The Salvation of Josie

This is a chapter from my book THE SUNDER OF THE OCTAGON, the sequel to THE CATASTROPHE OF THE EMERALD QUEEN.

Both are magical fantasy novels aimed primarily at young adults, with anti-bullying themes. 

The sequence below was inspired by the murder of Sophie Lancaster. The character of Josie is an alternate version of Sophie...but in this case there were otherwordly saviours on hand to save her.

The fighting that ensues was inspired by Krav Maga, especially the way the heroes don't announce themselves until they have to, with the first "baddy" getting ambushed rather than faced in the open.

It's set in Jephson Gardens, a beautiful park in the centre of Royal Leamington Spa, where I live. It's actually locked at night, but please forgive my artistic licence.

The artwork is by the ever tremendous Paul Rose.

Enjoy!

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Excerpt from the The Sunder of the Octagon.

Out now.

Josie’s feet thudded across the wet grass as the rain poured down. Her breath was raw in her throat. The yells followed behind her. The gang had stopped her at the Jephson Gardens park entrance. She’d seen them before but stayed away. Tonight they were drunk and they had wanted to chat. She’d tried to be nice, her heat hammering in her chest and at first they’d been polite. She’d even given them a couple of cigarettes. Then as she walked away she heard one of them say, “Let’s get the freak!” Josie had run then, knowing that this would happen and praying she could make it to the main road through the park in time.

It was around 3am and no one was around to help her. There were seven or eight of them. She didn’t stand a chance. As she ran past the closed café she saw the lights in the distance, outside the old pump rooms. The rain was heavy but she ran faster, her old leather boots limiting movement and her long braided hair soaking wet.

Suddenly she skidded and tumbled forward on the wet tarmac. Josie fell hard, the wind rushing from her lungs and then they were around her, snarling.

“Well, well! Looks like we caught the freak!”

“Shouldn’t go out looking like that, you’re a disgrace.”

Josie looked up, tears burning her eyes as they stood around her. “Please, just leave me alone,” she said weakly, holding out one hand, the black nail varnish chipped on the first two fingers where she’d fallen. They laughed at her.

She looked up to their ugly, hateful faces. The circle around her got smaller. She could smell the beer on their breath.

“Shouldn’t be here,” one said raising his fist.

“Not in our park,” said another.

“Weirdo!”

“Mosher!”

“FREAK!”

She put her hands over her face and tried to curl up away from their hate and their beer and their violence, wishing she was anywhere but here. “Please!” she said again in a whisper.

As they moved in laughing and one drew back his foot to kick her he was suddenly yanked backwards, vanishing into the darkness of the bushes. The others looked around in shock. “What the hell…?” The circle broke, the teenage thugs looked around wildly. The lad emerged again, trying to get free from something that was holding him.

“Help me!” he screamed as he was yanked back briefly and then he seemed to fly from the bushes and sail over their heads, screaming in fear before landing with a splash in the ornamental lake in the middle of the park.

As the lads looked around, Josie took her hands from her face and looked to where a huge figure emerged dripping wet, his face hidden in the shadows of a hooded robe. Next to him was a smaller person, also hooded.

The leaves on the trees rustled in the wind but then there was silence except for the steady rain.

The taller figure then spoke slowly. A deep voice that was edged with menace. “You would attack a woman? What manner of animals are you?”

The boys simply stared, dumbstruck at this change in fortune. They glanced to their friend in the lake, splashing and yelling for help, then back to the newcomers.

The nearest lad overcame his fear and sneered back at them. “Think you’re hard do you? No one messes with the Bury Boys!” He clicked a knife open, the blade shining wetly in the artificial lights.

His friends regained their bravado for a moment and sniggered. One said, “Go on Steve, show them!”

Steve moved in smiling and the hooded figures separated. The other lads came at them, fists flying in wild, erratic curves. As Steve swung his flick knife the tall man blurred into motion, trapping his arm and throwing Steve over his shoulder and onto the ground with a crunch. Steve yelled and dropped the blade. He staggered to his feet but with a shove he was thrown sprawling onto the tarmac again. Two others tried to jump the man from behind but his hand darted out, faster than a snake and caught one by the throat. The lad’s eyes bulged as he was pulled off the ground, his legs spinning. As the other attempted to punch the hooded attacker, he kicked out without even looking over his shoulder. His foot caught the lad in the chest, who flew back gasping, hitting the metal fence. He span backwards over it and landed with a sopping thud in the wet earth.

Josie sat up, watching spellbound at the fight before her. Even though there were so many of the thugs, they were posing no threat to her saviours. She saw it as if in slow motion, time blurring as the two strangers punched, blocked and kicked out at the gang, effortlessly beating them back.

The smaller figure was facing three at once. He darted about on the balls of his feet, never letting himself get between them but keeping them to one side all the time. He struck out at the nearest, catching him in the head, then kicking him hard in the guts and the lad fell. The other two came to their senses and turned and ran, their trainers splashing on the wet ground. The hooded figure extended his right arm and with a click, a block of what appeared to be smooth wood and bright metal suddenly appeared from his sleeve into his open palm. As Josie watched mesmerised, the block changed shape. Warping, twisting and clicking into alignment. A tiny crossbow, merged with his gloved hand. He reached to his belt and slid a bolt into the firing groove of the weapon. Dropping to one knee he whispered a strange few words and the bolt glowed.

“No way,” he said quietly as he glared at the retreating figures. The arrow’s wicked point dripped as he paused to aim.

His partner whirled. “BUE! NO!!!”

The arm wavered; the figure cursed then lowered his aim a fraction. He triggered the weapon and the bolt sang out. As it flew it separated, with a flash of golden light, into two arrows and with an almost simultaneous thud, landed in the backsides of the two runners. They sprawled forward, screaming in pain as they rolled around.

Steve had managed to crawl towards his knife but as he turned holding it and tried to stand, the tall man simply kicked him in the hand. The knife span into the dark shadows and Steve shrieked, clutching his ruined fingers.

Josie looked around, the rain was heavy and it blurred her vision as the huge figure turned. He stood over her, green eyes glowing like fires in the depths of his hood. Gently he reached down and after a pause she took his hand. Helping her to her feet he asked, “Are you hurt Miss?”

She looked at him, then at Steve and then to the screaming lads on the ground 30 metres away, still trying to pull the arrows out. She looked further across to the lake and the lad who had been thrown there was splashing to the shore, yelling in fright and clearly having trouble.

For the first time she saw the huge sword, sheathed on the figure’s back, the hilt shaped like a kneeling woman with her hands clasped in prayer. His friend returned to them, his crossbow hidden once more.

She looked from one to the other and then slowly said, “No, I’m fine. Thank you."

The taller figure spoke again. “Come. Let us escort you to the gates.”

As they walked either side of her in silence, the rain dripping off their clothes she felt she was dreaming. She wanted to ask them who they were but couldn’t. Her voice was stuck in her throat. They were slowly scanning the area ahead and around as they walked. They passed the ornamental flower beds and she saw the fountain to her right. When they reached the gates the shorter figure spoke. “There you are young Miss, you’ll be safe now. Don’t worry about them; they won’t bother you or anyone else like that again.”

She looked at them, silhouetted in the light from the main road opposite the library and finally asked, “Who are you?”

The same one chuckled and said, “Friends. Now, please go Miss. You’ll catch a fever in this rain.”

She walked over the road to the libray. As she turned they were gone, just the entrance to Jephson Gardens standing open in the pouring rain.

As she walked away up the road the taller figure turned to the other and said, “We need to find Our Lady.”

The other chuckled and replied. “Couldn’t she have put the portal nearer to where she lives?”

Unique Practitioners Part V: Goz Gozwellings- P1

Goz Gozwellings is a Krav Maga practioner with KMM, practicing at the Solihull and King's Heath branches of the club. She also works in an all male prison.

"So how long have you been a member of Krav Maga Midlands?"

"Since a year last November."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I work in the prison service. I'm custodial manager rank, which is the equivalent of an Inspector in the English police. I line manage 25 prison guards directly and I work in the security and intelligence department so I also run the gaol on a rota basis. The prison has over 1000 category B and C prisoners, so I have to run a prison with that many people."

"Do you ever have to go hands on with the prisoners? To be in actual physical contact with them?"

"Yes, you do. We're trained in control and restraint which are techniques we have to refresh every year. The aim now is also on de-escalation techniques rather than going hands on but even putting a "hand on" as in putting a hand on someone to make them move is classed as physical contact and we have to fill out paperwork to justify it. At my rank I normally turn up at the end and oversee the incident and assess what's going on."

"Just to set the scene for those reading this, how tall are you?"

"I like to kid myself I'm 5 feet 4, but I'm really five two if I'm lucky."

"What category prisoners do you deal with?"

"We take all sorts. Some times we get uncategorised prisoners and they get cat A. That's the highest security prisoner you can get. Highest risk to the public. As a rule we're category B which is one down from maximum security. We have remand, sentenced, lifers. We have cat D who return because they fail their open conditions. We can have every type of prisoner. It's a very mixed population."

"With over 1000 prisoners, how many guards work in the prison on a shift?"

"Well, the unit I used to run holds 200 prisoners and and you'd normally work an SO, Senior Officer, and five. Quite often when I was a prison officer you'd get me on a spur which is half of a landing and there'd be me to about 60 which is quite average."

"Have you had any physical attacks or altercations with prisoners?"

"Yeah, I mean I've been lucky I've been in the job 12 years but I've been involved in control and restraint of prisoners. I've had prisoners square up to me. In my job, unlike in Krav, I try to use a lot of de-escalation. Sometimes you're on your own when the altercation occurs. So, over the years I've been involved in all sorts."

"Do you carry batons?"

"Yes we do. We carry the big extendable batons which are similar to the police. We don't have any CS or gas, or any stab vests or anything like that. Now the population has changed there's a lot of hand made weapons on the units, a lot of drug use so we're dealing with the same people that the police are outside but without the equipment. That's why we do have to rely on de-escalation. Also we work in closed spaces so if you're in a cell you wouldn't be able to use gas anyway. Pepper spray is used very rarely if the National Tactical Group are called in, if we have a situation that we can't deal with locally. I've been involved in hostage situation where three prisoners are in a cell or behind a barricade and we have had to use pava."

"Why did you take up Krav?"

"I always wanted to do a martial art but I didn't know what. For about 10 years I've been talking about it. It was originally nothing to do with the job. I'm a bit of a rough and tumble person, although contrary to belief I'm not actually a very aggressive person. I don't like fighting. So it's for my own personal fitness, my own personal protection but also it has changed the way I look at things at work now. So if I was on my own I wouldn't think twice to use Krav now rather than control and restraint because you can't do it with a group of people so it's more practical which is why I like it. In a cell no situation is the same. You've got bunk beds, you've got furniture, maybe weapons all sorts. It's all risk assessed but spontaneous stuff isn't, you just react."

"So has Krav helped you at work?"

"I'm more conscious now of people behind me when I'm on walkways for example. I move and scan more. When we did our last control and restraint refresher, which we do yearly, I realised just how much more practical Krav is. I work with a lot of female officers in a male prison. So the obvious thing is to disable a threat quickly. If I was on my own and I felt threatened I would use Krav now."

"The motto is 'So that one may walk in peace' after all"

"Yes, it's down to perception. My colleagues and even the prisoners now think I can take care of myself. It's part of it, how you carry yourself. It's about perception and someone backing off and leaving you alone."

"You have all male prisoners. How many of the staff are female?"

"There's a lot more now but it's still very male orientated. It used to be a job that people went into from the army. That's changed now, it's more about people skills. I also find that in a male prison, women tend to keep the peace better. As a rule prisoners are more respectful of females. When you're like me you can be an authority or mother figure. Some of them have never had the word 'no' said to them before and they've got no boundaries so you're having to almost parent some of the prisoners."

"That's interesting because I would have imagined it would be a lot of wolf whistling."

"You do get that as well. You get a lot of inappropriate behaviour and you have to obviously stamp that out and challenge it because if you don't you know that there'll play on that. They know that I'm not somebody who's easily intimidated."

"Do you think that Krav Maga should be taught to new people coming into the prison service?"

"Yes, I do. It's a lot more practical. Apart from control and restraint we also do breakaway and personal protection. For the staff and civilians it would be so much more practical. Even if it was just to shout "GET BACK!" with a knee or a kick. It's very practical and that's what I like about Krav."

"Why do you think this country has such a 'softly, softly' approach to use of force, both in the police and the prison service?"

"In this job there will always be staff who take it too far and they can almost be barbaric. They use excessive force when they don't need to and because of things that have happened in the past such as prisoners who've gone on to commit suicide or control and restraint that's gone wrong. I think that's why it changed. People can asphyxiate if they're in the wrong position. Every year our syllabus gets changed. There's techniques they take out because they're considered indecent. It's a fine line. Also there's a lot of paperwork now."

"Finally, what would your motto for life be?"

"Feel the fear, do it anyway. Push past it. I'm six feet tall in my head."

** Photos by Lance Manley and Krav Maga Midlands.

The Other Sort of Brave

On a Monday night I help out at a Kiddy Krav Maga club called Junior Safe Krav Maga.

As some of you will know that isn't a pint sized version of Big Krav, it is in fact a specially tailored set of activities for young children.

We focus on anti-abduction techniques, team work, anti-bullying and overall me and the instructor Russell doing our best to get the kids to go into full attack mode, if we pick them up or grab them.

At the end of the class (which lasts about 50 minutes) we line them up kneeling on the mat facing us and we choose two children who have shown the most enthusiasm, team spirit, courage and determination. Russ chooses one and I choose the other, and we have a quick chat to make sure we're not picking the same kid and to go over the reasons for the selection. They get the coveted places next to us, (one by him, one by me) and we tell them and the other kids what they did to deserve that "honour". We then bow and shout "Kida!" and hit the mat with our fists and everyone claps before we go home.

Last week we had a handful of new kids starting. One lad was about 6 years old and very small. He was clearly having the time of his life, running around and grinning from ear to ear. During a game where me and Russ try to pick the kids up they have to lay into us as hard as they can or we won't put them down again. This lad had no fear of two tall men in sparring helmets and MMA mitts trying to repeatedly grab him and was laughing and smiling the whole way through.

He got a position at the end of class. I chose him and specifically stated that it was because he was so brave and gung ho and that, on his first lesson, he was super confident and I admired his courage.

Russell's selection was someone I had been going to choose myself. She was the other sort of brave. A very small 5 year old girl who had, for a few weeks, sat on the sides with her mum and watched the other children running around, dodging me and Russell. She was clearly scared and overawed by it all and her eyes were like saucers as she saw us hurling foam pads around, putting kids over our shoulders and making a lot of noise. Attempts to coax her into joining in were met with a mute shake of her head and when she did eventually join in an activity she quickly left again in tears. It was too much for her. All these big people making a lot of racket and knocking each other around. She was smaller than the smallest kid in the class (who also happened to be her friend) and it was very clear just how frightened she was.

This week she joined in and stayed for nearly all of the class. At the end we played a game where the kids were in two teams and had to run past me and Russell, and if stopped had to lash out with kicks and punches to make us let go. Both of us were padded up with the helmets on and this little girl was on the team I was facing. I could see the terror in her face that meant she probably wouldn't do it so suggested that her friend ran with her. This proved to be the key to it all, as she then felt safe enough to join in with both of them booting me in the groin and punching me as I tried to hold her.

She got the 2nd place next to Russell at the end before the final Kida, because as Russell said to everyone, she was scared yet carried on. The other sort of brave.

After the class I spoke to her in the corridor and she still looked a bit overawed. I crouched down in front of her and said, "I'm very proud of you. It's very difficult to be brave when you're frightened and you did that. Give me a high five."

She did, and smiled and then her mother asked me how she could stop a bigger girl at school who was pulling her hair in the playground. Me and Russ demonstrated the technique and when I got her to do it she punched me as hard as she could. We all laughed and noted that the next time that older girl bullies her, will probably be the last one.

It's things like this that make doing this completely worthwhile.