Hunted
1041 Words
Walking further and further no signs that the murderer came this way Lockheart is getting discouraged thinking to himself did I miss something or did the murderer head down a cut in the alley he had not seen.
Just then his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps from in front of him, he stops, now straining his eye's to see down the dark alley but there is no one there.
Lockheart's heart now pounding in his chest steps forward still he see's no one the foot steps have stopped now.
"Hello anyone there?" Lockheart calls out down the alleyway but no answer, he begins reaching into his coat franticly, finally his hand touches the cold steel of his pistol giving him some comfort, keeping his hand on the pistol in his coat he makes his way forward down the alley. He quickens his pace cursing to himself he should have brought a constable with him, he see's an opening in the left side of the alley and keeps his eye's fixed on it as he passes but there was nothing there. Slowing his pace down now he breaths a sigh of relief it must have been his mind playing tricks on him he releases his grip on the pistol in his coat. He goes to take a step forward but before he plants his foot down a group of hands reach out from a small cut in the wall to his right pulling him in. It happened far too fast for Lockheart to react he is now at the mercy of his unknown assailant's, Lockheart's lighter falling on to a pile of refuse the burning wick still lit. The hands now loosen their grip and Lockheart can move but before he can regain his footing he is slammed into the brick wall behind him his back making a forceful impact to the wall sending pain all through his body. Now dazed he looks at his attackers three men in there twenties have him surrounded, one man was thin with pale lips and tattered clothing,
to his side a more portly fellow his face a blush red the smell of alcohol was strong on his breath, and the final one standing in front of Lockheart was a brute of a man his heavy brow furled in anger the three men now bearing down on Lockheart.
"What's this then fancy spectacles skulking around our turf ehh I should give you a thrashing!" The large brute say's standing almost on top of Lockheart now.
"Let's smash him and get back to drinking." The portly man replies to the brute swaying back forth.
Lockheart now in fear for his safety tries to shimmy his way out while they converse but to no avail the thin man blocks his path and he brandishes a knife at Lockheart.
"You ain't going nowhere." he says through his discolored lips.
Lockheart feels his throat close as he tries to speak he thinks to himself maybe these men are responsible for the death of Ronald. No he tries to calm himself these men are just thugs they do not have the capacity to commit such a clean crime. Against his better judgment Lockheart tries to converse with these men maybe they can be reasoned with.
"Excuse me gentlemen, I am with the constables and am investigating a murder which took place close to here." He manages to say these words without chocking on his own terror.
"What you are with the bobby's!" The thin man taken a back by this statement. Lockheart's confidence now coming back to him.
"Yes and you blokes are interrupting an investigation, so remove yourself I need to get back." Both the thin man and portly man take a step back now unsure of what to do their confidence is shaken, the burly man is still standing firm with no sign of backing down.
Lockheart adjusts his cuff links emboldened by this turn of events he tries one more push to shake what little resolve they may have left.
"You must have seen all the constables gathered in the streets they will be sweeping these alleys any moment!" Sweat beads drip down Lockheart's neck he knows no one is coming this way, his hope is this bluff will let him pass without violence. The two ruffians look unsure now Lockheart seeing his opportunity he reaches into his coat reaching deep into it there he finds the familiar feel of steel against his hand he grips it tight and attempts to draw it from his coat. The burly leader see's this and grabs hold of Lockheart's arms as they struggle the other two men stand back watching the struggle, the force of the leader is great far to much for the thin Lockheart to overcome he knows it's only a matter of time till he is overpowered by this brute.
In a desperate moment he decides his only option is to fire his pistol and hope someone comes to the sound. Struggling with what might he can muster he pulls his arm deeper into the coat his finger can feel the steel and wood of his pistol, the trigger just out of reach he strains against the brute but is finger feels no closer.
He is panicking his adrenalin the only thing keeping him in this tug of war match but it isn't enough to match the strength of his opponent, he thinks quickly and see's the man's sleeve is rolled up his exposed forearm just in reach of his face that's Lockheart's key to salvation, Lockheart opens his mouth wide then in the next motion brings his teeth down into the flesh of the man, the taste is awful and his hygiene was quite poor. The brute now let's out a howl in anguish but recovers fast letting go of Lockheart he now has a free hand which he uses to strike Lockheart on top of his head the force of the blow rattles Lockheart's mind and a throbbing pain is left. Lockheart almost loses consciousness but regains his composure with the taste of blood in his mouth he makes his move his arm slips from the brutes grip for just a moment long enough to find the trigger, he pulls the trigger and the gun fires
BANG!
- Writer
