The Telltale Bow

This was a 750 word story challenge for the above picture. I’m reposting for Fandango’s Friday Flashback — September 4 as this was written exactly one year ago.

Hope you like it!

The Telltale Bow

“So, come on, Logan. who’s going to win?”

“I don’t know, Locke. No getting mad if my team wins though” the two twenty-year-olds were wearing opposing shirts ahead of the football game they were going to see. Without breaking step, they traded smirks.

“Ah, I won’t need to. City isn’t going to lose.” Logan smoothed a hand over his stylishly cut short mahogany hair. “Oh Locke, I…” he cut himself off, Locke wasn’t beside him anymore. Logan spun on his toes. There he was down on a knee looking at something. “Locke, what are you doing?”

“Something’s wrong,” he replied. Logan came back to him. There on the asphalt was a red bow.

“That’s just junk. Come on, the game will start without us.”  

“No, Logan.” He looked up with seriousness in his grey eyes. “This bow was torn from a head of hair. The blond strands stuck in it still have follicles attached.”  

“Ah, come on, Locke. It’s just a bloody bow and you’re not at work.” Logan folded his arms in displeasure.

Locke shook his head of dark-brown hair. “I am off duty, but I can’t walk away when somebody needs me.”

“Where’s the someone. There’s nobody but us about.” The boys had taken a much quieter route toward the stadium. There were a few cars motoring about but no foot traffic here.

“There.” Locke indicated an alley between two shops. Both were closed down – thanks to Brexit issues – he’d bet. “Don’t you feel it?” he asked.

“What the disappointment of missing kick-off, you mean? Yeah, it’s growing stronger by the second.” Logan looked frustrated, “Come on, let’s go.”

Locke stood, and walked to the alley a few steps away. He could feel presence somewhere within. He could feel it spiking his heartrate and sharpening his senses. Logan came to stand at his shoulder. The two exchanged a knowing glance before he turned his steely eyes into the alley. He looked into the sunless space glancing over rolltop bins, piles of cardboard boxes and split bin-bags.

“Ready Logan?”

“I’m ready, Locke.” the two knocked knuckles and strode into the alley.

Rats scuttled away as they passed deeper into the frightful, narrow space. Ahead it opened left and right behind the shops. A scuffling and muffled crying could be heard now. Locke pointed to his ear then to his left. He then motioned to Logan and around to the right. Logan nodded, ducked behind the bins and vanished. Locke walked straight into the loading area, A rusted iron gate showed where lorries would enter. At first nobody was visible. Locke moved in behind the shop, his sense on alert. Then he saw him, a large man; all in black. He was using the shadowy alcove of a roller-shutter to do his dirty work. He had a meaty hand over the mouth of a terrified young lady. His other hand was working to get her blouse off.

“Stop touching her, or I’ll break both your hands.” Locke had taken a fighting stance as he revealed himself. The man snapped around, dumping his victim to the floor. She screamed and cowered against the wall.

“Hallo, hero. Come to die, ‘ave you?”

“Try me,” Locke beckoned him. The man roared, charged like a bull. Locke caught him with a knee in the chest, then the two were trading blows like gladiators. A bin took the brunt of a savage kick, a stack of pallets fell. Locke recoiled from a punch that grazed his cheek. He returned one, cracking the man in the nose. It was then he found himself pinned to another bin. He smiled and pointed behind him. The man looked over a shoulder, saw another figure stood there and looked right back at Locke. His eyes grew wide, he looked back again and shook his head in confusion.

“Seeing double?” Logan smiled, stepped forward and unleashed a jaw bending kick. The man snapped back to Locke who decked him with a well-measured punch.

“We’re double trouble,” he said while restraining him with his own belt. With the danger subdued Locke used his phone to make a police report. The two walked over to the young lady and helped her stand.

“You okay?” Locke asked.

“I will be, thanks to you.” She cast her blue eyes over her rescuers. “You’re twins?”

“We are. He’s Locke, I’m Logan and you’re welcome.”

“Will you be our referee at the football?” Locke requested.

“Sure, I’m Cassie. Let’s go boys.”

The End

Thanks for reading!

Check out more of my tales in the Short Stories and Short Stories 2 tabs too.

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