gotta keep 'em separated
prompt: britkids - wendy, jane and alice are the leaders of a riotgrrrrl gang that is perpetually butting heads with a rival gang led by john and thomas. an altercation between their gangs inadvertently lead to a full blown riot, and shenanigans ensue.
It was early evening, the sky looking as though it was dip-dyed with vivid reds giving way to periwinkle blue, as John Smith meandered leisurely down the mostly-deserted streets. Every now and then he lifted his cigarette, held between bruised knuckles, up to his lips and took a drag. As he rounded a corner, he found himself within the gaze of a small boy and his mother. The woman immediately averted her eyes and ushered the boy onwards, obviously unwilling to share a street with someone who appeared to be a delinquent. John simply grinned at the boy and cracked his knuckles, completely at ease with the world.
That was, until he began approaching the usual spot. Thomas and a few other early arrivals were hanging around the entrance to the alleyway where they met daily. Something appeared to be making them unwilling to venture further, and when Thomas noticed him John gave a questioning look.
Thomas scowled. “Those girls are at it again. Told ‘em to piss off but they just won’t listen. We’ve been listening to them bitch about being underpaid for the past half hour, and I reckon we’re about to go mad.”
John sighed, flicked his cigarette off to the side and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Said girls were your friendly neighbourhood girl gang, only not so friendly. In fact, they were rather given to loud public demonstrations on various rooftops, playing music featuring angry screeching vocals, and had been a source of great irritation for John’s gang since their formation. He could hear them now, chanting angrily about this or that.
“They’re just girls. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them. Bang a few things up and they’ll scatter for sure.”
The red-head gaped back at him. “Yeah, they’re girls, but there’s like fifty of them over there right now. They’d rip us to shreds!”
His co-leader frowned – the number was a bit of an exaggeration - but conceded his point. They would simply have to wait until more of their number showed up.
***
Jane was just about to introduce one of their members who had come up with a piece to say about double standards in the workforce when Alice pulled at her elbow and gestured over to the mouth of the alley. There stood the only other gang that occupied this part of town – John Smith, Thomas Towne and their pathetic pack of lazy layabouts. No doubt they were there to contest the occupancy of the alleyway – a space to which, in girls’ opinions, they had absolutely no claim. They had arrived first, after all.
John sauntered to the head of the pack, and patted his knee in a demeaning gesture, eyes locked straight on Jane. She bristled and clenched her fists but nevertheless made her way off the makeshift stage, which was nothing more than a few crates pushed together. Alice and Wendy, her co-leaders, followed her. Their faces were mirror images of each other, consternation mixed with hatred mixed with anticipation.
John was the first to speak. “Ladies, how many times do we need to go over this? This spot is ours. You’re welcome to every other part of town, just not this one.”
To Jane’s left, Wendy piped up, her face arranged in an uncharacteristic scowl. “You know fucking well enough that this is the only spot around that’s large enough for us. Why don’t you go find somewhere else?”
He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise at the venom in her words, “Well, now, there’s no call for that kind of language, is there?” His words belied the fact that they had exchanged much more than a few curse words during their last encounter. Already a few of the boys behind him were rolling up their sleeves in preparation.
Jane reached up to remove the necklace from around her neck, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Alice, mad little Alice, was itching to reach for the crowbar leaning on the wall beside her. She paid little attention as the other four leaders fired heated words at each other, but she didn’t have to wait for long.
A shove from one side (Thomas) led to a punch from the other (Wendy), and suddenly mayhem was unleashed. Alice could feel her blood pounding in her ears as she quickly dove to wrap her fingers around her weapon before launching herself into the fray. “BRING IT!” The alley erupted into a riotous cacophony of shouts of pain, high-pitched shrieking and fists landing upon faces, with Bikini Kill providing the soundtrack for the whole affair. Once upon a time, the boys might have felt uneasy about taking swings at a girl, but not now. Not when one of them was kicking their shins out from under them and another was wrapped around their shoulders, trying to claw their eyes out. The taste of blood was tangy at the base of Jane’s tongue as she took a blow to the cheek, before immediately responding with one of her own. Near the wall, a girl had managed to wrap herself round Thomas’ legs while another went in for a crushing blow; he kicked viciously until he had managed to extricate himself.
Sweat dripped into John’s eyes as he threw punch after punch; the boys might be stronger, but there were far more of the girls, and from the outset it was anyone’s fight. Bodies kept colliding into him, some attacking, some by pure accident; he knocked one of the larger girls into a wall, whereupon she immediately slid down, out for the count. A second later, he was cornered by three of her friends; he wondered how Thomas was faring, but didn’t have the time to scout around before a fist came flying at his solar plexus.
Someone had decided the crates would make excellent projectiles; an unfortunate girl was flattened underneath one, while another crate was sent into the wall where it smashed into a dozen pieces.
Meanwhile, Wendy and Alice had also been cornered, three on two. One of the boys went for Wendy’s hair, pulling until she gasped in pain. She stamped firmly on his foot, forcing him to let go until she had enough leeway to get her arm across his neck and pin him; the bone crunched under her knuckles as she drove them into his ribs. He crumpled immediately.
Alice swiped the back of her hand across her nose, which was dripping after something, or someone, had smashed into it, before catching another boy in a headlock and allowing Wendy the chance to kick at his groin. Thomas went down with a pained groan, and the girls grinned at each other in victory.
Somehow, fighting her way from one side to another, Jane found herself opposite a bloody and swearing John. Currently, their respective wins and losses to each other in past fights had them sitting at 2-2, if one were keeping score. They wouldn’t be tied for long, Jane thought to herself, before quickly jabbing at John’s jaw. John’s neck was forced painfully back and up; yelling in agony, he drove himself forward until he had crushed Jane onto the ground beneath him. He then reared back, before - “BREAK IT UP!”
Two policemen had arrived, but it took until five had made their way to the alley before all of the fighting ceased. All in all, at least twenty people had to be driven to the hospital; the rest were either smart enough to make a break for it when the police first arrived, or were lined up against the wall to be dealt with. The five leaders were among the latter.
They were questioned repeatedly, but surprisingly enough no one seemed willing to place the entirety of the blame on the other side. In the end, they were made to spend the night in a holding cell. Everyone was far too exhausted to complain or pick a fight, and by morning it had almost become an unspoken peace treaty.
Just as they were parting ways on the pavement outside the police station, ready to face lectures and punishment at home, Thomas yelled out, “Still not your spot!”
This time, it took ten policemen to break them apart.