Читать книгу Newark Minutemen - Leslie K. Barry - Страница 20

Our swingin’ bats shatter the City Hall Tavern windows like a cascading ocean wave. The crash seizes my heart faster than a gunshot blast. The guests of Kuhn, who had just a moment ago been juicin’ up for a rousing night, now squeeze their eyes to block the shards and slivers of glass sprayin’ them like cactus spine.

Harry, Puddy, and I barge through the openings under cover of the rainin’ glass. We strike a wall of stormtroopers who fight back with just as much vigor. Nat and the rest of the Minutemen pour in and ambush like seasoned lions—focused, fierce, bloodthirsty. The good news for us—Führer Fritz Kuhn won’t have his Bund rally anytime tonight.

As Al creaks open a floor trapdoor, a stormtrooper raises his belt buckle to whack him. Behind the trooper, Nat points to the Nazi’s back and wallops him with his bat. The trooper flies faster than a Babe Ruth baseball sheddin’ its canvas. The loser twirls in front of me and I deliver a left-handed knockout punch.

As the heads of Al and Benny emerge from below ground, they sing “Peek-a-boo.” Their arms wrap around high black boots. Troopers topple, crunching glass against the floor.

Our pal Puddy is toe to toe with Trooper Frank. Three more Troopers join the sparring. Harry and I come to the rescue. The Nazis hear us before they see us and scramble like pigs bein’ rounded up for slaughter. Puddy winds up and knocks Frank out. We didn’t even have to get our hands dirty on that one.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something comin’ at me. Just in time, I duck out of the way of Trooper Axel’s lead-lined rubber hose. On the backswing, it wraps around my bat. I pull tight, and hurl him into a fightin’ scrum. Around me, the grunts and smacks make me wince. I glance up and raise a fist to signal the boys above. The distraction gets the better of me because the next thing I know, a jolt of pain rips though my ribs. The taste of iron swishes in my mouth, and I drop to my knees. My muscles ripple in anticipation of another blow when I hear the chime, “Doy-resn.” Abie soars down and flattens the crow-body broodin’ over me. I hear bones crunch. Next to me, Maxie lands on uniformed shoulders and rides the soldier like a swashbuckler. Abie throws a punch to the swayin’ Nazi’s breadbasket and Maxie slides down just before the guy splinters a wooden table to pieces.

The heavy-duty German officer from earlier hunkers behind Kuhn’s guards. He covers his head with one arm and maneuvers his stout wife around the twisted limbs on the floor. From a heap of bloodied torsos, Heidi grabs the shoulder belt of her shaky boyfriend Frank and hanks him up. She huddles them both behind the guards to safety.

The other daughter, Krista, hangs in the crux of rowdy bedlam. In a flash, my eye spots a blurry object rocketing toward her red dress. I spiral through the air and bat it away. A brick. It would’ve bruised her badly. Steps away, her boyfriend ducks out under the diverted weapon. From the ground, I growl at the girl. “Get out of here before we hurt you.” My mouth tastes like a spoonful of pennies.

Her Nazi boy’s face is flushed. His eyes blaze red, and in a mad scramble to rescue her, Axel shoves aside Troopers and dodges Minutemen. He grips her. She writhes like a cat. He drags her body to the escape route. He turns and scowls at me like a rabid wolf.