ponytail of Velour‚ pulling her back towards him and snatched the topi back from her hand. She let out a high-pitched‚ earth-shattering scream.
And that’s when it all kicked off.
Parvez’s eyes widened and he ran‚ hat in hand‚ towards the stairs to the upper levels. The hostiles pelted after him‚ disappearing up the stairs to a chorus of Paki and Wog and the like. I gripped the metal bar and flung my door open. Khan did the same and we ran across the car park to the door leading to the stairs. I could hear my shoes in my ears pounding on the floor and I wished I had my Nikes on instead of my crappy mosque shoes.
After quickly checking the first two floors we flew through the door of the third. I came through first‚ with Khan just a fraction behind me. They all had their backs to us in a small semi-circle. Through a small gap I saw a flash of cheap beige cotton in the foetal position‚ as Velour and Shellsuit reigned brutal kicks into Parvez’s back and ribs and the guys cheered them on. Behind me‚ a guttural‚ feral sound‚ a fucking ROAR emanated from Khan‚ which stopped the proceedings sharpish. All heads turned. Their focus was now on Khan as they first walked and then ran towards him. But they stopped short as Khan‚ bent at the knees‚ pulled out his blade with a smile.
‘C’mon then!’ Khan growled. ‘Who wants to take a ride in an ambulance?’ He waved the blade around in small circles in front of him like a sparkler. I ran to Parvez and helped him to his feet.
‘Shit‚ Parvez‚ you alright?’ I asked‚ knowing what a stupid question it was.
‘Yes. I’m fine‚’ Parvez said. I took him limping and hobbling to the far wall. He looked down over it as if jumping three storeys down was our only way out.
‘Jay‚ look‚’ he said‚ pointing down towards the ground. ‘There’s more cars coming in.’
There was nothing I could do about that. Ten against three or thirty against three‚ what’s the difference? Either way we were getting fucked. Our best hope was to leave this place with most of our organs intact.
Khan was now surrounded in a tight circle‚ holding the hostiles at arm’s length‚ fiercely arcing and poking the blade towards anybody who tried to cover ground. There was a serene look on his face‚ a look of contentment. This was Khan and this was his element. If he died‚ I believed he would die doing what he loved most. One brave soul came at him from behind‚ pulled his arm tightly around Khan’s thick neck. Khan dealt with that with a forceful backward head-butt‚ breaking his nose. He then spun on his heel to face him and brought the butt of the blade down‚ striking him again on his already busted nose. Blood and mucus fountained out as the chump fell to his knees. But this gave the others a small window to step in closer‚ and they took it. I saw a beer bottle bounce brutally off Khan’s head and it threw him off balance. His legs wobbled but he turned towards his attacker and gave a back-handed slap that lifted the guy off his feet and onto his backside. But then a flurry of strikes rained down‚ and Khan fell to one knee‚ and I could see him desperately trying to muster up some strength‚ but he didn’t have the time or the space and‚ all too easily‚ the mob swallowed him up whole.
My mind whirled and span as fight or flight kicked in‚ and I blindly went in‚ knowing full well what would happen to me. I dragged one guy off and laid into him with the bar. The bar that I never intended to use. Striking him hard and quick on the side of the head‚ and then as he fell to the floor I continued to lay blows on his back until I heard the sickening sound of something shatter within him. I stopped. Before I could contemplate my next move a knuckle duster hit the side of my head‚ sending me sprawling‚ the bar slipped out of my hand and clattered somewhere around me. I was seeing stars. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and from a distance I could just about make out Khan getting the same treatment that Parvez had got from the two girls. But these weren’t girls‚ these were big guys‚ with big boots and big fists‚ stomping and pounding into his flesh. Grey Hoody was standing over me smirking. My eyes had not yet cleared after that knuckle duster blow‚ and all I could see were two yellow eyes and the devil’s smile. In his hand he held my metal bar‚ and just as he positioned himself to strike me the screech of tyres and the high beam of headlights deafened and blinded me further. Three cars haphazardly halted‚ doors flung open and feet hit the ground. All I saw were chequered ghutrah scarves bound tightly across faces. The cavalry had arrived.
The game had just evened itself out.
After Khan’s back-up arrived‚ the scene became a blur. I couldn’t tell you who was winning‚ who was losing‚ whose blood was lining the tarmac or whose tooth had just flown past my head. There were punches and kicks and bars and blows and knives and fucking Khan‚ who looked as happy as a child at Disneyland. Someone was laying face down on the ground. He wasn’t moving and it frightened the hell out of me. That feeling intensified when I realised it was the same guy I had viciously and repeatedly swiped with the bar. A short while ago I’d wanted to hurt him with everything I had. Now‚ worried that I could have fucking killed him‚ I just wanted to help.
I shook him by his shoulder gently and then again‚ a little firmer. Still no movement.
How much jail time am I looking at? Am I going to get raped in prison? Am I going to rape in prison? Mum is going to be so disappointed in me. I blinked away my thoughts as I saw movement. Relief washed over me as he stirred and lifted his head and took in the surroundings. I followed his train of thought as he concluded that he was better off staying put and playing dead.
Relieved‚ I left him to it. I jogged over to Parvez‚ who was slumped along the back wall. I helped him to his feet and he winced as if his body had just recalled the kicking that the two girls had inflicted. I made a mental note to take the piss out of him about that at some point. He put his arm around my shoulders as we gingerly moved across the car park and down three flights of stairs. I pushed open the door and looked at the empty parking bay where‚ once upon a time‚ my car had been parked.
My beautiful BMW. The beautiful black leather bucket seats that I had set just so. The crystal clear six-by-nine Blaupunkt speakers. The Pioneer stereo that I’d just had fitted‚ and all my burnt MP3 CDs‚ for which I had spent hours painstakingly selecting just the right songs.
Gone.
My trusty rucksack containing the remainder of Silas’ gear.
Gone.
Seven grand of Silas’ money.
Gone.
I was sat at the back on the top deck of an almost empty one-eleven bus on my way to see Silas. I spent the journey nursing a cut above my right ear with a used tissue‚ trying to piece together the blur of stupidity that had just taken place. I cleared the condensation on the window with my sleeve and looked outside. I was three more stops from Silas‚ my supplier and employer and all round fucking psychopath.
There is only one way to describe Silas. And that’s in detail.
At first glance you would not know how to pigeonhole Silas. He dressed
