"SAYING GOODBYE TO THE BOTTLE”
The bastard was big. He was real big.
The door swung around on its hinges, sending shockwaves through the walls. A picture frame shattered as it hit the floor. The big bastard lumbered through the doorway, he didn’t look to be in any particular hurry. That bothered me. Worst of all, I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I guess I was having some kind of panic attack. I could feel my lungs aching, but they just refused to inhale. I wasn’t scared, not really. I’ve been living each day as my last for the last decade or so, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot of regret. Maybe that’s what was bothering me. I should have called Anne. I knew Grace, my ex-wife; I knew she would never talk to me, but Anne…I could have done more for Anne. I did feel bad for this Jen girl, too. I mean, she seemed to be in a tough place right and I hadn’t been able to do shit for her.
FUCK! Some gorilla just broke into my home and all I could do was tense up and feel sorry for myself. There was no way I wasn’t going to die.
The brute sauntered through the room. And he was a brute, too. Sloping brow, big chin, hands the size of Christmas hams. He noticed that I was struggling to breathe and gave me a dimwitted, black toothed smile. He didn’t care about me. He was here for the girl.
Jen was panicking. On one side of her, I was dying, and on the other side this creep was closing in on her. She didn’t even make a noise, she didn’t scream, cry for help, nothing, she was helpless as I was. We deserved each other, I guess.
The big bastard knocked the whole table over, and it took me with it. I laid there on my back gasping for air. The big guy grunted something. I finally heard a scream. Anne was screaming. I could see through the chair legs that the big guy was wrestling hold of her. She wasn’t making it easy for him, I’ll give her that. She desperately tried to squirm out of his grasp, but his hands were like vices on her arms.
That’s what was happening, but that’s not what I saw. All I could see was my own hand, wrapped in it’s own vice like grip around the bottle of scotch. Air finally surged into my lungs like scotch into a glass, which was soon to follow. I staggered to my feet. I could see the big fucking mongoloid looming over Anne. Fuck him.
The bottle came down hard on the back of his head, but not as hard as I wanted it to. Glass shattered and big piece stuck out of his head, giving his hair a bloody part.
Anne dropped to the floor.
“FUCK!” He yelled.
He clumsily backhanded his fist in my direction. I didn’t dodge, but he still missed. Thank god. I wasn’t so lucky the second time. He spun around to face me, blood splattering the walls as he did. He landed a solid punch in my gut and I found myself once again gasping for air. I doubled over and clutched my stomach, which helped me avoid another clumsy fist. This dick was angry and swinging wildly, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have the strength for a fight and just let myself fall over. It was a sorry sight. But before I could give up entirely and just let myself die, I saw her.
The red fabric clung to her body like a wet bathing suit. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back, her bangs hidden by her mask. She had something in her hand. With frightening precision she brought her heel down on the back of the thug’s calf. He cried out in pain and dropped to one knee. He tried to get up and turn around and nearly lost his balance. But before he could react, she held her occupied hand out about a foot from his face and sprayed something into his eyes.
He roared like a beast and blindly charged straight ahead. She deftly sidestepped his lumbering attack and guided him headfirst into the brick wall.
“Anne…” I muttered as she tried to help me up.
“No, it’s Night Cat,” she said, “My name’s Night Cat.”
“My eye’s hurt, what did you spray him with?” I choked out.
“Pepper spray,” she said nonchalantly. Looking at the unmoving body across the room, she stiffened up, “We should call the police, and maybe an ambulance.”
“No,” I spat, “Police…the police…the ones who sent him.”
“What, how do you know?”
“Just…a hunch,” I mumbled. It was really hurting to talk, “We have to go.”
“Well, we have to call 911! We can’t just leave him here!”
“Fine.”
I didn’t have the strength to fight a 300 pound goomba and I certainly didn’t have the strength to fight her. I tried to gather up anything I thought I might need while she dialed the police. This was real fucking bad. I ripped the phone out of her hands and hung it up.
“Are you crazy?” She screamed.
I threw the old clothes at her, “Put those back on. We’re leaving. We need to get somewhere safe until I can get my head clear. And take off that fucking mask!”
That last bit just slipped out, but she took the mask off and got dressed.
“Where are we going?” she asked timidly.
“Gurly’s.”
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