The smell attacked my nostrils unpleasantly, the best way I can describe the smell is like a mix between rotten fruit and shit. With the smell occupying my interest I look up to see the offending article to my sense of smell. What do I see? A hobo.
Now that I think about what is a hobo doing here? He won't have any money to buy anything so whys he here? I'm not the only one who's suspicious; my eyes met with one of the fat security guards who's also looking him over (the other ones passed out on the bar), and his expression of that of one of both suspicion and disgust. Even Will's looking at him funny, but then I see him shrug it off. Must be used to it. He's muttering to himself as he picks up a tray and loads some glasses (that women and mines order I think) onto it and makes his way slowly towards the hobo. I look back at the hobo, and give him a proper look over.
The guy had shoulder length, brown hair caked with grease, which reminded me of all these 'great' rock stars on stage. He also had sorta white-grey jeans marked with grass stains everywhere. The guy has obviously been sleeping rough. He was wearing a matching grey jacket, with a white t-shirt. He was hunched over and having trouble keeping upright a sure sign he was drunk, probably of that cheap industrial alcohol crap. The hobos greasy hair obscuring his face.
Will had walked as slowly as he could towards the drunken hobo, I could see Will was having a hard time avoiding scrunching up his nose from that smell. He stood a few feet away from the hobo and tried to get his attention.
"Uh sir?" started Will his tone polite, businesslike, a tone I usually heard from customer's that weren't welcome here . "Sir would you like something?"
"Urrggh" the Hobo stirred, its fists clenching and unclenching rapidly.
"Sir, if your not going to order anything then I'm afraid your going to have to leave." continued Will, his face grim.
Suddenly the hobo made a movement towards Will as if to grab him, but Will accustomed to having drunks move towards him aggressively, side stepped him and then swung the tray towards the hobo's face. With a wet, heavy, meaty smack, the hobo staggered back outside. Will immediately slammed the door shut and turned the lock.
"Sorry about that, it's been a while since we've had the likes of him." He said sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck "I'll unlock the door once he's realised he's not welcome and he buggers off."
Just then I heard a sudden thud. I spun round in my stool to see-
The ill looking fat security guard fall off his stool, his buddy leapt off his stool, and knelt down beside him, he was checking for a pulse. Cindy also made her way over towards them.
"Bob?"
No answer.
"Bob?" the concern in his voice was now evident.
"Damnit, he's unconscious," he withdrew his hand from Bob's neck.
"Does anyone know where a phone is so I can call an am-"
The guard was cut short by a sudden heavy pounding on the door where the Hobo had fell out a few minutes ago.
"Well someone's very pissed off today." remarked Will. I started chuckling.
"We're closed!" he shouted
Still chuckling, I looked out the window and nearly fell out my stool in shock.
"AHHH!" I cried.
At the window, there was a man… if that's how you would want to describe it. It had its face pressed up eagerly on the glass. I-it had no-no- no no… mouth! All around the cheek were teeth marks like someone had bit it off. It had instead a toothy grin, a yellowy grey grin stained with blood. As my eyes travelled up from that grin, I noticed that his skin was falling off exposing the red stingy muscle below, but that wasn't the worst part. It was the eyes. As my eyes locked with his I recoiled in horror. His eyes had no colour, just a strange, dead, hungry gleam. It was awful. My shudder excited the beast, he begun to pound the glass franticly, all the time while staring at me.
Another horrified gasp came from my left where that thirty something woman with the laptop had been sitting. I looked to my left and seen another of these-these zombie like people hitting the window with a dull thud. Looking out the window I saw more of them, moving down Rowantree Street.
No way!"What we gonna do now!" I wailed.
Bob had come round from his fainting fit. Both Cindy and the other security guard were tending to him.
At my panic induced wail he surveyed the situation, and decided on a course of action almost immediately, he told Cindy to help Bob up. The relentless pounding was making the door creak and jerk uneasily in its frame. It didn't look like it was going to last much longer.
"First things first, "came the security guards voice. "We're going to block that door."
"With what, Fattie?" came the thirty something women from the other side of the room; She was wearing a nametag, which identified her as, a newspaper reporter. I didn't get long enough to read the name right it was Alice or Alison or something like that.
"There's nothing I can see that'll do the job." Her face was arranged in a sceptical expression, as if she doubted the man's integrity. I guess that comes with the territory of Journalism.
"It's quite simple really miss, you and that gentlemen there, " (he pointed at me as he said gentleman) "are both using beer barrels as tables, the weight of them'll keep the door from being forced open." He ran quickly towards the thirty something women's table.
"You son," he pointed at me again. "Help the waiter push that barrel over to the door, and hurry! That door won't hold out much longer if we don't get something about it."
Will and I immediately made a start on pushing the table towards the door. The keg weighed an absolute ton! Our frantic struggling paid off and we managed to get the barrel wedged at the door. Right behind us were Mark and the thirty something women pushing the second keg next to it.
The security guard overlooked the makeshift barricade and gave an approving nod.
"Good," he turned to Will and a serious expression settled on his face he moved back towards Bob, and helped Cindy support him, "Does this bar have anywhere we can evacuate to, and call the cops?"
It was Will who answered.
"We could use the staff room, it's on the second floor and there's a phone we can use to call for help."
"Good, then lets go to it" the security guard replied.
"Cindy! Get the key out from behind the counter would you?" shouted Will "And take out the gun would you? I've a feeling we may be needing it."
I watched as Cindy headed to the back of the counter and stopped besides the till and pulled out a key with a red tag, presumably for the staff room and a small, black, handgun.
"Got it" Cindy yelled. "I'll go unlock the door."
She took off towards the door and I begun to follow. The security guard placed a hand on my shoulder and directed me to his ill comrade.
"Help me take him upstairs son." I helped shoulder Bob who was barely standing by himself, whilst the security guard cast a last look around, the gun on the counter caught his eye. It was still lying there, glinting darkly in the dull light emanating from the ceiling.
"Wait a second." He commanded.
Hey! Com'on! Survival of the darn fittest! I need to go! Those weirdoes are gonna break in any minute now. I don't have time for this! My thoughts screamed, but something held me back and for once I listened.
He strode over to the bar and picked the gun up. Then he did something with it. He slid some rectangular shaped thing and looked at it. I took this opportunity to look around the room. Will, Cindy and the reporter women had already left the room, and this Bob guy was no featherweight. I was struggling to hold him upright for much longer.
"Hmm…. A full clip could be handy." I heard him mutter to himself.
The security guard slipped the handgun into his waistband and walked briskly back over and helped me with Bob. We then walked very slowly towards the door Cindy and the others had gone through. We laboured up the steps, (after the Security guard had locked the door that led into the stairway and pushed a heavy chest of drawers so that they blocked the doorway) and stumbled through an open doorway. We arrived into what looked like a roomy enough place. It had some armchairs a desk, a sofa, a TV in the top corner where the armchairs and sofa's met and a dartboard! Awesome! I can shoot some darts while I wait for the cops to arrive and bust some ass.
As we came in we heard Cindy on the phone, telling the police about our current plight. "They're trying to force entry to the premises; we've blocked and barricaded the doorway so to stop them from gaining access. We're currently holed up in the staff room. How many people? I don't know five to ten; I think we don't know if they have weapons, though."
She stopped for a moment, as a garbled female voice came down the line.
"Oh! You meant how many people are with me? Six people including myself. You'll send a unit as soon as possible? Thank you very much!" with a smile, she put the receiver down.
Man she's not your stereotypical dumb blonde is she? Smart Ass!
The security guard and I put Bob down on the sofa, he just sat there breathing in deeply, and he looked bad, whatever was wrong with him it was eating away at him.
Will had turned the TV on, and changed the channel to a grey and fuzzy picture of what looked like… downstairs!
"The Jackmeister had the bar installed with a CCTV system, in case of any thefts in the middle of the night. One of his many precautions; we've yet to see any burglary's here at Jack's" he explained, "So with it we can see what's going on downstairs." We all crammed round the TV screen (except for Bob sat with his eyes closed.) Nothing much had changed although the door was still bouncing against its hinges. I quickly lost interest in the TV and made my way too the fridge I hadn't noticed when I came in. Now that it had my attention I opened it.
Inside were lots of cans of beer.
Yes score! Freebie!I picked up a can of beer, and opened it. The loud hiss made everyone jump.
"Beer?" I said innocently
The reporter was giving me a filthy look. Cindy was wearing an expression that looked torn between laughing and telling me off. Will was doubled over in fits of silent laughter. The security guard had a small smile on his face. The faintest sounds of laughter could be heard from Bob.
"What?" I shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. I failed miserably though. I had a small smile on my face.
Everyone broke into peals of laughter.