Read Online Thrill Seekers by Edwina Shaw - Free Book Online

kicking like a mad man. Beck screams and runs out of the line of fire. Everyone else mucks in. Massive, pig-dog ugly bald guys come at us from all directions. It’s a free for all. Fun – except when that big guy lands a fist in my ear. The music is loud and frantic. I punch in time with the beat. Smack. Bang. Wallop. I feel like Batman doing Kapow hits till a bouncer throws a heavy elbow into my face and chucks me against the wall. Bloody Beck must’ve got the bouncers.
    Shit. My nose is bleeding. Better not be broken.
    Jacko slams one last punch into a skin’s head then yells, ‘Go! Everyone out of here. GO! Down to the boat!’ He runs for the balcony without even a look to see if anyone is following, and hurdles over the railing, disappearing with a metallic thud onto a van below. Brian grabs my shirt and hauls me off the fella I was wrestling, lugging me out the side door. Steve overtakes. I laugh, pumped full of adrenaline. But the skins are just as wired. And they’re after us. The fellashurl themselves over the railing, crashing and rolling onto the van’s roof. Just before I jump I look behind and see Beck calling out for Jacko. But he’s long gone.
    ‘Jump Beck! Come on!’ shouts Brian from below. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
    She tumbles down after me, falling off the van into the carpark and we bolt through the trees after the others. The thunder of heavy boots drops onto metal a few seconds after us. Way too close.
    ‘RUN!’ I roar at Beck’s back. ‘They’re coming!’
    Like stampeding elephants, the skins give chase, yelling threats and throwing beer cans. One whacks me on the back of the head but I don’t even look around. I keep running even though I’ve got a stitch. My legs are burning. I grip at my side and turn my head to see if I can slow down but there are at least twenty furious skinheads charging after me.
    ‘Fuck!’ I scream. ‘Faster! They’re gaining on us.’
    I clutch at Beck’s arm. She’s panting and starting to get the trembles so I call out to Brian, who half carries her the rest of the way to the pontoon. Jacko’s already in the boat pulling like a maniac on the starter cord. He barely even looks up as Beck collapses into the dinghy. The motor splutters then conks.
    ‘Jesus! Give me a go!’ yells Brian, as we leap in from the jetty. ‘They’re right behind us. Get in! Hurry!’
    Russ jumps in, almost tipping us, followed by Steve who trips on a nail and tumbles in on his back. The engine’s still conking.
    Zip, putter, putter, putt.
    ‘Shit! Shit!’ chants Brian as he tries again.
    The skins are on the pontoon. One of them is waving a broken bottle over his head.
    ‘Do it!’
    ‘FUCK!’
    Steve unties the rope and grabs an oar. I scramble for the other one and we start paddling as fast as we can away from the jetty. But not fast enough. A huge guy vaults into the boat onto me but I whack him with the oar. The motor roars into action and the boat swerves out into the river, toppling the skinhead into the water. He comes up swearing at the top of his lungs. Behind him, the pontoon sags with the weight of the rockers who are foaming at the mouth, they’re so angry. They promise certain death and throw cans, bottles, and rocks into the wash behind us as the dinghy zooms away.
    We laugh with relief, panting and slapping each other on the back. Sweaty, bloody, exhilarated.
    ‘That was too close for comfort,’ I say, watching as the skins rock a parked car onto its side and start flipping it towards the river. ‘They were some mean bastards.’
    ‘Are you kidding? That was fucken unreal!’ raves Jacko from where he’s regained control of the rudder. Beck is crammed in beside him, stuck to his hip. ‘Best fight we’ve had in ages.’
    ‘Yeah,’ the fellas answer, echoing Jacko like they always do.
    ‘Did you see the way I dropped that midget one upside down?’ Jacko asks and then we re-live every punch and kick, making ourselves the heroes of the story.