Excerpt
But suddenly it was too late. The boards creaked on the wooden walkway outside the door. The handle gave a soft groan as it was tested. They were here.
Jacob Butts sprinted back across the room and threw himself into his big leather armchair near the fireplace, and he flinched as the door crashed open. They were the usual sorts, big men in long coats and assorted hats. And carrying big sticks.
The first two through the door looked straight at Jacob Butts, raised their sticks and charged. And when they ran onto the rug it folded beneath them and they disappeared down the hole.
The third man stopped dead with his feet on the edge. His stick flew into the air as he flapped his arms like a wild bird trying to lift off from thick mud. He almost managed to turn around but the fourth man was already too close and slammed into him. He flipped forward and dropped like a sack of potatoes down on top of his pals.
He might have screamed, but Jacob Butts didn’t hear him. He was too busy wondering what the fourth man was going to do.
But the fourth man was one of life’s followers. He depended on others for guidance. He needed directions. On his own he couldn’t think fast enough. And now he was flummoxed. He wasn’t even a proper member of the gang. He was only there to make up the numbers. The others didn’t want him to come in the first place, but he clung to them like a bad smell. They warned him that if anything went wrong he was on his own.
And now it had. And he was.
Raw fear turned into dark rage. He had a huge face, like a full moon but without the light. He bellowed something as he pointed at Jacob Butts, skipped around the edge of the rug and launched his attack.