‘- if you guys ever have kids,’ the other Marty was saying, ‘and one of them, when he’s eight years old, accidentally sets fire to the living-room rug - go easy on him.’
‘C’mon,’Biff said, breaking the spell. ‘Take a poke at me. chicken.’
All right. If that’s the way Biff wanted it.
As Marty took a step
forward, the fire door swung open, smack into his face.
Marty fell to the ground, stunned. He had been knocked down by the earlier version of himself who was running off to rendezvous with the other Doc for the clock tower lightning bolt. Marty blinked and realised that the Almanac had fallen out of his pocket and was laying on the ground next to him.
Biff realised it too.
'What the hell?’ Biff demanded, bending over Marty to pick up the Almanac. ‘Steal my stiff will ’ya punk?’ He grabbed the Sports Almanac from the ground.
Marty groaned in pain as Biff kicked him in the gut, one, two, three times.
'And this is for my car!’ Biff added, kicking him once more, even harder than before. The pain was like fire.
’Butthead!’ Biff called over his shoulder as he walked to his car.
Marty moaned as he clutched his stomach. No matter how much it hurt, he had to get up and follow Biff.
He managed to get to his knees. He saw Biff throw the sports book into the back seat, then get in the car and drive away.
There was no way Marty could chase Biff. Marty was having enough trouble just getting on his feet. He swayed unsteadily as he finally forced both his sneakers beneath him and slowly stood. He took a couple of careful breaths. Everything seemed to be all right. He was bruised, but nothing was broken.
He had to meet Doc! His arms hugging his sore sides, Marty headed for the metal stairs that led to the roof of the gym.
Marty was a little late. Oh, well, it gave Doc a chance to untangle all these pennants from the drive mechanism of the DeLorean. But, once he had the whole rope’s length of them all rolled up, what could he do with the roll?
He tossed the ball of pennants in the back of the DeLorean. One of these days, he would have to clean up back there.
He turned as he heard a groan behind him..
Great Scott! It was Marty. But his face was smudged, his clothing torn. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck!
Marty tried to smile at Doc as he struggled up the last few steps of the metal ladder.
Doc rushed over to help him onto the roof.
‘Marty!’ Doc asked as he helped Marty from the ladder. ’What happened?’
Marty shook his head.
‘I blew it, Doc! Biff nailed me and got the book back. He drove off with it in his car.’
Doc looked back down over the roof. He could see no sign of Biff or his old Ford convertible.
‘Which way did he go?’ he asked Marty.
Marty thought for a minute as he managed to stand on his own.
‘East.’
Doc told Marty to get in the DeLorean. They had a job to do.
Marty felt better, once he got his breath back. He’d be sore for a couple of days, but otherwise, he felt all right. Doc was flying the DeLorean east, following the main highway out of town. Now, ail Marty had to do was concentrate on sweeping the area below them with his binoculars, until he found Biff.