Read Online The Final Minute by Simon Kernick - Free Book Online Page A

where I was and where I wanted to go. He sounded like he’d just woken up but said he was just down the road and would be at the pub in a few minutes.
    As I put down the phone, I heard the door to the main bar open and the three young guys who’d been staring at me emerged. The one in the front was the biggest. He was wearing a tight T-shirt and hooded top and looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym.
    ‘What are you doing in here?’ he demanded, jutting out his chin as he came towards me.
    ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I’m just leaving.’
    ‘You insulted our mate in there. Who do you think you are, eh? Strolling in here like you own the place.’
    As he drew closer, his friends crowding in behind him like school kids egging him on, I stepped back and noticed that I’d automatically raised my arms so my hands were resting on my chest, palms inward. It wasn’t an aggressive gesture, but it was clearly a defensive one.
    ‘Look, I don’t want any trouble,’ I told him, and started to back away.
    ‘Well fuck off then,’ he said, coming towards me.
    I didn’t like turning my back on them but figured it would be best just to leave as quickly as possible. When I walked out the door into the cool night air, though, I heard them coming out behind me.
    ‘See, you’re a fucking coward as well, running away like that,’ continued the big guy.
    As the adrenalin coursed through me, my mind computed the various possibilities. Out in the open, they’d be able to come at me simultaneously from three sides. Even if I was in top condition, I wouldn’t stand much of a chance; tired, out of shape, and having already had more than my fair share of injuries today, I’d be annihilated.
    So I swung round fast, while he was still in the doorway with his mates behind him, and punched him twice in the face with two lightning-fast jabs that surprised me as much as him. He fell back against the guy behind him, but I didn’t stop. Instead, an intense, all-consuming rage seemed to sweep across me, and before he could recover I’d driven him back inside the building and was all over him, landing a rapid succession of blows.
    He went down, and his mates both jumped out of the way as he crashed to the floor. I could see he was already beaten. His eyes were vacant and blood was pouring from his mangled nose, but the rage didn’t leave me. I was loving this sudden feeling of power. I wanted to hurt this bastard. To make him pay. So I took a step back and kicked him hard in the face, my shoe connecting perfectly with the underside of his chin, shunting him along the floor.
    Now he was no longer moving and, just as quickly as it had arrived, the rage left me, and I stood there panting with exertion. The whole attack – because that was what it pretty much had been, an attack – had lasted no more than ten seconds and been carried out in complete silence as I’d channelled my anger as effectively as possible, like I knew exactly what I was doing.
    I turned my gaze on the other two, neither of whom had made any move to intervene, and who both suddenly looked very pale. ‘Either of you two want any trouble?’ I asked.
    They both shook their heads.
    ‘Good. Then get your friend some help, and be careful who you pick your fights with next time.’
    This time they both nodded.
    ‘Who the fuck are you?’ asked one of them in tones that came dangerously close to awe.
    ‘I have no idea,’ I told him, and left them to it, thinking that I might have made a mistake by drawing attention to myself like that. It was becoming clear to me I had a pretty vicious temper when provoked, and it was something I was going to have to learn to control, and fast.
    Thankfully, when I walked outside this time, the taxi had pulled up. I clambered in the back, gave him a friendly smile, and told him my destination.
    As he pulled away, I looked back over my shoulder and saw a group of irate and shocked-looking locals pour out of the pub door into the car park.