Forever After (a dark and funny fantasy novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Michael shrugged off the comment and jumped down. “We’ll be fine,” he declared confidently. “Come on.”
                  Del and Adam followed apprehensively behind their friend as he strode towards the table.
                  The small man had sunk the black to equal quantities of applause and distaste. He was receiving a mixture of curses and high-fives from his friends when Michael interrupted them.
                  He stood in front of the table, waited until he had everyone’s attention and then addressed the biggest man there: a bearded man made purely of muscle and fat, with sweat patches staining his tee-shirt and tattoos colouring his bulbous arms.
                  “You guys finishing any time soon?” Michael asked him.
                  The big man looked Michael up and down derisively. He sucked in his protruding stomach -- concealed under a stretched, sweat stained tee-shirt and angled by the flaps of his sleeveless jacket -- and shifted forward, hugging the floor with his heavy boots.
                  “Fuck off kid,” he spat.
                  Inches away from the big man Michael felt like he was choking on his odour, a morbid concoction of sweat, tobacco and beer. Despite the smell he shifted forward until he could feel the moistened touch of the biker’s stomach against his own.
                  “Kid?” Michael said, smiling wryly. “Just because I’m smaller than you doesn’t make me younger.” He paused to reciprocate a curious cross-examination. “Although judging by those wrinkled biceps of yours, I probably am.”
                  There was a wave of hushed silence through the group as everyone took a sharp intake of breath.
                  Del mumbled apathetically from behind his friend, “Here we go again,” and the silence erupted into chaos.
                  The big man swung for Michael but he saw the monstrous arm working its way backwards long before it had time to connect. He ducked out of the way, feeling a rush of air dust his nose as the thick fist swept by. The big man toppled with the force of his own missed-swing, just managing to save himself from hitting the floor.
                  The youngster who had potted the black to win the game moved at Michael with a pool cue in his hand and a determined grimace on his face. He drifted around his tumbling friend and swung the cue at Michael, who threw his hands into its arcing flight to protect himself. The cue smacked his palms with a dull sucking-sound, slapping a vicious whip against the flesh. He ignored the burn in his palms, closed his hands around the thin end of the cue and yanked it out of the youngsters’ hands.
                  With the cue raised above his head he took a quick step away from the table and flashed the weapon at the others who were preparing to launch into an attack. Grinning like a madman he twirled the cue through his hand and over his head, using it like a baton in a parade.
                  “Every fucking week,” Del muttered bas he watched.
                  The big biker straightened and moved for Michael, Michael swung for him and caught him square in the jaw with the tip of the cue. The chalked end grazed the bottom of his ear before snapping against his cheekbone. Michael pulled it back for another swing as the big man recoiled, but before he could launch another attack the other men were upon him, their fists and knees jabbing away at his stomach and thighs; their hands grasping for the weapon in his hand. Del and Adam reluctantly threw themselves into the brawl to help their friend, pulling the men off him before they had a chance to do any serious damage.               The fight expanded into the rest of the room, as customers ducked and ran out of the way to avoid catching any of the wildly thrown punches