And so we meet Again

"Go fuck yourself."

"Maybe you should let me finish before you start shouting obscenities. If the others had their way, we'd be burning you out of there right now. What I'm offering you is the opportunity to pack up and leave without incident."

"Oh well, in that case, shove it up your arse with a piece of glass."

Graham crumpled his coffee cup in his massive hand. Everything about him was massive—he was a good 6'5", more than half a foot bigger than me, and about 7 stone heavier, not in fat, but in muscle. He was like a really ugly rugby player.

"You understand this is going to happen. You can't stop us. The only thing to be decided is if we force you out or you leave with all your limbs still intact."

"And where are we meant to go?"

He sniffed. "Hastings has a nice setup, apparently."

"Well, why don't you fuck off over there, see how nice it is, and maybe we can do a house swap?"

Saying this might have been a mistake, as he leaned in towards me. "Leave or die."

Malice dripped from the words. I leaned in, my face inches from his. "Try and take it, you ugly prick."

"Last chance," he snarled.

I heard a click, and he brought up a switchblade from underneath the table, putting it between my face and his. I picked up my coffee and, without moving my head away, took a swig.

Suddenly, he pulled me toward him, his face pressed against mine. "Pick!"

"Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice."

He loosened his grip a little, and I spat a mouthful of coffee into his face. He released me and pawed at his eyes. I flipped the table onto him, grabbed my satchel, and ran for the stairs.

I had not gotten 20 feet away when I heard footsteps following me. I turned and saw him chasing after me, still clutching his blade. I took the stairs two at a time and made it to the bottom just as Graham jumped the last 7 steps and clobbered me with a forearm to the back of the head. We both went sprawling. I rolled and sprang to my feet. Graham was already up, blocking my exit. I could try the other way, but I had no idea if it would be open. If it wasn't, I'd be trapped in a dead end. I turned and ran back up the stairs. I could hear Graham laughing as he pursued me.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I extended the baton and took a wild swing at his head, missing. We got to the top of the stairs and sized each other up. He stepped in and slashed. I swirled my satchel in front of it and heard the blade rip through the fabric. He moved in again. I couldn't move fast enough, and the blade came across my left forearm, causing me to drop the baton. It rolled out of reach toward Graham, who kicked it away.

The only other weapon I had was in the satchel, and now that was behind him. I took off running toward the cafe where this had started. Graham pursued me. Behind the counter, I grabbed a cupful of boiling water and threw it straight in his face. He raised his arms and cried out in pain. I kicked him in the stomach, and he dropped the knife. I punched him twice in the face, only for him to pick me up and hurl me over the counter. I slammed into the store display of the Apple shop as he advanced on me again. I was not going to take him in a straight fight, and as if to prove this point, he hurled me through the storefront window. Glass shattered as I hit an iPad display table and bounced off. Graham was laughing. He picked me up and threw me back out of the store, thankfully not through another window. I slid across the floor and hit the escalator barricade, staggering back to my feet, only to be knocked back down with a punch to the temple. My vision temporarily faded.

When it returned, Graham was standing over me, knife in hand. "Any last words?"

I spluttered something.

"What was that? I didn't catch that," he said, moving closer and cupping his ear sarcastically.

"Fuck you!"

I clicked my heel into the floor and, with all my strength, drove the spike into his shin. He howled in pain. I stumbled back to my feet and rushed him. He had no time to react and tumbled over the escalator barricade. Somehow, he grabbed onto it. I collapsed but crawled over to where he was holding on to a thin piece of overlapping floor. I grabbed my baton on the way. I looked him in the eye. There was fear in it.

"Help me."

It sounded pathetic coming from a man that size, who had been trying to kill me. I hauled myself up and reached down a hand to help him. He took it, and somehow, I managed to haul him up so he could jump back over. But before he did, he said, "Thank you, oh God, thank you for being so stupid."

Another knife appeared in his hand. I felt it go into my side. He smiled.

Then it faded. He looked down at his chest and saw the point of the baton buried in his chest. I pressed the button. Even though the noise was almost silent, it echoed in my head as the projectile hit its mark. He tumbled back over the balcony. I didn't see him fall.

I dropped to my knees and looked down. Blood was spreading out over my green t-shirt. He had caught me on the far left. I felt light-headed and slumped to the floor.