Devil You Know (5 page)

We kept running through alleys and underpasses, leaping from walls, seeing how high we could jump, still talking about the chase. We were all totally hyper.

We stumbled across a long line of cars parked outside some houses. All expensive-looking Mercs and BMWs and even a red Porsche. “Look at all these cars,” Baz said. “Bet some of them are unlocked.”

Gary agreed. “My dad says people always leave cars unlocked. You wouldn’t believe how many.”

Baz turned to him and laughed. “That how he gets all his cheap stuff, Gary, eh? Nicks it out of unlocked cars, does he?”

Gary’s smile disappeared in an instant. He would have flown at Baz, but Mickey held him back. “Hey, that’s a bit much, pal,” he said to Baz.

Baz knew he had said the wrong thing. He held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry, I open my big mouth and my foot flies right in.”

He grinned at Gary, and finally Gary grinned back. I was so glad that, for once, Baz had apologised. This wonderful mood we had was too good to lose.

Mickey took a step closer to the Porsche. “Hey look at the trim in this one. It’s real class.” Claude came up beside him, and leaned against the car. All hell broke loose: the alarm began to sound, ricocheting around the street. Suddenly, a window was flung open, someone shouted, “What do you think you’re playing at!”

And then a front door was pulled wide. A man came running out. Then another, then three. Hard men, and they were angry.

Gary held up his hands. “We were just looking!” he yelled.

“I’m not waiting to explain,” Claude said.

Baz was off first. “Let’s go!” he shouted. And we were right behind him.

And yet we were still laughing as we ran. It only added to our mood. We almost flew round corners, up flights of stairs, raced across streets, threw ourselves over walls, as if they were still on our tail, though they had given up the chase long ago.

So many areas here were just waste ground, with weeds springing up through cracks in the old pavements. Buildings demolished, waiting for new houses to be built in their place. There was not a soul to be seen. We were maybe only fifteen minutes from home, yet it was so deserted and silent, it felt like a million miles. It felt like another world. We were heading towards blocks that were still standing, but they all looked derelict and empty. The night was growing darker, heavy clouds covered the setting sun, the wind whipped up litter and leaves.

“Let’s get out of here,” Claude said. “This place is creepy. You could make a great horror movie here.” He screwed his face up, trying to look scary. “You know – something coming out of these empty buildings, or something inside them… watching us…”

“Is that your horror face, Claude?” Baz shouted. “Wouldn’t have known the difference.”

Claude began running backwards, arms outstretched, face in horror mode, roaring at us.

He was so busy pretending to be some kind of monster that he back-stepped round a corner and fell over someone crouched on the ground. The guy fell back, so did Claude, and we were all running so fast behind him that we tumbled on top of both of them.

Claude jumped to his feet. “Sorry Mr—”

The guy lay back on the ground, looked up at us and grinned. One of his front teeth was missing and he had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. “Just come at the right time, boys. Need a hand here.” He scrambled to his
feet. “I’m trying to lift this.” It was a roller-shutter door into what looked like an empty warehouse. “I think it’s stuck.”

Baz was the first one to step forward to help. He crouched beside the guy and tried to lift the door. It was still stuck.

Baz turned to us, puzzled, with a ‘What are you just standing there for?’ look on his face. “Come on boys, is nobody gonny help here?”

I glanced around. The street was deserted. There was a long line of boarded-up shops and premises on this block, some with derelict flats above them. Why was this guy going into this warehouse? It looked abandoned. And I decided he must work here, or he owns it. That’s what I genuinely thought. Yet another voice was warning me to stay back. The guy’s a junkie. You could tell by the greyness of his skin, and the black circles under his eyes.

“Come on then!” Baz said again.

I think it was the mood we were in. We’d tricked the Young Bow and now we were up for anything, wanting more. We all crouched down beside him and began hauling at the shutter door.

The guy grinned at us again, and I thought those oh-so-blue eyes of his had a coldness in them. With that tooth missing he reminded me of Long John Silver, you know that pirate out of
Treasure Island
? Kneeling there on the ground with this vacant smile on his face that didn’t seem like a smile at all. What he said next made him sound even more like a pirate. “If you help me get in you can take a share in the loot.”

The loot? What did he mean,
the loot
?

Gary got to his feet. He was shaking his head. “I know this guy. Al Butler,” he whispered. “Bad news.”

I stood up too, and looked all around, sure someone must be spying on us. But this one block seemed to be out of sight of everything. The sky was heavy and dark. The wind whipped past us again. It gave me a funny feeling.
We’re not doing anything wrong
, I told myself, yet even at the time I remember thinking:
If we’re doing nothing wrong, why do I feel guilty
?

We all helped in the end, even Gary, and we hauled and dragged at the edge of the steel till it bit into my fingers.

“Right, after three. Everybody pull together,” this Al Butler said, and with one supreme effort we pulled. At last I could feel the steel rising, an inch at a time, until it suddenly flew from our hands and rolled to the top with a metallic clang. The noise made us all jump and look around, sure someone must have heard it. But no one came. There was no one to hear any sound.

Al Butler stepped inside the darkness of the warehouse and beckoned us to follow. None of us did. He swung round, spread out his arms, as if he was opening Ali Baba’s treasure cave. I was almost waiting for him to say ‘Abracadabra’. Instead he said, “Come on boys. One good turn deserves another.” He took another step further inside and it was as if the gloom swallowed him up.

“I think we should just go,” Gary said. But he didn’t move.

“We could just go in for a look,” Baz said, and I could see he really wanted to know what was inside. I did too.

“The place is derelict, what would be the harm in looking?” I didn’t want to go against Baz, but I didn’t want to annoy Gary either.

“There must be something in there, if he wants in so badly,” Gary said. That just seemed to make Baz more determined.

“Oh come on. Who’s for going in, just for a minute? Double dare you!” No one answered him. “Oh well, I’m going. I’m not scared.”

“Me neither,” Mickey said, and he was the bold one who stepped in
after Al Butler. He turned back to us. “Aw come on, what’s the harm?” And then he too disappeared into the gloom. It was as if they had gone through some black hole.

“Where are they going?” I asked. “Into the Twilight Zone?”

“Mickey?” Claude called out. There was no answer. Claude took a few steps inside. He called Mickey’s name again, and still there was no answer. “Is anybody there?” he asked in a spooky voice. That made us giggle. And then out of the darkness, Mickey ran forward with a roar, his arms spread wide. Claude, taken completely by surprise, stepped back too quickly, and tumbled over a pile of boxes lying on the floor behind him.

Gary pulled at my arm. “We should just go,” he said again. “I’ve heard of this guy. He’s real trouble.”

Why didn’t we listen to him?

“Hey, we’ve had a really good night,” Baz said. “We tricked the Young Bow, Gary. I might have come up with the idea, but you were the brains behind the rest. Don’t tell me you’re scared to go inside an old derelict warehouse. You’re not, I know you’re not, Gary.” He pointed right at him. “You’re scared of nothing.”

He threw his words at him. It was a compliment, and it was a challenge too. I thought that was clever of Baz. It wouldn’t have worked if he’d called Gary a coward, if he’d said he was too afraid to go inside. But to praise him, tell him he was scared of nothing – that was smart. And it worked.

Gary stood tall. “That’s me. Your actual hero!” And with a whoop, he leapt inside, punching the air.

Me and Baz were the last ones in. Baz was usually first and I suppose I held back to go in beside him.

The warehouse was like a Tardis, it seemed so much bigger on the inside. It certainly wasn’t empty. There were rolls of carpets and rugs piled up on the floor, and aisles of carpets all around, standing upright, like soldiers at attention.

“It’s a carpet warehouse,” Mickey said, disappointed.

Baz whipped out a rug lying in a pile. He flung it open. “You could pick up a nice wee something for your mammy,” he said.

“Who does this place belong to?” I asked.

“Who cares?” Al Butler’s voice came from somewhere between the carpets. I could hear him, but I couldn’t see him.

“What do you mean?”

We must have all looked foolish then. His head popped up above a pile of rugs.

“Do you own this place?” Claude asked.

Al Butler didn’t answer him. Instead he went again to the front door. “Here, help me get the shutters doon again. Don’t want anybody spying on us.”

Now was our chance to go. Why didn’t we? But we didn’t. Baz even helped him pull the shutters down.

I expected us to be plunged into darkness, but instead some kind of emergency lighting came on, and we were all bathed in an eerie red glow. It gave everything a surreal feel, as if we were caught up in some kind of weird dream. That’s exactly how I felt. As if I was caught up in something unreal.

Mickey began walking around like a zombie, and in the dim red light he managed to look pretty scary. Claude immediately joined in. It was hard not to laugh at them. “No make-up required!” Gary said. And then it seemed we were all laughing, that nervous way, you know, when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in before, and you don’t know whether it’s funny or serious. We all began walking about like zombies then.

We hardly noticed Al Butler, though I was vaguely aware he had gone into a room at the back. It sounded as if he was pulling out drawers, throwing things on the floor, not caring if anyone heard him – and how would they? There was no one anywhere nearby.

A few moments later he came swaggering down the aisle of carpet with
a smug smile on his face. “Not bad, not bad,” he was saying. He patted his pockets: they were bulging now. “Nice wee stash here,” and he held up a wad of notes. “I always know where to look.” He had a box in his other hand. “You can’t leave empty-handed, boys. One good turn deserves another.” He threw the box at Baz. “Here!”

Baz caught it deftly. “Hey, thanks.” He actually said thanks! It was filled with Xbox games and Baz took them out and shoved them into my hands. “Stuff them in your pockets, we can sell them – come on. Who’s going to miss them?”

I looked at Gary. He was shaking his head. And I knew he was right. We should just get out of here. I wanted to drop the games from my hand, but I felt as if they were glued there.

Everything seemed to be moving out of control. I began to be really afraid, and I couldn’t think why.
Let’s get out of here
. That’s what I wanted to say. Why couldn’t I say it?

Al Butler suddenly swung round. He looked up to a corner. “Aw naw, we’ve been spotted.” He pointed, and we all followed his gaze. There was a camera in the corner, its one eye watching our every move. “Big Brother is watching you!”

Why didn’t we run then? The CCTV camera scared me. We’d been seen. I could imagine that camera capturing us all looking up, our excitement turning to fear.

“Let’s go,” I said. I’m sure I was the one who said it.

Al Butler began to shout to the cameras. “Say hello to my boys!” He turned to us then, as if we were his best friends. “Don’t worry about the cameras, boys.” He held out his arms as if we should applaud him. “Destroy the cameras, and nobody sees us. Am I right? Of course I’m right.”

“How are you going to destroy the cameras?” I asked him.

“Same way we’re going to destroy everything else.” His hands went deep into his hoodie and he brought out a yellow plastic bottle. I recognised it. It was stuff you use to light barbeques. We stood still, watching him, as he unscrewed the cap and began tipping it all over the carpets.

“What are you doing?” Claude asked. Yet we didn’t need an answer. We knew what he was about to do. Al Butler took a box of matches from his pocket and opened it. He took out a match, a long match, and struck it, and a moment later a tiny flame appeared, pure yellow gold with flecks of green. I couldn’t take my eyes from it, suspecting – knowing – what was going to happen next.

“You’re not serious?” Baz asked.

Al Butler turned those ice-blue eyes on him. “We’ve been spotted. Only way to get rid of the cameras. We’ll show them. Go up like a bonfire in here.”

We all stood there for a moment, still like statues.

“No,” I heard Gary behind me. That flame made him afraid too.

Al Butler waved the flame over the carpets, his eyes never leaving us. “It’s up to you. What do you think?”

We were all silent. Mesmerised by the flame.

Baz broke the silence. His voice was a whisper. “I double dare you.” I couldn’t believe he’d said that.

Don’t do it!
I wanted to shout. Couldn’t say a word. Al Butler wouldn’t have listened anyway. Nothing would have stopped him. He’d come here prepared for this, with his lighter fuel and his long matches. Fire had always been his intention. He dropped the match to the carpet and a moment later he lit another, then another, and they all fell like little torches. The flames flickered for just a second – they seemed to reach out tiny tongues of fire, searching around for something to taste. For a moment I thought they would die. And then in a split second they touched the fuel and it was as if they became one and a monster opened its fiery mouth. In seconds the flames spread, sending tongues of orange and red and white leaping from one carpet to another. It had been a hot summer – everything was dry, dry as dust. It would go up quickly. I knew this in the moments the fire took hold, yet I still couldn’t move. None of us could.

I had never seen a fire move so fast. Within minutes it had engulfed the whole warehouse. The carpets on the ground, the carpets in the aisle, all ablaze. It was scary and fascinating at the same time. I was expecting the sprinklers to come on, but when I looked up, there were none. Nothing was going to stop this fire. The place was enveloped in flame.

Al Butler leapt and grabbed at the camera. His fingers clutched it and he brought it down from the wall angrily. “There!” he yelled, throwing it across the floor. “Cannae see us now, pal!”

The fire was moving too fast, it seemed to be bouncing from one wall to another, searching for a way out of this enclosed space. And that’s when I remembered the shutter door. We had dragged it down, shut ourselves in. We were trapped.