The Player Game

Chapter 22

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E N J O Y

A dark hood is pulled across the leader’s face, hiding his features from view.  His voice is too husky to be genuine, which makes me think that he’s masking it secretly.  The only things I can see are his eyes, yet I don’t doubt that there are contacts making them darker than possible.  The misty orbs slide to me for a fraction of a second but enough for it to be noticeable.

I find myself frozen as Aaron shifts his position so that he is stood in front of me protectively.  His spare hand grips my wrist, making sure that I don’t move, as the rest of our group – apart from me – make a circle, so that there are no backs facing the intruders.

My heart pounds in my chest as I look around myself, peering through the gaps in the boys’ bodies.  There’s no quick escape.  There are eight of them and only six of us, and they have at least one knife.  Who knows what could be hidden in the others’ jackets?

“What do you want?” Aaron’s steely voice cuts through the tense silence.

I can see the hooded boys – some even big enough to classify as men – sizing us up, their eyes looking us over like a massive chunk of meat.

Why had we chosen tonight, of all nights, to walk home?  Our minds, obviously affected by the alcohol, had forgotten a very important detail about going out in the dark - the gang activities widespread across the town.  Now, suddenly sobered up, we’re found face-to-face with the consequence of our lack of memory.  There are several ways this could end, some more likely than others, and some not as nice as others.

The leader doesn’t move as he replies.  His legs are spread shoulder-width apart in an intimidating stance.  Once again, his eyes find a gap between Aaron and Brad, who is stood stiffly next to him, landing on me for longer this time.

“How about we make a deal?” he answers a question with a question.

I gulp, looking around restlessly at the emotionless expressions of the rest of the gang.  The fact that I can’t see any of their eyes beneath their hats and hoods unnerves me.

“Hand over the girl.” He nods sharply at me.  “And we’ll let you pass without any trouble."

I suck in a large breath, my eyes widening, as I flinch backwards.  My wrist is freed from Aaron’s hold as I do so, and instead, I find myself colliding with the back of the two boys I don’t know.

“Deal,” I almost think my ears are deceiving me as Brad’s panic-stricken voice fills the air.  “Take her, I don’t care,” he adds, turning around and making to grab for me.

His words are echoed by the two other anonymous guys, and I feel hands grab me roughly from behind.  I’m too shocked to react as Brad’s words click in my brain.  Take her?

It seems that Aaron, Harry and Jerry are just as shocked by Brad’s prompt and insensitive decision, looking dazed as the three of them start towards me.  Aaron is first to get over the initial surprise, and before I know what’s happening, his fist is flying through the air, colliding with Brad’s nose with a sickening crack.

Chaos ensues.

Brad hits the ground heavily, opening a gap in our now not so tightly knit circle, which allows me to spot the hooded gang which immediately starts to close in.  The two anonymous boys that accompany us panic at the threat to their well being, pushing me in front of them as a shield.