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how to make money as a fitness blogger

datatime: 2022-12-01 01:52:32 Author:SYGiKlsZ

'What d'you want?' Brian Newman shouted, and dodged back as another stone came whizzing into the room.

'Come on out or we'll burn the bloody place down' 'Who are they?' Susan was trembling. 'Yobs. I'll bet the oldest one amongst 'em isn't more than twenty. They're just looking for trouble, and dangerous. If the football season had started maybe they wouldn't be here.' 'What are we going to do?'

Three of them had hold of Susan, and were dragging her screaming out into the hall.

His reply was greeted with guffaws, and more of the youths began crowding into the tiny front garden. One of them bad an axe, and he heard the woodwork of the front

Her attempts to raise his spirits were interrupted by a crashing and splintering of glass. A heavy object thudded on to the carpet and bounced against the fireplace. It was a jagged half-brick. The curtains blew inwards as the warm breeze of a hot summer's night wafted through the smashed pane.

Newman peered out again. The houses around were in darkness. Only a single streetlamp lit up the bizarre scene. The residents were obviously not going to tangle with the youths. He wondered if anybody was phoning the police.

His reply was greeted with guffaws, and more of the youths began crowding into the tiny front garden. One of them bad an axe, and he heard the woodwork of the front

There was a splintering crack from out in the hall, and he knew that the front door had yielded. >Susan screamed and came running back into the room, slamming the frail door behind her. There was no way of locking it-not that it would have been any use. Newman pulled her to him, determined to shield her from the mob. Flames were now leaping from the curtains on to the pine wall coverings, and choking black smoke filled the room.

'If you're not out in ten seconds,' a tall, well-built youth in a black leather jacket and jeans yelled, 'we're smashin' the door down and comin' in'

Youths crowded into the room, young faces twisted into expressions of hate and fear. Several of them had knives. The big fellow, the one who had done most of the threatening and shouting, pushed his way to the front and grabbed Newman by the front of his pullover.

'What the hell' Professor Newman was on his feet immediately. A hail of stones crashed into the small living-room, smashing the remaining panes of glass in the window, their force retarded by the obstructing flapping curtains.

Fists were pummelling him the whole time. His eyes were smarting from the smoke, and only the coolness of the night air on his face told him that they were outside. He was flung to the pavement. Boots thudded into his body, and he groaned aloud. It felt as though a rib was broken, but his main concern was for Susan. He looked up, trying to see her through a forest of legs. Then he heard her scream, 'Let go of me '

'Did you get through?' Newman gave way to a fit of coughing.

Youths crowded into the room, young faces twisted into expressions of hate and fear. Several of them had knives. The big fellow, the one who had done most of the threatening and shouting, pushed his way to the front and grabbed Newman by the front of his pullover.

'Shut your trap' The other struck the professor across the face with the back of his free hand, and Newman tasted blood in his mouth as he staggered back.

Then let's just pray they get here in time.'

'Come on out, Newman' Someone was hammering and kicking on the front door. 'What's going on?' Susan breathed. Newman pushed her behind him and moved to the window, parting one of the curtains slightly so that he could see outside. The scene which met his eyes caused him to catch his breath.

'Dial 999,' he said pushing Susan gently away. 'I'll try and keep 'em talking in the meantime.'

'Did you get through?' Newman gave way to a fit of coughing.

Newman peered out again. The houses around were in darkness. Only a single streetlamp lit up the bizarre scene. The residents were obviously not going to tangle with the youths. He wondered if anybody was phoning the police.

'Come on out, Newman' Someone was hammering and kicking on the front door. 'What's going on?' Susan breathed. Newman pushed her behind him and moved to the window, parting one of the curtains slightly so that he could see outside. The scene which met his eyes caused him to catch his breath.

Newman peered out again. The houses around were in darkness. Only a single streetlamp lit up the bizarre scene. The residents were obviously not going to tangle with the youths. He wondered if anybody was phoning the police.

'Come on out or we'll burn the bloody place down' 'Who are they?' Susan was trembling. 'Yobs. I'll bet the oldest one amongst 'em isn't more than twenty. They're just looking for trouble, and dangerous. If the football season had started maybe they wouldn't be here.' 'What are we going to do?'

'Yes.' She wiped her smarting eyes. 'Gave them the address...'

door begin to splinter. Susan was talking on the phone. Time was running out. Why didn't some of the locals do something? Or were they in sympathy with these louts who sought revenge on the man who was responsible for the terrible mutated virus?

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