| Alarmingly Strange Stories |
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Tracy Tenchins |
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| . The BMX came to a halt some thirty metres way from the chip shop. Laughter filled the air from the congregation stood outside. Gibsy reckoned their figures were more like fifty than twenty. He pulled the crossbow around and fitted a u nail snugly between the industrial rubber bands, pulling back until the bands were near snapping. Calmly, he scouted the shadowed figures, purposefully waiting for the right target to appear. His aim fell on one of the larger figures standing near the shop entrance. The illumination from the shop lights lit the figure for an easy shot. A head bobbled in front of Gibsy's intended target, the large close cropped head of Tracy Tenchins. A smile creased Gibsy's face as he aimed for her fat jowl face, shining like a beacon, and released the u nail.. Their first reaction was stunned silence as Tracy fell to the floor screaming. Within seconds all hell broke loose. One of them spotted Gibsy and let out a shout. Then the air all around Gibsy came alive with swarming u nails. A bottle smashed in front of his BMX, then the braying mob attacked. He turned his bike around and headed off in the direction of the Bales. Things just got interesting - thought Gibsy. I burst out laughing at the first sight of Gibsy hurtling around the corner almost coming off his bike, but the buoyant mood quickly disappeared when I noticed what was right behind him. They looked like a mass of demons eating up the road and baying for Gibsy's blood. Closer and closer. I turned and ran, then stopped and waited for Gibsy, then turned to run again but my feet were stuck. I was caught in two minds. Wait or run. To hell with it - I thought - I have to wait on him. Gibsy started screaming at me, "Run! Run!" It was music to my ears. I streaked like a comet towards my waiting gang. "They're comin', they're comin'" I bawled, taking up my position. My eyes darted in the falling blackness, scanning crazily for any sight of Gibsy. Fear was virtually taking over me. Jason, Sparrow's eldest brother, was standing next to me and gave me a thumbs up. Holy shit, Holy shit - I kept repeating. Tracy's gang had reached the peripheral area of our factory. They began scaling the old wired fence and into the compounds of the loading bay area. Clayton's voice roared," Now!" The darkening sky streaked red. Whoosh went the little apocalyptic fireballs. It was an amazing sight to watch and so simple to achieve. Golf balls dipped in paraffin, positioned inside tea strainers, set alight and catapulted towards the enemy. This was Gibsy's baby, as I said before there was a lot going on in that dark mind. A flaming golf ball struck an approaching invader in the chest, knocking him on his back, his hands flapped as the pocket sized Vesuvius burned on top of him. This eemed to stall Tracy's gang. It looked as though the battle would be over before it began. Sweet thinking. Our flaming ammo dried up. This time they attacked swiftly. I looked down at the pile of stones at my feet. Picking up one, I tossed it in my hand, sizing up its weight, lifting my head, I zeroed in on my intended target and threw with all my might. He fell, screaming. I began throwing another, then another, ignoring the burning pain in my right arm. Sparrow's brother, Jason, crumpled to the ground next to me, blood pouring out from his hand as he held it to his head. I pulled his hand away then reeled backwards as I saw the u nail sticking from his cheek.. |
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