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   Chapter 33 No.33

Prodigal Sun By Christina Engela Characters: 5699

Updated: 2018-07-15 19:01


"This place is open to the public, right?" Said the first voice. "Well, we are the public – now gerrout of our way, faggot!"

"This is a private club, mate!" The bouncer said firmly, pointing at a sign above the door in small red capital letters that read 'RIGHT OF ADMISSION RESERVED'. "Now fuckle off, before things get ugly!"

The vibes coming from the group at the club entrance were setting off all sorts of alarms inside Marla. There was an intent there that stood out a mile for someone of her skill and talent. This wasn't some chance altercation, it was deliberate! Instinctively, she had grabbed Danielle by her wrist and stopped her dead, before backing up toward the bar.

The bouncer, big as he was, suddenly moaned and doubled over, clutching at one of his legs, giving Marla a glimpse of a burly male figure bringing what looked like a crowbar round for another swing. One of the others beside him kicked the bouncer in the face, sending him tumbling sideways onto the concrete floor. Three rough-looking skin-head youths in dirty jeans and muscle-tops swaggered in through the door, one of them making a show of stepping over the motionless bouncer. The one with the crowbar gave it a little twirl, and stopped to mock his shocked audience with an exaggerated bow.

Marla found herself surprisingly angry all of a sudden. Being something of a loner most of her life, it had been a long time since she felt the urge to defend anyone – even inside of her own community. It had also been a long time since she'd had to physically fight anyone! Right now though, she was suddenly on the edge of throwing caution to the wind!

The only thing holding her back as the urge to tear their thro

e Knuckleduster.

"Maybe we should find out!" He said threateningly. Crowbar moved forward and made to grab at Marla. Not to be outdone, his pal moved on Danielle. Her hands a sudden blur of motion, Marla blocked Crowbar's hands, and gave him a forward kick to the ribs that sent him staggering a few steps back. She followed this up by grabbing Knuckleduster's right wrist impossibly fast, and pulled his arm taught while wrenching his elbow with her other hand. The thug cried out in pain and scuttled backward, cradling his arm – right towards Fred, who joined in by braining Knuckleduster with a bottle of Iron Ale.

The bottle, which had been hardened by its extra special contents over time, didn't break, and rebounded off his head with a distinct 'clonk'. Knuckleduster's eyes turned upward and he went down with a muted thud.

Number Three made the mistake of charging Fred, and was quickly caught in some of his vines before being swung round in an arc that sent him flying out the door, screaming unintelligibly. Crowbar had recovered meanwhile, and realizing that things were not going as planned, considered the door.

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