Crash II: Highrise Hell (15 page)

George watched the hammer in his hand.
Any minute now
. But then he slipped it into his back pocket.
What the fuck
?
 

Clapping his hands, the loud slap ringing out, Dean then rubbed them together. "Freddie, how ya doing, son?"

The boy stood shivering in the cold.
 

Grinning, Dean put an arm around his captive. "Okay, Freddie, why are you here?"

The shake got worse. "I ... I tried to rob you."

The tower block walls threw Dean's loud laugh back at him. "Jesus, Freddie, you're like a pneumatic fucking drill. Stop shivering, will ya? Seriously though, I appreciate your honesty. You ain't trying to mug me off by spinning me a yarn. I can work with honesty." Tilting his head to the side, he stared at the boy. "And did you take anything worth stealing?"

"No. I got more from you when you gave me the Snickers yesterday."

It looked as rehearsed as a street scam. Dean pulls Freddie from the audience, they claim to have never met and then Freddie tests his wonder product and tells everyone just how amazing it is.
 

Pulling away from the boy, Dean patted him on the back. "See, you're better off being with me than against me. I look after my people, don't I, boys?"

There was a weak chorus of calls that George played no part in.
 

When the boy looked at Ravi, Dean laughed. "It has to go both ways though." Grinding his jaw, Dean pointed at the Indian boy. "He's a cunt. That's why his card's marked. Are you a cunt, Freddie?"
 

Shaking his head, Freddie continued shivering and continued to stare at Ravi.
 

Hugging himself for warmth, George looked from the boy to Ravi and back again. He then glanced at Dean.
If only he knew
.
 

"I'm not sure if you realize it, but you've won the star prize by being caught, sunshine." Fishing his hammer from his back pocket, Dean waved it around as he spoke. "You've fallen in with the strongest gang in London." Pointing the hammer at Freddie, his smile fell from his face. "I should kill you."
 

Closing his eyes, George's stomach tensed. He didn't need to see any more violence. Then he heard Dean's lowered voice, "And I've been thinking about it all night. But I've decided to take you in. We need new blood in the gang."

Opening one eye, George saw Dean wink at his newest recruit. "We'll set you straight."

As Freddie stared on, his face hung loose.
 

Using his fingers to count, Dean said, "We have food, shelter, water, and women."

The smile was forced, but Freddie's shoulders relaxed slightly.
 

Dropping his voice, Dean spoke so only the men could hear, making a point to keep glancing at the caged women. "And you can do anything you want with them."
 

George looked at Liz.
 

Holding his hands out, Dean said, "So, how about it?"

Freddie didn't respond.

"Come on, son. Do you want in or out?" Leaning close to the boy, Dean's face dropped. "Out means D-E-A-D, by the way. Do you need me to tell you what that spells?"

Speaking in a febrile voice, Freddie said, "I'm in." After shaking Dean's hand, Freddie glared at Ravi.
 

Ravi looked at the floor.
 

Drawing him close again with an arm around his shoulder, Dean's slim frame swamped the skinny lad. "Gents, this is Freddie. Freddie's been a very silly boy. But he's ready to change, aren't you, Freddie?"

When the boy nodded, his eyes were filled with tears.
 

The kid must have realized he'd just signed a deal with the devil.
 

As he walked up and down the line of men again, this time with Freddie in his armpit, Dean said, "We're going looting today, lads."

Most of the men bristled.
 

"I've found a huge house, and I know there's someone there. They seem to have a lot worth taking, and the man's a fat waste of space." After spitting on the floor, Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Candy from a baby, boys." He pointed at their vehicles. "Usual teams in the trucks, apart from Freddie. You're in the cab with me, sunshine." Pointing at the two men, Dean said "Ginge, Jason, You're staying here. We need to keep this place guarded at all times." Dean then walked over to his truck.
 

Watching Ginge deflate, George nearly offered to take his place. Then he looked at his pickup. There was no way he was letting someone else drive it.
 

Walking over to his vehicle, Liz watching him the entire way, George got in and started the engine.
 

The door opened a couple of seconds later, and Ravi slipped in. The waft of his aftershave was as potent as ever.
 

Scratching his head, Ravi looked at his feet. "Thanks for saving me."
 

Watching the other two trucks move off first, George swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "I did it for your parents."

It's Good to Talk

Staring at Liz in the truck in front of them, her dirty, exhausted face pressed against the bars, George gripped the wheel. Holding it until it hurt, he then eased off, waiting for the pain in his knuckles to subside before he squeezed it again.

Although he couldn't see the layer of grime on his hands, he could feel it against his skin like tight-fitting gloves. The slightest trace of blood still nested around his fingernails.
 

After a deep inhalation of the aftershave-tainted air, he looked at Ravi. "Mike Osbourne was a kid at our school. Fat kid, glasses, bit of a nerd. No one liked him."

The pause lasted for a few seconds before Ravi turned to look at George. "Riiiiiiight."

"He was a horrible little cunt. The kind that sat in the front row and kissed the teacher's arse. It made him an obvious target for bullies. He'd rat anyone out for anything if it could gain him favor with the teacher."

There was no reply.
 

"Anyway, he would get robbed every morning before school. Without fail. It happened so frequently, he brought a decoy wallet in one day. Handing it over, he kept his real one. It worked, but the only problem was how smug he was about it. He proper mugged the kids off to everyone at school. Told anyone who would listen how he got one over on the bullies. The next time he got stopped, they stole his bag as well as his wallet. His school books ended up in the canal."

"The guy sounds like a loser."

"He was. A proper cunt. I never bullied him though. I mean, look at me. Even if the kid was my size, which he wasn't, he wasn't a fighter. Every time someone punched him, he pissed himself."

"Someone like that should have been home-schooled."

"To make things worse, the fat little prick loved Elvis too. Now I know I'm a bit older than you, but Elvis hasn't been cool for a loooooong time."

"So what's your point, George?"

George held a finger up. "I'm getting to that. So, one day, after several years of handing his lunch money over every time he came to school, the fat and obnoxious little prick decided to do something about the bullying. Fuck!"
 

Adrenaline kicked in, and George twisted the wheel, copying Si's abrupt movement in front on him. The food in the back slid from one side of the cage to the other with a loud clang. Looking in his rear view mirror, he snarled. "That was a fucking dog. It was dead." Squinting to see better, he then swallowed the foul taste that rose in his mouth and took a deep breath. "I think it had been cooked." Looking at the women in front, he thought about the barbecued leg in with them.
 

"Speaking of dogs," Ravi said. "Why did Dean leave our dogs at the close last week when we left?"

"Apparently they were too expensive to feed and weren't worth the hassle. He also didn't want to pick up their shit anymore."

"With the world in the state that it's in, you'd think he wouldn't give a fuck about some dog shit on the pavements."

"Are you serious, boy?" Shaking his head, George screwed his face up against the memory of bleach that was permanently burned into his sinuses. "Have you smelt the hallway? The man's a clean freak."

"True. So, Mike. You said he decided to do something about what was happening to him."

"Oh, yeah. So our school had a rivalry with the neighboring school."

"As most do."

"Right. Mike thought he could pay some of the boys at the other school to sort his problems out. One of his cousins went there, so he had a connection. I heard he paid them a good couple of hundred quid."

While doing his hair in the mirror inlaid in the sun visor, Ravi then started stroking his eyebrows into shape. "So he tried to set up a fight between the schools? That's what kids in rival schools talk about doing all the time, isn't it?"

"Exactly. He was fed up with the current regime that he was living under, so he thought he'd try to do something about it. Change his situation and maybe his social standing. The thing was, some of us, although we may not have necessarily looked out for him, stopped the bullying when we saw it happening most of the time. We were nearly on his side, yet he was setting up something that fucked us all over. I understand he was tired of the bullying and not being able to eat each day, but he went about it the wrong way."

"So what happened?"

"His cousin sold him out. I knew the boy, and he told me everything before it happened. Not even his cousin liked him."

"And what did you do?"

"What could I do? I knew Mike was planning to fuck a lot of people up. A lot of people that didn't deserve it. I couldn't let that happen. I didn't want to have to fight because of him no matter how sympathetic I was to his reason for doing it." Looking across at Ravi, who was now staring straight ahead again, George gripped the wheel. "I didn't think I could stop him doing what he was planning, so I had to get involved. I had to tell the top boy at school what was going to go down. I couldn't stand by and let it happen."

Ravi's gulp was audible. "And what happened to Mike?"

"Killed himself. He got badly bullied after everyone found out. Even worse than before. The poor, fat little cunt took his own life in the school toilets." Sighing, George sagged at the memory. "I found him." Pinching his throat, George said, "I remember him hanging there. Electricity flex around his neck. His fat tongue sticking out of his fat mouth. The weight of his large body pulled his chins up and made his chubby face look even fatter. It's amazing how much weight the neck can hold. At fourteen, he was easily fifteen stone."

When there was no reply, George chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment. "Sometimes I wonder whether I did the right thing in telling everyone. Should I have stood back and let it happen? Should I have had a word with Mike? Maybe let the fight kick off?"

"I think if you'd have spoken to Mike, let him know what you knew, then he would have made the sensible choice and stopped planning to fuck people over. Everyone deserves another chance, right?"

Raising an eyebrow, George resisted the urge to look at Ravi. "Yeah. Let's hope they make the right choice when they get one, eh? Do you think if I'd told Mike what I'd heard, then he would have forgotten about his crazy ideas?"

"Definitely," Ravi's reply shot back. "I'm certain he would have."
 

After a few seconds of silence, Ravi then said, "Thank you, George."

"Don't make me regret it, boy."

Ravi didn't reply.

Porcine Prisoner

As he came to a stop outside the property, George rolled the tension from his large shoulders. Butterflies sat in his stomach when he looked up at the big townhouse.
 

As if reading his mind, Ravi said, "I hope no one gets killed today."

Screwing his face up, George stared at the boy. "It's Dean we're talking about. Someone's going to die. Even if it's one of us."
 

The house was tall and white and shone against the backdrop of a decaying city. It stood in a row of similar houses, and the line of abandoned luxury cars out the front was a nod to days past. Two-seater sports cars with private number plates had very little use in the new world.
 

Ravi whistled. "Wow, I reckon it's got at least five bedrooms. Notting Hill's a nice place, bruv. I bet this one's worth at least ten mil." There was a pause. "Was worth." He sighed, "It's worth fuck all now."

The tension returned to George's shoulders. The boy never fucking shut up.

"I wonder why they haven't left. Don't they realize they're a target for every gang in town?"

"A gang like those hoodies that stormed the block earlier, you mean?"

Shrinking in his seat, Ravi shut up.
 

When Dean got out of his truck, he bounced on the balls of his feet and waited for the other gang members to hop down. The bloody hammer had turned his arm into a pendulum. Rocking from side to side, it was ready for action.
 

A slow lurch rolled through George's stomach as he watched on. What was he doing here?

As the crew gathered behind Dean, George looked across at Ravi. "You've got some making up to do, boy."

Staring back at him, Ravi's face loosened. "Huh?"

"Get the fuck out there and help them."

"But I stay in the truck with you."

Watching the boy for a moment, George then slowly shook his head. "Not anymore. That privilege has gone, sunshine."

Several breathy noises escaped Ravi's mouth, none of them turning into fully-formed words. When he looked up, George stared hard at him.
 

Dropping his eyes to his lap, Ravi sighed and then nodded. His lip buckled, but he didn't say anything.
 

When Ravi opened the door, it filled the cab with the smell of smoke. Another building burning in London.
 

Enough of the fumes entered George's space that when Ravi closed the door, the chemical bite nipped at the back of his throat, and he started to cough.