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datatime: 2022-12-02 05:11:37 Author:OPrIzVsU

'Yes.' She wiped her smarting eyes. 'Gave them the address...'

His reply was greeted with guffaws, and more of the youths began crowding into the tiny front garden. One of them bad an axe, and he heard the woodwork of the front

door begin to splinter. Susan was talking on the phone. Time was running out. Why didn't some of the locals do something? Or were they in sympathy with these louts who sought revenge on the man who was responsible for the terrible mutated virus?

'Dial 999,' he said pushing Susan gently away. 'I'll try and keep 'em talking in the meantime.'

'Let go of her' Newman's voice was lost in the shouting, and he felt himself being pulled along with the crowd. The room was ablaze. It was only a matter of minutes before the entire bungalow became an inferno.

His reply was greeted with guffaws, and more of the youths began crowding into the tiny front garden. One of them bad an axe, and he heard the woodwork of the front

'Come on out or we'll burn the bloody place down' 'Who are they?' Susan was trembling. 'Yobs. I'll bet the oldest one amongst 'em isn't more than twenty. They're just looking for trouble, and dangerous. If the football season had started maybe they wouldn't be here.' 'What are we going to do?'

'What the hell' Professor Newman was on his feet immediately. A hail of stones crashed into the small living-room, smashing the remaining panes of glass in the window, their force retarded by the obstructing flapping curtains.

'If you're not out in ten seconds,' a tall, well-built youth in a black leather jacket and jeans yelled, 'we're smashin' the door down and comin' in'

'Come on out or we'll burn the bloody place down' 'Who are they?' Susan was trembling. 'Yobs. I'll bet the oldest one amongst 'em isn't more than twenty. They're just looking for trouble, and dangerous. If the football season had started maybe they wouldn't be here.' 'What are we going to do?'

Newman struck downwards viciously with a heavy glass ashtray, catching the youth on the forearm. There was a howl of pain, and the improvised torch fell to the carpet. The professor stamped on it immediately. More stones and bricks showered into the room.

'If you're not out in ten seconds,' a tall, well-built youth in a black leather jacket and jeans yelled, 'we're smashin' the door down and comin' in'

'Get your hands off me' Newman hissed.

Three of them had hold of Susan, and were dragging her screaming out into the hall.

'Calm yourselves.' Newman tried to speak evenly. 'The matter is under control. There is no need for panic.'

Her attempts to raise his spirits were interrupted by a crashing and splintering of glass. A heavy object thudded on to the carpet and bounced against the fireplace. It was a jagged half-brick. The curtains blew inwards as the warm breeze of a hot summer's night wafted through the smashed pane.

'What the hell' Professor Newman was on his feet immediately. A hail of stones crashed into the small living-room, smashing the remaining panes of glass in the window, their force retarded by the obstructing flapping curtains.

'We want you. You started this fuckin' disease, and if we've all gotta die then you're goin' to be the first'

A denim-clad arm was thrust in through the flapping curtains. The fingers gripped a rolled newspaper, the flames licking at the nylon material, igniting it instantly.

Newman struck downwards viciously with a heavy glass ashtray, catching the youth on the forearm. There was a howl of pain, and the improvised torch fell to the carpet. The professor stamped on it immediately. More stones and bricks showered into the room.

'Get your hands off me' Newman hissed.

Three of them had hold of Susan, and were dragging her screaming out into the hall.

Newman peered out again. The houses around were in darkness. Only a single streetlamp lit up the bizarre scene. The residents were obviously not going to tangle with the youths. He wondered if anybody was phoning the police.

'What the hell' Professor Newman was on his feet immediately. A hail of stones crashed into the small living-room, smashing the remaining panes of glass in the window, their force retarded by the obstructing flapping curtains.

'Shut your trap' The other struck the professor across the face with the back of his free hand, and Newman tasted blood in his mouth as he staggered back.

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