Homecoming

[lawrencegillies.livejournal.com]

 

 

Neachtan ran down the familiar streets. The main storm had passed, but now the scavengers were out in force, looking to take what they could from the chaos. He saw his apartment block ahead of him, fortunately no burning as some of the buildings in the neighbourhood were.

He didn’t see any faces he knew on the street, and no-ne was feeling brave enough to get in the way of a six foot four heavily muscled man who emanated a desperate fury.. He entered the building, only noticing when he was halfway up the first flight of stairs that the door had been hanging from its hinges.

He redoubled his speed and reached the floor where the apartment that he shared with his fiancé was. He was beginning to feel short of breath as he slammed into the wall as he took the corner. He could just make out that his apartment door was not on its hinges as he surged forward once again.

He burst into the flat and took in the scene:

Aeli was standing in the kitchen, her blue eyes flashing anger, her blouse ripped, a large frying pan held out to handed in front of her. Three men stood before her. Two of them were brandishing knives, one hung back slightly holding his left shoulder, the arm dangling loose beneath his hand. 

There was a pause, a moment of tension as Neachtan snarled soundlessly at them, and seemed to them to grow broader and bulkier before their eyes sand then the silence was broken.

 “Back off man she’s…” one of the intruders began, a slight quaver in his voice, turning his blade towards the newcomer. His threat was cut short as Neachtan charged.

 He barrelled into the two armed men and all three hit the far wall with a sickening crunching sound.

 Some plaster fell from the ceiling and bounced unnoticed off Neacthan’s broad, hairy shoulder as he stood up.

 The two knifemen fell in almost a peeling motion from the cracked and battered wall as Neachtan reached down and pulled the a knife from his side.

 There was a sharp metallic “spang!” from behind him, and he turned to see the third man sinking to his knees, his knife slipping from unconscious fingers as Aeli stood over him, the frying pan still held two handed where it had impacted on the back of his skull.

 “Bastard shouldn’t have taken his eyes off me!” she muttered, then Neachtan was there, gathering her up into his arms as he shifted back to his more accustomed shape.

 “You’s arite hen?” he said as he kissed her. Her response was mumbled into his chest.

She held on to him for a moment, and he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and then he set her down again. 

“Ah’ve gottae get out there and try tae calm some o’ that shite oot there.” He said, jerking his head towards the street. She looked up at him, then nodded.

He grabbed two collars and an ankle and headed back out onto into the chaos that had descended upon London.

Aeli watched him go, then sank down onto the floor, supporting herself on her hands, her long blonde hair falling over her face as she felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she shook slightly as the adrenalin left her system.