the club stared curiously at the closed door to the snooker room, and it didn’t take much imagination to know what was taking place on the other side of it. They could hear every hammering punch being delivered, every rib being cracked, the bloodcurdling shrieks, the ‘No no no, please stop!’ belting out. They knew the major to be a bit of a tough nut so no doubt he would eventually get the better of those three goons.
After about ten minutes the commotion died down. Vladimir opened the door and calmly appeared, like a headmaster walking out of a classroom after punishing an unruly pupil. The musclemen Jake and Clint were following on behind him and there did not appear to be a scratch on either of them. The same could not be said of Gridley as the club members discovered when they crowded around him on the floor.
‘Oh God! Someone call an ambulance!’ one of them called out.
Most of them knew the sort of person Gridley was and as they looked at him in a splattering of blood and broken teeth, some of them wondered whether he had in fact just ‘reaped what he’d sowed’, as was the common day vernacular. They would be right for thinking that. Halo of Fires was what came to him, for reprehensible actions he’d committed in his life. The consequence of years of sexually abusing his daughter had just caught up with him. And on this night he’d finally got what he’d deserved.
Chapter 2.3
After the trip to the Legionnaires Club, the three vigilantes had a few other minor revenge assignments to see to. A journalist for the Harbour Gazette needed his car spray-painted a vivid pink after insulting someone in one of his articles. A footballer needed to have Jake’s fist planted in his face after cheating on his girlfriend with her sister. They then swooped on the town centre to see old Bloated Bluey, the town drunk, who was always found by the river wearing his navy raincoat, a bottle of whisky in hand. It was nothing severe. He’d been harassing some people again in the street the other day so Vladimir wanted a quiet little word.
By two o’clock in the morning they’d done everything they needed to. As they wandered back through the town, Vladimir was not surprised to hear Jake suggest that they all visit a nightclub called Ice Breakers so that they could unwind. Whilst it wasn’t an atmosphere that Vladimir naturally fitted in with, he agreed to go there all the same. Jake and Clint would no doubt sit in a corner drinking themselves into a hazy state while Vladimir would retain his senses and people-watch. It was one of his favourite pastimes, and it was necessary to keep his finger on humanity’s thinning pulse.
‘Vladimir? Can I get you anything?’ Jake asked him as he stood at the bar in the nightclub.
‘Just a Coke,’ Vladimir shouted back above the thumping music.
‘Of course.’
‘Always got to keep your focus…’
‘Whatever. You should let your hair down every now and again,’ Jake shouted back to him.
Vladimir ignored him. They were two completely different people and whilst Vladimir could easily comprehend that fact, he did not expect Jake to. Besides, he wasn’t about to get into a deep and meaningful conversation about it right now.
The young vigilante understood a lot about people in this town. He knew what made them tick, what they liked to do, and why they liked to do it. He could fathom why, at this very moment, Jake felt like losing himself in drink, that there were deep feelings inside that he wanted to numb, and that alcohol was the only resource he knew of to do that. But just because Vladimir understood people, it didn’t mean that he was like other people. He knew that he was of a completely different sort to everyone. No one had the same perceptions that Vladimir had. Of that, he was certain.
Looking around himself at the other nightclubbers dancing and drinking in the dazzling disco lights, he could perceive more than what they could. He could see within that
After about ten minutes the commotion died down. Vladimir opened the door and calmly appeared, like a headmaster walking out of a classroom after punishing an unruly pupil. The musclemen Jake and Clint were following on behind him and there did not appear to be a scratch on either of them. The same could not be said of Gridley as the club members discovered when they crowded around him on the floor.
‘Oh God! Someone call an ambulance!’ one of them called out.
Most of them knew the sort of person Gridley was and as they looked at him in a splattering of blood and broken teeth, some of them wondered whether he had in fact just ‘reaped what he’d sowed’, as was the common day vernacular. They would be right for thinking that. Halo of Fires was what came to him, for reprehensible actions he’d committed in his life. The consequence of years of sexually abusing his daughter had just caught up with him. And on this night he’d finally got what he’d deserved.
Chapter 2.3
After the trip to the Legionnaires Club, the three vigilantes had a few other minor revenge assignments to see to. A journalist for the Harbour Gazette needed his car spray-painted a vivid pink after insulting someone in one of his articles. A footballer needed to have Jake’s fist planted in his face after cheating on his girlfriend with her sister. They then swooped on the town centre to see old Bloated Bluey, the town drunk, who was always found by the river wearing his navy raincoat, a bottle of whisky in hand. It was nothing severe. He’d been harassing some people again in the street the other day so Vladimir wanted a quiet little word.
By two o’clock in the morning they’d done everything they needed to. As they wandered back through the town, Vladimir was not surprised to hear Jake suggest that they all visit a nightclub called Ice Breakers so that they could unwind. Whilst it wasn’t an atmosphere that Vladimir naturally fitted in with, he agreed to go there all the same. Jake and Clint would no doubt sit in a corner drinking themselves into a hazy state while Vladimir would retain his senses and people-watch. It was one of his favourite pastimes, and it was necessary to keep his finger on humanity’s thinning pulse.
‘Vladimir? Can I get you anything?’ Jake asked him as he stood at the bar in the nightclub.
‘Just a Coke,’ Vladimir shouted back above the thumping music.
‘Of course.’
‘Always got to keep your focus…’
‘Whatever. You should let your hair down every now and again,’ Jake shouted back to him.
Vladimir ignored him. They were two completely different people and whilst Vladimir could easily comprehend that fact, he did not expect Jake to. Besides, he wasn’t about to get into a deep and meaningful conversation about it right now.
The young vigilante understood a lot about people in this town. He knew what made them tick, what they liked to do, and why they liked to do it. He could fathom why, at this very moment, Jake felt like losing himself in drink, that there were deep feelings inside that he wanted to numb, and that alcohol was the only resource he knew of to do that. But just because Vladimir understood people, it didn’t mean that he was like other people. He knew that he was of a completely different sort to everyone. No one had the same perceptions that Vladimir had. Of that, he was certain.
Looking around himself at the other nightclubbers dancing and drinking in the dazzling disco lights, he could perceive more than what they could. He could see within that
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