Brawlers

Brawlers

  By

  Luke Trozzo

  Copyright 2012 Luke Trozzo

  When I entered the bar I was immediately struck by two things. The first was the smell, not unpleasant as I expected to be but more like spiced liqueur, possibly the drink the waitress just carried past me. The second thing was a bar stool.

  I had no idea where it came from and frankly didn’t care. All my confused brain wanted to do was shut down. I was awoken suddenly by a shout from my friend who was engaged in a lively boxing match with three other gentlemen, a common occurrence for Ramirez. A fourth man lay slumped over the bar, groaning occasionally. I tried to stand without vomiting; I managed the first but not the second of these tasks and leaned my back against the wall with my hands resting on my knees.

  Lazily wiping my mouth I stood upright and realised that I could not see out of my right eye due to a large amount of blood gushing down from a wound that had opened up just above my swollen brow. Ramirez called my name again, bringing me back into the present to find the location of my previous assailant.

  I didn’t have to look for long, he found me first. The man approached me, swinging wildly with a left hook. I ducked back as far as possible from the fist and allowed him to lose his balance before stepping forward and slapping both hands across his ears, hard enough to cause a ringing sensation in any adult, leaving him confused and disoriented. He didn’t stand a chance as I brought my foot up and felt my boot connect with his ribs as they gave way to the onslaught.

  This fight was far from over, however, as another wave of men poured into the room. I glanced over at Ramirez to check his progress with his last group of attackers, just in time to see him pick the last one up around the neck and sling him over his back before jerking suddenly down with his other arm over the unfortunate mans knees. The crack reverberated through the bar, loud enough to be heard over the charging cavalcade of patrons. It was a sickening sound, that crack, which set my teeth on edge and almost made me think twice about the new group of fighters heading my way. I didn’t have time to think twice for long as the first of them took his swing.

  I ducked the first, sending an elbow into his side before readying myself for the next punch. It came in the form of two men coming at me from either side; I saw the left pulling back his arm to swing and the right readying himself should I attempt to run. A quick duck and slide was all I needed to avoid the fist from the left and send it straight to the man to my right.

  It connected alright. It connected hard.

  The man that was standing there a moment ago spun about on his axis before stumbling backwards into a table. For his part the man who had swung at me a moment before looked horrified at what he had done to his comrade. I took a quick step towards him, throwing first one and then two punches directly to his cheek bones. He spun and landed heavily on top of his friend whom he had dropped moments before.

  Smirking to myself, confident I could escape this situation easily, I turned to face the next man in my line of assailants and was in no way prepared for what stood before me.

  I’m a firm believer that life deliberately throws some opportunities at you for a reason, oftentimes allowing a simple ‘A versus B’ scenario, or in some cases ‘fight or flight’. This is our most natural and ingrained of all impulses, and here the impulses were strong. Even standing at my full height of six foot one, I still would not have reached the shoulders of the beast of a man standing in front of me.

  Bravely, I acknowledged the large man with a tilt of my head and fled for all I was worth.

  He may have been much bigger but he was slower, especially through the bar littered with upturned tables and chairs. I stopped briefly on my way out the door as I passed my friend.

  ‘Ramirez! We gotta go, now!’ I grabbed him by the arm and he shrugged me off just so that he could slam one last face into a table, causing it to collapse and the drinks that were upon it went flying across the room, shattering in the path of the large man following me. He threw up his arms and stopped entirely as the shards of glass spread about him. For his part, Ramirez simply looked back at me with an enormous grin plastered across his face and tutted at the cut across my forehead.

  ‘Lecture me later, we have to run!’ I turned to look back at the large man, suddenly a lot closer than I remembered. ‘Now!’ I shouted and began running in the opposite direction. This time, however, I was not fast enough. The pull that I felt around the collar of my shirt was immense and sent me straight to the ground, slamming my still fragile skull against the hard floor. For a moment I feared that I would pass out; then upon looking up at the towering beast above me I feared that I wouldn’t pass out.

  The giant man smiled broadly, a huge, dumb smile that covered his upside down face from ear to ear, as he prepared to plunge his fist directly into my nose. There was nothing I could do from where I was, and even if I could, my body didn’t have the energy to keep up. I resigned myself to the fist that was plummeting towards me, hoping that I would black out before it came. Unfortunately I didn’t black out, but nor did the punch land. Instead it was Ramirez who landed a hit, jumping directly at the large man, who was now bent over to hit me, and brought his knee directly up into the big man’s nose.

  He reeled backwards, hands clutched over his face as blood poured out. He stumbled backwards and tripped over a table, landing heavily with a thud and the child-like chime of shattering glass. Ramirez grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet.

  ‘Come on, I thought you were in a hurry?’ He said, chuckling.

  ‘Yeah, let’s keep moving. They can’t be far ahead of us.’

  I took one last look around the bar at the swathe of destruction we had left in our wake. Tables were overturned, roughly a dozen men lay on the ground, wounded and bleeding, some groaned, some didn’t move at all. And the big man lay on his back rolling slightly, trying to stem the constant flowing blood from his face and shouting obscenities in what I presume was German.

  Ramirez stood at a door behind a bar leading to the next room, holding it open, gesturing for me to follow him through. I took a step towards him and that is when the adrenaline started wearing off and the shock settled in.

  My legs were the first thing to go out, unfortunate considering their necessity in vacating these premises. They gave way beneath me and I collapsed suddenly, landing hard against the door frame and sliding down, facing back the way we had come, at the destroyed bar. My vision swam and I could smell something burning; I felt as though a thousand ants were crawling through my ears, into my brain and down my body. I knew my eyes were still working, I could feel them moving, desperately searching for something to orient the rest of my confused brain, but I could not see. All that made sense to me was a series of multicoloured shapes moving in and out of focus sickeningly quickly.

  I could feel my stomach churning again as my brain felt like it was being thrown around the deck of a ship. I tried to brace myself with my hands and stand up but not only did my arms not respond the way I wanted to -they simply rose slightly before going limp at my sides again-, but the rest of my body refused to co-operate with all its other components. This was coupled with an arm working its way under my shoulders in an effort to help me to my feet. The only thought I could conjure up in my befuddled mind was: big man.

  Sure enough, the arm that had worked its way under my own to help me up was suddenly pulled away with such force that I spun around again before landing face first on the floor amidst several shards of glass. I couldn’t feel the lacerations across my face but I could see the colours that filled my vision changing to mostly red. A shout emanated from somewhere to my side which I immediately knew to be Ramirez. I focused my mind as much as I possibly could and rolled over onto my side to view the action unfolding in fr
ont of me.

  With another cry of anguish from Ramirez my vision managed to focus, not entirely but just enough to see the important parts in front of me. The big man was back on his feet, a smile dripping with malice spread across his face as he held Ramirez by the collar and whom he pummelled with one enormous fist again and again and again. Ramirez’s legs couldn’t support him either; the only thing keeping him upright apparently was the grip around his collar. The blood around the big man’s face was still flowing, some of it making its way down his chin while a small amount dripped of his nose and onto Ramirez’s clothes, where it mingled with his blood.

  I was just close enough to do whatever I could, my friend had helped me countless times before tonight, I would return the favour. I’d be damned if I was going to be stuck in his debt, I’d never hear the end of it. Looking around for anything I could find, my eyes finally settled on a large triangular shard of glass near my hand and roughly the same size. I picked it up and edged my way over to the man laying his monstrous fists into my friends face. Once I was within reach, I summoned all the strength I had left and plunged the shard into the big man’s calf, opening a gash as deep as it was long.

  With a shout, the big man dropped Ramirez to the floor, who coughed up and spat a small glob of blood before standing again and wiping his mouth. The big man turned to me but I had no fight left in me, I rolled onto my back and for the second time that night, resigned myself to the punch that had been waiting to meet me.

  I felt for sure I must’ve been dreaming as my head lolled to the side and I saw Ramirez stand. He had one hand clutched over his face, the other wiping a smear of blood from his shirt. His hands dropped to his side and he lunged at the big man for all he was worth, tackling him to the ground.

  From my position on my back I could see that the two of them were on a relatively even playing field: blood, dripping from various wounds; broken bones, obvious beneath unbroken skin; and a myriad of cuts, tears and abrasions from the fight that felt like it had been going on for hours. But the fight was taking its toll on the big man, clearly a less experienced and less skilled fighter than Ramirez.

  He charged at Ramirez again, like a rabid bull, preparing to gut his victim with his own bare hands. I could barely believe my eyes as my friend didn’t move, didn’t flinch, and hardly seemed to register the one hundred and fifty kilos of muscle charging towards him. I went to shout out, to warn my friend to get the hell out of the chargers way. I had no voice left. I tried to signal something, anything to my friend. But lying here on the ground, there was nothing within reach. And in that terrifyingly helpless moment I could only watch as the big man reached Ramirez and begun swinging both fists with every ounce of strength he had left.

  Not a single punch connected.

  Ramirez simply waited for his bigger, but slower, opponent to enter past the point of no return. Once he was within arm’s reach, Ramirez took a single step to the side and as the big man past, brought his elbow down upon the exposed mans neck. The big man stumbled with the blow, his feet not registering what had happened to the rest of his body. But Ramirez was far from done here. As the man’s momentum carried him further forward, my friend threw a single punch into the ribs of the slowly crumbling mountain of a man. Even from my position on the floor metres away, I could still hear the distinct cracking of at least two ribs.

  That was it, the fight was over. The big man’s movements carried him head first into the bar, where his head hit the solid wood, denting it slightly before he slid down to the ground. He didn’t get back up.

  I was still looking at him, expecting more men to rush from the door ways around us. But no such reinforcements came; we were finally done with this ridiculous night. Our original plans had been laid to waste in the wake of this potentially deserved fight.

  Without a word, Ramirez picked me up off the floor and slung me over his shoulder. We both winced with the effort as pain lanced through various parts of our bodies. He laughed very slightly before making another face at the pain he felt from that simple movement, bruises were already starting to form on his face.

  ‘You know, I just wanted a simple drink.’ He said, the smile leaving his face but still he retained that trace of it in his voice.

  ‘When is it ever a simple drink with us?’ I said in reply. We stepped over the two men slumped over one another, a small pool of blood expanding outward slowly.

  We turned when we got outside, not saying another word, heading for another pub just down the road. Hopefully this one would be a bit more... welcoming. The door swung closed behind us, hiding the sight of broken chairs and bodies as police sirens whirred closer and closer.

  ###

  About the author:

  I am an aspiring creative writer and, hopefully, soon to be English teacher in Perth Western Australia. I welcome any feedback, thoughts or constructive criticisms you may have on the piece and if you would like to read any others then don’t hesitate to contact me.

  Connect with me online:

  https://www.facebook.com/luke.trozzo