‘Mon, boys,’ A say, walkin doon towards the noise.

‘Fuckin intae them, bhoys! Time fur a skirmish!’ Danny shouts louder.

Broonie n that ir aw gem fur it. Wan ae our elder wans n a squad ae theirs. Taz’s almost at us noo, pantin like an eld dug fae runnin. A kin feel Addison shitin himself fae behind me. A kin see him in ma peripheral vision, still on the phone, but quickly sayin his goodbyes. Kenzie’s shoutin fur Addison tae git on the phone tae Big Kenzie n the troops n call in reinforcements. Big Danny is makin sure his trainers ir tied n A follow suit. Losin a trainer kin be deadly. Taz reaches us n the crowd behind him slows seein us. ‘Fuckin hell, boays … cunts jumped us … walkin up that backroad there. Backin’ us up, boays?’

Wee Kenzie struts in like the delegate in charge. ‘Aye, ma boys wull back yi up, mate! Nae sweat,’ he says lookin gem, but wae a wee nervous glance towards the cunts walkin up the hill.

Danny’s fuckin buzzin. A kin see him crackin his knuckles n rollin his shoulders. Broonie’s mad-wae-it dancin aboot on his tiptoes, swingin his arms in the air. Finnegan’s standin smilin like fuck wae his hand in his pocket. Addison’s fuckin shitin himself. They’re only a hundred feet away noo.

Taz’s caught his breath again. ‘Ah must be gittin eld, man. A dunno any yooz wee guys.’

Calm doon, Taz, mate, yir only seventeen, ya cunt, A think n don’t say. A’m fuckin buzzin anaw noo. The wine ae earlier is the drivin force. We’ve been buzzin aw night, cos ae the fireworks, the swally n the Friday Feelin. We kin see the cunts noo. There’s five ae them. A recognise a few fae school n A know two ae them. JP, Jamie Peters, who’s a year elder than us n a mad cunt, n Si O’Connor, wan ae their best fighters n a year elder anaw. His big brur, Matty, is the tap man doon there. Yi kin tell the two ae them ir the maddest. They’re powerin ahead, awready wae their arms in the air, shoutin the fuckin odds. The three others ir walkin slightly behind. A dunno them, but at least wan ae them looks aboot eighteen or suhin, a right elder wan. Taz’s confidence hus grown. He’s seen Wee Kenzie, n heard Addison phonin Big Kenzie. The rest ae the Young Team wid hear through MSN n an army ae wee thumbs tappin madly at mobile phone buttons.

‘Fuckin mone then, ya dafties, YOUNG TEAM!’ Taz shouts, walkin back doon. We aw share a wee smile n probably look chuffed as fuck. That second we aw go fuckin mental. The adrenaline gees yi that sick-making, dancin feelin in yir stomach that yi come tae love n dread simultaneously.

The five ae them ir walkin up the middle ae the road. A wine bottle comes flyin up the street n bursts in front ae us, leavin its green fangs lyin aw over the road. We’re aw walkin doon noo adjacent tae the bookies. A hear a fuckin hissin in ma ear. Finnegan sends the Sonic FX twistin n screamin doon the street at them. Taz looks like he’s gonnae lay a fuckin egg, the cunt. Finnegan’s laughin his heed aff, dancin aboot on the pavement. The rocket whines up the street towards them, hits a car windscreen and explodes mid-air, wae an almighty fuckin bang. The five ae them dive oot the way n pick themselves up fae the deck. There’s nae hesitation.