I started a new story to share on Steemit. It's not my usual type of tale, but I decided it has legs so I'm going to let it run.
Meet Zack, my newest character. I hope you like him.
The first part was written a few weeks ago and since then, I've been mulling it over in my head where the story needs to go.
Pictures from Google free to use search
Please note: This is the FIRST DRAFT, no editing, written straight onto paper.
A little more than usual today, I seemed to have got caught up in the action... ;)
Taylor watched the doormen in Zack’s team circle the dance floor.
He saw what Zack had seen and watched with growing curiosity.
The reputation of Zack and his team spread further than the town limits, even relative outsiders knew not to cause trouble deliberately.
“What can I get you, Taylor?” the barmaid asked, touching his arm.
“The usual, please, Deb,” he said, turning to smile at her but swiftly returning his gaze to the growing tension on the dance floor.
Deb tapped his arm once more and handed him a tumbler with amber liquid and ice.
He took the glass without taking any notice of the drink and passed a ten-pound note to the barmaid.
She had his change ready and swapped it in an expert move.
“Thanks Deb,” Taylor said, in a distracted tone.
He took a sip of his drink and looked at it. An expression of realisation hit him.
He’d had a couple of glasses of wine at the restaurant and intended to move to orange juice when he got to the club.
The action on the dance floor had side-tracked his good intentions and he looked at the glass again, gave a shrug and sipped it.
The club stocked only one decent whisky and it was a shame to leave it.
“Hey, what’s that you’re drinking?” a girl next to him nudged his arm to get his attention.
Taylor flicked a glance at her and continued his observation of his brother. “Whisky,” he said.
“Can I have a taste?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said. He didn’t look at her again.
He pointedly ignored her and she bought a drink and moved away.
Zack spoke into his radio again.
Taylor cursed the girl for distracting him, he’d missed something.
The dance floor exploded into action.
Taylor watched with pure fascination.
The muscled guy turned and took a swing at Zack, believing the head doorman hadn’t been watching him all along.
Zack dodged to the side, to avoid the punch.
Taylor saw a glint of light and his stomach lurched at his first thought of ‘knife.’
He wasn’t much comforted when he realised it was not a knife the muscled guy wielded, but knuckle-dusters.
If the knuckle-dusters punch had landed on an unsuspecting victim it would be ‘lights out’ for sure – potentially on a permanent basis.
Taylor straightened up as the knuckle-duster swung past the intended target, his instincts to go and help his brother foremost in his mind.
He held himself in check with great difficulty, knowing his brother had a strong team behind him and he could look after himself.
Plus the fact that Taylor had been drinking and brother or not, he wasn’t part of the team and would be in as much trouble as any brawler if the police came to call.
Taylor stood by with nothing for it but to watch.
A guy came running out of the melee to grab a bottle from the bar-top.
He turned with the intent of going back to the dance floor to inflict damage.
Taylor caught hold of the raised arm, taking the guy by surprise.
The bottle-wielder turned to see why his arm holding the bottle wasn’t following him into the fray and realised he’d been caught.
He turned to snarl at Taylor, shook his arm free and altered his target and aimed for Taylor’s face.
Taylor let go of the guy’s arm and punched him on the nose in an action borne of years of practice. The punch rocked the guy back on his heels before he understood he’d made a mistake. The bottle still raised, he came at Taylor again.
Without letting go of his glass or spilling a drop of the whisky, Taylor again landed a punch.
The guy may have been pumped full of ‘enhancers’ but a clean and powerful blow to the jaw floored him. His eyes rolled up, the bottle still clutched in his hand as his legs crumpled beneath him and he dropped to the floor like a sack of spuds.
Taylor downed the whisky and placed the glass on the bar. He ignored the crumpled heap on the floor and the astonished glances from people standing at the bar near to him.
After a split-second’s pause, everyone in his proximity moved away from him by one step. The move looked choreographed and he allowed himself a small inward grin.
“Dude, you should be a bouncer too,” a drunk lad said to him in a whisper filled with awe.
Taylor shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll leave that to my brother,” he said, nodding in Zack’s direction.
The knuckle-duster, muscled-guy took another swing at Zack. One of the door team grabbed him, to prevent the swing completing its arc. Both attacker and doorman’s arms jolted with the impact as they slammed into each other.
The attacker turned to glare at the doorman and it looked as though he was used to his glare causing an opponent to back down – not this time.
The doorman’s team worked well together. One more of the team arrived to help disarm the attacker and Zack moved out of the way, turning to help quell the fight that had broken out as response to people being shoved out of the way and blaming each other, reacting in violence rather than understanding what was happening around them.
One guy, not apprehended by the door team, still revved up and ready to rumble staggered backwards off the dance floor. He turned and saw the unconscious bottle-attacker and made to kick him. Taylor leaped forward to push him back so his kick couldn’t land on the downed victim.
The guy tried to fight back but Taylor had him in an arm-lock before he knew it and he pushed him out of the doors towards the club reception.
A couple of door staff waited to help their team mates, preventing anyone else entering the club while the fight took place.
“This hero took a kick at a guy while he was unconscious. I think he should leave before Zack finds out,” Taylor said, shoving the guy into the arms of one of the door team.
“Right-o, Taylor. Thanks,” he said and bundled the guy out of the doors with a non-too gentle shove to get him over the threshold.