Since the ancient excerpt from my first Clive Thunderbolt-penned book went so well, here’s an almost-as-ancient excerpt from the sequel…
The bell jangled cheerfully as Janice led the hunting party into the kitchen from the herb garden. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the lower light levels inside, but in those moments she thought that she saw movement in the hallway.
She allowed everyone inside and gave all of them time to seat themselves around the table before she drew Wozniak aside.
“We’re not alone.” She whispered from behind the cover of the fridge door.
Wozniak went riged.
“Oh I think that there’s enough milk for all of us.” He said for the benefit of the others.
“How do you know?” He whispered.
“I saw movement in the hallway.” Janice replied with a tremor in her voice that threatened to become a scream. “I think it was a leg. I saw bare skin. It must be him!”
Wozniak made a quick decision.
“There’s not enough room in here for all of us to get into a bout of fisticuffs with anyone: someone’s liable to get hurt. You make the tea: I’ll take a dekko.”
Janice grasped Wozniak’s arm.
“Not by yourself?”
“I’ll take Tom.” He tried to smile. “Be ready to send reinforcements.”
“Tom,” Wozniak said loudly as he re-emerged from behind the huge door and collected up the two javelins, “there’s something I want to show you – out in the hall.”
Tom looked puzzled.
“Right-oh.” He said, and obediently followed his brother from the room.
Once in the hallway Wozniak eased the door shut behind them. He explained the situation to Tom.
Tom hummed as he looked up the stairwell.
“He has the high ground. If we go barrelling up there he could easily drop a wardrobe or something equally massive on our heads – and take us both out in one fell swoop. I think this is going to require a modicum of stealth.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Wozniak replied as he held out a javelin to Tom. “Which is why I brought these. There’s no room to swing a baseball bat indoors.”
He then noticed a heavy oak walking stick in the umbrella stand. He pulled it out and checked its considerable weight.
“But we can take this along in case I’m wrong.”
At that moment they heard the sound of a motorcycle arrive outside.
“Impeccable timing as ever.” Tom grinned. “It’s the cavalry.”
Wozniak and Tom strode out to meet P.C Duncan as he heaved his police motorcycle on to its stand. They were both disappointed.
“You haven’t brought your gun!” They stated the blindingly obvious in unison.
“No I haven’t.” The police constable sounded aggrieved. “Two lads came round my place a little while ago telling my wife a cock and bull story about alien invasion. But she remembered you turning up earlier to fetch the young couple away before they got a chance to talk to me – and put two and two together. So she calls me on my mobile, and I came straight ‘round here on the way home. So no gun. And even if I’d been at home I wouldn’t have brought it: it’s not police regulation equipment: I could lose my job. And if I was to discharge it whilst on duty – well the shit would well and truly hit the fan.”
“Well with no gun,” Tom said haughtily, “you might as well fuck off.”
P.C Duncan was surprised at this response.
“No-no,” Wozniak stepped between them, “it’s good you came. I don’t know what the boys told your wife – but I hardly think that there’s an alien invasion in progress. But we do have an intruder. A man. A naked man.”
“With a huge penis.” Tom interjected.
“And we think we’ve got him cornered upstairs.” Wozniak finished.
P.C Duncan raised his eyebrows at this.
“Naked, eh?” He said as he made to push past into the house. “A pervert most likely.”
“You’ll need this.” Wozniak offered the walking stick to the policeman. “He’s very, very, strong.”
“He killed my Rottweiler/Doberman Cross with his bare hands.” Tom added gravity to the situation.
P.C Duncan gulped audibly as he took the stick from Wozniak and checked for the presence of his handcuffs and pepper spray upon his utility belt.
“Right – we’ll see what we can do about this dog-killing flasher, shall we?”
© Paul Trevor Nolan 2014
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