The Light Within the Storm #AStormOfFanFiction

4. How to Escape an Angry Mob

It was hard to keep track of what happened next. A wall of bodies surged in, fists began flying, and several tables were overturned, spilling liquor across the floor.

"Take that, you bloody bastard! And that!" I broke a bottle over one assailant's head and kicked the other where the sun didn't shine. An ugly face appeared in my line of vision, and, figuring I could only improve it, I punched the face in the nose. My knuckles throbbed in protest, but I told them, "Shut up!" and grabbed the poker from the fire, waving it around me wildly.

Someone jumped on me from behind, and I flailed around, trying to shake him off. The one thing neither of us had counted on was the already scale-tipping weight of my prominent backside, and we toppled over backwards. Thankfully, the fellow cushioned my fall, as I landed smack on top of him. He let out a pained oof.

"Next time, don't underestimate the power of a generous derriere!" I told his prone form as I bounced back to my feet.

I waded back into the fray. Someone had broken a stool, and was using the pieces as clubs. I couldn't see Captain Carter, and hoped he was holding his own. It was impossible to tell who was fighting, who was trying to hold the fighters back, and who was trying to pick everyone else's pockets. I lost my top hat at one point, and at another, I found myself holding someone's rifle, only to lose it a second later.

Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the throng. "Let me go, you bloody bastardo --"

I swung a fist towards the person's stomach, but he grabbed my wrist before it could make contact.

"It's me," whispered Captain Carter. "This way!"

He tugged me out a side door, and we sprinted down an alley.

"We... could've... taken them," I panted. Alright, so maybe I hadn't really kept in shape after returning from Brazil. Sitting eating chocolate instead of dancing at balls will do that to a person!

Captain Carter slowed. "Let's see how long it takes them to notice we're gone," he said jovially. He pulled me over to a window where we had a prime view of the brawl continuing in the pub.

"Your face is kind of a mess," I told him, eyeing the blooming bruises around his eyes and the line of blood trickling from his nose. "Is this normally how you spend your free time?"

"When I'm not at balls charming beautiful women, yes," he said with a wink.

"Brilliant!"

A breeze ruffled my hair, and I realized that my top hat had not made it back onto my head. I quickly stuffed my hair under my collar, hoping it was dark enough that Captain Carter would not realize that he had, in fact, brought a lady to a pub and listened to her talk about hiking through the Amazon in the company of a very male boss and a bunch of Brazilian soldiers.

Inside the pub, Flynn jumped onto a table and held up his hands. "Hold it, hold it! Where'd they go?"

People lowered their makeshift weapons and glanced around in confusion. The pickpockets slunk off surreptitiously. One man took the opportunity to pick his nose.

"They've gotten out! Go after them!" someone shouted, and with a collective roar, the crowd surged out the front door and took off down the street, hollering at the tops of their lungs.

"Time to go," Captain Carter suggested cheerfully. We snuck around to the front, where I had left Prince Albert tied up.

"Come on, nice horse, come on," I said in what I imagined to be a very soothing voice. "Come quietly so we don't get our backsides kicked."

Prince Albert stamped a hoof and pinned his ears back in a thoroughly undiplomatic manner. I tugged on the lead rope, but he stayed more firmly planted in place than Empire House.