Bubblegum Smoothie (25 page)

Instead, I kept my eyes on the bus station entrance, as I limped further and further out of the car.

“Sir, if you’d like to walk towards me very slowly…”

I looked at this officer. Spotty. Skinny. Looked like he’d barely finished his GCSEs.

I took a deep breath in.

“I wouldn’t like,” I said.

Okay, it sounded much more heroic in my head.

But I ran anyway.

Running killed my leg, sent sharp pains all through my body, but those sharp pains were good. They meant I was making it. That I hadn’t been rugby-tackled to the concrete.

I got closer to the bus station entrance, heard commotion building behind me, the gasps of an onlooking crowd.

Then a voice. A voice through a megaphone above.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Preston. I know you’ll be keen to know why a seemingly normal middle-aged man is standing on the rooftop of your fine bus station right now—the tallest bus station in Europe—”

“Second tallest,” an old man in the crowd shouted.

“No,” Jed Chipps said. “I’m pretty sure it’s the tallest—”

“No he’s right,” a short, dark-haired woman said. “It’s the second tallest. One in Turkey got built and beat it.”

Jed whistled. “Second tallest. Holy crap. Should probably have checked my facts earlier. Anyway, where was I?”

“Something about being stood on the bus station!”

“Oh yeah. Of course. Thanks. Anyway, about that…”

He went on, rambled about his quest, as I got closer to the station. I realised the police weren’t watching me anymore. Neither were the crowd. They were all looking up at Jed Chipps, like he was some kind of messiah. Hell, he was the most interesting person in Preston in recent years, I’d give him that.

I walked a little further.

“…send out a message. A message for all the fathers wronged by the courts, wronged by nosy bastards…”

I knew I was in the bus station when the smell of piss clogged my nostrils.

A bolt of intensity jolted through my body. Or maybe it was just the stab wound twanging again. Bolt of intensity sounded more poetic, though. But I realised I was gonna have to get to the bus station roof quick.

I couldn’t let Jed Chipps jump.

I couldn’t let the bastard take his kid with him.

I ran as fast as I could to the stairway at the side of the tacky newsagents, a “closed” sign dangling from the door as the owners no doubt had gone to watch Jed’s show. I reached the stairs, ran up them, tried to dodge the empty burger cartons, the used—and unused—condoms.

Failed on all counts.

“…If I can’t have my boy, then no one can…”

I reached the final steps. In truth, I was a little disappointed that Jed Chipps turned out just some nutty daddy on a killing spree. There was something terrifying about a man willing to blow up police stations and private hospitals, all because he wanted to see his kid.

Then again, people blew things up for more dubious causes.

I turned at the top of the steps. I was out of breath, and felt a dampness spreading under the makeshift bandage.

Poor Martha. I’d buy her a new top if I ever got out of this alive.

I walked over to the rusty door, which was ajar. Pushed it open, and felt a gust of a cool summer breeze.

My chest tightened up.

Jed Chipps was a matter of metres away from me.

I took a few deep breaths then stepped onto the gravel, which crunched under my feet. Being this high up and seeing Preston’s shitty skyline made me dizzy, especially now I was getting closer to the edge.

But shit. I was up here now. I was the nutter who was walking towards Jed Chipps. Might as well get the job done.

“This is to teach you a lesson. Teach all of you a lesson.”

Blah blah blah. I stepped closer to Jed. As I did, my fists tightened, and I wondered how I was actually gonna handle this. Push Chipps over the edge? Wrestle him to the ground? No. Both of those options put Daley, who stood in front of his father, at risk.

No. I’d keep doing what I was doing.

Walking towards a ruthless mass murderer with not a shade of a clue.

My pace picked up as I got closer. I had to be careful not to make too much noise. I could see a knife in Jed’s back pocket. If I could grab that, I really could wrestle him to the ground. Hold him down until backup came.

If his throat were to be accidentally sliced in the mix-up, then boo-hoo.

I was just a few metres away now. So close that Jed’s megaphone rang in my ears, so loud it was inaudible.

I reached my hand out.

Got closer to the knife. Closer to Jed Chipps. Closer to Daley Chipps.

Closer to a million bloody pounds.

And then I felt the gravel slide under my right foot.

I heard the crunch. Much louder than any of the other crunches, as my right leg writhed with pain. But maybe it was just me. Just me being extra cautious. Just being extra aware.

He looked up from his audience.

No shame in admitting a little bit of wee came out when I saw Jed Chipps looking back at me, smile on his face.

“BLLLFFH GGGRRGHH”

I winced. “Whoa. Try again without the megaphone.”

Jed lowered the megaphone. “Right. My bad.” He cleared his throat. “Blake Dent. Fancy seeing you here.”

I straightened my back, even though I was shaking all over. “Game’s over, Chipps. No more playing the tortured daddy.”

Jed’s smile widened. He laughed. “You’re a funny one, I’ll give you that. A persistent one.”

“Just hand Daley over. We can go sit in that crappy bus station café. Talk things over.”

Jed waited a few seconds. Stared at me. Behind him, Daley looked on with wide, terrified eyes.

“I’d like that. I really would.”

I felt my pulse racing again. Organised mass murderer was buying
that
bait? Maybe he was just a sap after all.

Jed looked at his son. Tousled his hair. “Daley, you lead the way.”

And then he pressed his hand against his young son’s chest and pushed him off the edge of the bus station roof.

FORTY-FOUR

I threw myself at Jed Chipps without even thinking.

I didn’t have to think. Not as I watched Daley Chipps fall off the roof of the bus station.

Not as I watched him hover in mid-air.

Not as I watched him disappear over the edge.

I saw Jed smile as I got closer to him. Saw him close his eyes, like he was readying himself for his death.

And then something flashed in my head. Something triggered.

He wants you to push him. He wants you to kill him.

I stopped. It took all the force and willpower in the world, but I stopped. Dug my feet into the gravely ground. Bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Jed opened his eyes. His eyebrows twitched. “What is it? Not want to punish me? I just killed my son. Sent the little fucker splatting onto the ground.”

The hairs on my arms pricked up.
Keep calm. Keep in control.

“I won’t push you,” I said. “Pushing you’s the frigging easy way out for you. You deserve to suffer for—for years for what you’ve done.”

I heard sirens on the ground below, heard gasps from the crowd. Jed Chipps smiled and shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? There’s no more punishment for me. Nothing that punishes me more than being torn away from my son by those—”

“
You
tore yourself away from your son, you murdering, egotistical, violent nutbag!” I stepped closer to him. I wasn’t afraid. Not even the sight of the ground below had me riled, not anymore. “Don’t you see that? Your fucking murderous ways tore you from your son. So stop it with this bullshit ‘poor Daddy’ routine. Just stop it.”

Funny thing happened to Jed then.

His smile dropped.

He didn’t look like a man who enjoyed his pride being pissed on, or being shown up for what he really was.

“You know, maybe I won’t jump just yet.”

He pulled his knife out of his back pocket. Pointed it at me.

“Maybe I’ll have some more fun before I die.”

Before I could even process what Jed was saying, he flew at me. Flew at me with his knife, still blood-soaked from his work on his wife.

I stepped to the left. Almost tumbled onto the gravel, just managed to dodge the blade.

But now Jed was behind me. I was between him and the edge.

He smiled again.

“Now you have a choice, Blake Dent.” He stepped towards me. Whenever I tried to edge left, edge right, he blocked my way, getting closer to me.

The only way was backwards.

The only way was towards the edge.

“I’m in two minds here. Part of me wants to cut you into little pieces and throw you down in bits. But another part of me knows a police helicopter will be here soon, if those inept shits actually have one in their possession.”

“They are inept shits. I can agree with you on that.”

Jed got closer to me. Lifted his knife higher.

“Instead, I’ll just have to make do with watching you jump. Watching you splat. Not as fun, but fun enough for me.”

I stepped further back. I could feel the rough winds bashing against me, my feet so close to the edge. I could see the bus station car park now. See the police looking up at me, shouting inaudible words through a dodgy megaphone. I could see the crowd, hands over their mouths, iPhones out to record this damned stand-off.

Holy shit. I was gonna be YouTube famous. That was something.

“So go on,” Jed said. He stepped right up to me and prodded the knife into the middle of my chest. “If you can’t push me off, then jump. Only option left now, I’m afraid. Only option left.”

I gulped. Stared into Jed’s eyes. Hoped to find something behind them. Hoped to look at them in a way that unlocked something inside him—a sympathy, or a sudden understanding.

Jesus Christ. What was I? The killer-whisperer?

“It’s been a pleasure, Blake Dent. You’ve made this mission of mine a real challenge. For that, I thank you.”

I tightened my fists. Looked down, getting dizzy as I noticed the road below.

And then I saw something that almost made me frigging trip off anyway.

He was just a storey below. Clinging onto the edge of the metal panel that grew out from the indoor car park.

Blood covered his face. A bone peeked out of his right arm.

But he was alive.

Daley was alive.

I turned to look at Jed. Adrenaline pumped through my chest, tingled my tummy.

“Y’know, for such a controlled killer, I thought you might’ve been able to throw a kid better.”

Jed’s eyes narrowed. He pushed the knife further into my chest, nicking through my shirt and into my skin. “What do you—?”

“Your son. He’s still alive down there.”

Jed peered at me. I held his stare. I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t know how he’d react.

“Bullshit.”

He pressed the knife further and my heels hovered over the bus station roof edge.

“No, really!” I shouted. I waved my arms for balance. Took deep breaths of the cool breezy air. “He… Really. He’s down there. Just look.”

Jed held his ground. His eyes got even more twitchy, even more unreadable. In the distance, I heard a helicopter approaching, and I knew our time was up soon.

He stepped around me. Looked over the edge.

His eyes widened when he saw his son.

“Daley, I…” He sniffed. I saw tears drip from his eyes, fall right over the side of the bus station.

My legs went weak as underprepared jelly. “You can have another chance.” I inched away from the edge. “You… you and your son. You can try again.”

Jed sniffed up some more. “I… I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry. I—”

“We can walk away from here. All of us.” I didn’t really know what I was saying. I was just blabbering lines I’d heard at similar points in films and books. I looked up at the approaching helicopter. It was close, now. Close enough to save Daley.

“Your quest’s over, Chipps. Give it up.”

He gulped. Got down on his knees and squeezed his hands together. “You… you were supposed to be dead, you little shit. You were supposed to come with me. You were supposed to—to die with me. That’s the plan. That’s—that’s the quest.”

A weight lurched through my stomach. I had a sudden flash of the future. Jed Chipps fleeing the scene. Jed Chipps pursuing Daley Chipps until he got him, until they “died together.”

“I’ll—I’ll never give up,” Jed said, the helicopter getting closer to the bus station. Inside, I could see armed guardsmen. But Jed Chipps wasn’t stupid. He could get off this roof before they shot him. Use me as a human shield. I knew that now.

“I’ll never give up ‘til I get my son.”

I sighed. Nodded, as the helicopter lowered towards Daley Chipps, crowd of police and public looking on in awe. Best damned blockbuster they’d ever seen.

“I know,” I said. I looked around. Looked at the flat blocks in the distance, the sun beaming over the hills and giving me a damned headache.

“I’ll never, ever give up. This isn’t how it ends. This isn’t—”

“I’m afraid it is, Jed.”

I brought my foot back and I swung it into Jed’s ass as hard as I could.

And then I pushed.

I watched him scramble for the edge of the roof. Watched as he tumbled over the side, as his knife slipped out of his hands.

He looked at me as he turned. Looked at me with wide, bloodshot eyes.

He wasn’t smiling anymore.

He looked terrified.

He fell. Fell down, past the helicopter, past Daley. For a harrowing moment, I thought the metal panel of the lower storey was going to scoop him up like it had his son, but I’d given him a fair kick so that wasn’t a problem.

I watched him fall to the ground.

Stared him in his eyes as he shouted out, struggled and fought with the air.

But I looked away when he splatted against the concrete. I left that vision for the YouTube viewers to savour, for the gore-obsessed to masturbate over.

Instead, I looked at little Daley Chipps climbing into that police helicopter, broken-boned, no doubt traumatised, but safe.

I saw him twitch a smile at me before he disappeared into the helicopter, and I knew I’d done the right thing.