Fireproof (33 page)

She panned the gun from right to left, looking for a new, smaller target.

"I think I'm a natural, but I want to fire off another shot or two. Just for the fun of it."

She picked off a ‘no entry' sign nailed to a gate, shot a hole in a blue plastic carrier bag caught in barbed wire and destroyed a pebble sitting on top of a stone wall.

"Now I'm ready, Mike. Let's do this."

"It's not even dark yet."

"So they won't see the muzzle flash."

"Baby, you are an impressive woman."

"I know, now let's go."

***

Mike watched Cathy take the gun apart and put it back together a number of times before packing it back into its box. The brown-haired angel of death caressed the rifle with tender love. He almost felt jealous.

They took Jim's car to the apartment building site. Mike pointed to the vantage point he would use to monitor her getaway. He'd picked the roof of a factory on the other side of the camp. The position would make it unlikely that he'd see Kelly die, but it would give him a better view of Cathy, which was much more important. They agreed to regroup at the secondary school gates at the bottom of the road. The gun in its box weighed about two stone. Cathy was adamant she could carry it for the two mile walk with ease.

Mike phoned Cathy's mobile before they parted to make sure they would have no problem communicating. The batteries were fully charged and Mike had plenty of call credit. Both phones were equipped with hands-free sets and they made use of them. They were set.

"Kiss me for good luck, you big stud."

Mike planted a kiss on the lips of his amazing lady. She'd tied back her long brown hair into a practical ponytail. Her unblemished, smooth features both delicate and aquiline looked almost birdlike. A hawk, circling her prey.

"I love you, Cathy Maguire."

"I love you, Mike Rocks."

They went their separate ways. Mike's breathing matched Cathy's as it was picked up on his phone. They didn't talk. They'd agreed to only speak when a direct question needed answering or a warning was required.

At the factory, Mike hopped out of the car and used a rusted but stable fire escape to climb onto the roof. The corrugated steel sheets thunked and clunked underfoot as Mike walked to the edge closest the camp. He widened his stance when a gust of wind rocked his balance.

He had a perfect view of the apartment. Mike looked into his binoculars. Cathy was already in position.

"I can see you." Mike said.

Cathy pointed the rifle at him. "I see you too."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Relax, it's not loaded yet."

"Can you see Kelly?"

"No, but we have all the time in the world, babe. I'll let you know before I pull the trigger."

"Okay. Talk to you soon."

Cathy gave Mike the thumbs up sign and inserted the clip. He heard the satisfying clunk over the phone. Mike decided to lie on his belly to make himself less conspicuous and lessen the chance of getting blown over the edge. It didn't impede his view.

He tried to get comfortable, but the phone in his breast pocket dug into his ribs. He got back up on his knees and reached into the pocket. He held the phone while he decided which pocket would be the safest for it.

"Mike. I've been trying to phone you."

He couldn't help it. The unexpected voice made him jerk and the phone shot out of his hand. It went over the edge of the building. As Mike turned to face the owner of the voice he heard it smash below.

Cadbury and Jim were on the roof. Mike held up his hand to signal that they wait. He looked at Cathy through the binoculars. She seemed oblivious. She mustn't have heard Cadbury's voice or the phone dropping. The connection mustn't have died either. She showed no sign of a break in concentration. Mike cursed under his breath.

"Give me your phone, Cadbury. I have to call her."

Cadbury obliged without hesitation, but Mike couldn't get through. She
was
still connected to his phone, but as he looked down on its broken remains he had no idea how.

"I have to get in touch with her."

"Yes you do," Cadbury said. "Mike, you guys are making a big mistake."

"What do you mean? What are you doing here?"

"I had a vision when I was meditating, Mike. I managed to get Jim to borrow another car and pick me up straight away. If you let Cathy do this, she's going to Hell."

"Of course she's going to Hell. She's a Satanist."

"No Mike, she's not. She's just in love with you. And if she goes to Hell for this, it won't be the same place you'll end up in. She's going to get the works."

"I've been to Hell, Cadbury. It's not that bad. And I'm going to hold some sway down there, you know. I'm the fucking pope of Satanism. Nobody on Earth has as much influence on the big man down below."

"Mike, come on. He's the Prince of Darkness. He deals in lies and deception. Pain and grief are his currency. Do you really think he feels like he owes you a favour or two? Cathy will be one more soul he's snatched from the pearly gates, and you'll be able to do nothing about it. Not. One. Fucking. Thing."

Mike's palms were sweating.

"No way, Cadbury. That can't happen."

"No? Really?"

Cadbury darted forward and clasped Mike's head between his large hands. Mike's world went dull and quiet. His heart rate slowed. He felt the urge to struggle, but his body refused to obey.

Then a light flashed. His vision blurred then faded. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of rotten eggs invaded his nostrils.

Cathy's screams juddered his spine. They blanketed him. Suffocated him. Left him gasping for air in an atmosphere like damp sand. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The ground gave way beneath him.

Light flooded back into his world. His hearing returned to the present. And he looked up into Cadbury's apologetic eyes.

"Sorry, Mike. But you don't have time to lie there."

Mike clambered to his feet. He gasped huge breaths and felt all the better for it. The physical discomfort was gone, but Cathy's prophetic screams rang clear in his memory.

"I have to get to her," Mike said. "But I might be too late already. What'll I do?"

"Take my phone, Mike." Jim handed Mike his handset. "Give Cadbury your binoculars and he'll keep watch. If we aren't going to make it to Cathy's position then we'll have to get into her line of sight and warn her that way. Cadbury can keep his phone line open and tell you if it looks like Cathy's about to take aim."

"You're a genius, Jim. Let's go."

***

Where are you, Kelly?

Cathy's trigger finger actually itched.

She scanned the campsite through the telescopic lens. Children played amongst rusted bicycle frames, gutted-out cars and scrapheap vans. Mothers sat outside the caravans, shouting to the kids, knitting or drinking tea. The younger men tinkered with engines and chatted over car roofs. The older men wandered about the camp, serious, businesslike.

Kelly emerged from the second biggest caravan on the campsite. He counted a thick wad of notes on his way back to the biggest caravan. The Travellers paid him little attention as he swaggered by them, gold glinting on his wrists and fingers. It seemed he'd become a common fixture.

He tucked the cash into the back pocket of his cream trousers. Cathy trained the rifle on him. She didn't want to fire at a moving target. No matter how slowly it moved. She wanted a good, clean shot.

Kelly strode past the deckchair outside the caravan. He slipped inside.

Fuck.
Cathy thought. Then,
Patience. He's just stashing his cash somewhere safe. He'll be back out soon.

Cathy waited. She swept the rifle from side to side to keep the blood flowing in her shoulders.

Patience.

***

They ran like the Devil was on their heels, and figuratively speaking, he was. Unlike his arrangement with Cathy, Mike had Cadbury provide a constant commentary on Cathy's body language. They would have to use that as a basis for deciding whether to run all the way to the apartment block or crash the caravan site. Taking the car would have limited their manoeuvrability and held them back.

"It's still looking good, Mike," Cadbury said. "She's just sweeping the sight across the camp at the minute."

"We're halfway to the camp entrance." Mike spat the words out in clipped syllables between gasps of breath. "Let me know if her shoulders so much as tense."

"Still normal, Mike. Oh wait; she's narrowing the arc of the sweep. Shit, it looks like she's settling on something."

"I'm going into the Camp, Cadbury," Mike said. "Jim, I want you to run on to the apartment block. If the shit hits the fan I want you to explain everything to Cathy as you help her get away. She is
not
to try and rescue me if I get into trouble."

Jim didn't waste time with words. He nodded and ran on as Mike turned off at the entrance.

"Speak to me, Cadbury."

"She's pulled back the bolt, Mike. We're talking a matter of seconds here."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Mike ran past a group of young boys with shaved heads. They looked like brothers. He nodded at them as he pelted past.

"What the fuck is he doing?" he heard one of them say.

"Tell your da," another one said.

Mike could see the tricolours that marked out Kelly's caravan. He was close. Broken down motors, trailers and Travellers were a blur as he raced past them. More curse-peppered questions were yelled at him, but he barely heard them. He could see Kelly. Back in the chair they'd seen him in earlier. The old Provo looked up at the sound of Mike's staccato footsteps. His hand went to the inside pocket of his expensive jacket. A true gangster wannabe in every detail.

"Mike," Cadbury said on the phone. "Cathy's just seen me. She looks confused but I don't think she's going to shoot. Jim's just entered her building. I can't see you. Can you get out of there?" His voice was excited and hopeful.

"Ah fuck."

That told Cadbury everything he needed to know. "Mike!"

***

Cathy had the perfect shot. Kelly's head, steady and in the crosshairs.

Breathe, breathe, squeeze, but don't jerk.

Concrete dust irritated her sinuses with each steady breath. She couldn't wait to get back out into the fresh air. Away from the cold breezeblocks and untreated wood.

"I'm about to take him out, Mike."

No answer.

"Mike?"

She shifted her bead to check on him. She saw Cadbury, waving like a lunatic, in Mike's spot.

"Mike? What's going on?"

Still no answer.

Cadbury shook his head and mouthed the words, "Don't shoot."

She waved back at Cadbury, a sign that she'd understood him. Cadbury pumped the air with his fist and spoke into his mobile.

Cathy shifted her sight back to the camp.
What's going on?
She caught Kelly on the move. His hand went to his inside pocket. He pulled out a handgun and pointed it. At Mike.
Oh fuck!

She shifted the telescopic sight from Mike to Kelly.
Shoot Kelly!
Her trigger finger froze.
Shoot Kelly!
She couldn't breathe.
SHOOT KELLY!

"Cathy, Cathy, don't shoot! Do not shoot Kelly!"

Jim's voice bounced around the bare concrete walls.

"Cathy, Mike says don't shoot!"

As if she had a choice.

"Don't try to save Mike!"

Jim's trainers slapped on the stairs. It sounded like he'd almost made it to the top floor.

Cathy couldn't look away.

She saw it all.

Kelly's finger worked the trigger. His handgun bucked in his hand. Muzzle flashes
were
visible in daylight. Mike jerked like a marionette under the control of a drunken puppeteer. She jolted in time with Mike as each bullet punched through his chest.

"Oh please, God, don't let him die," she prayed. "Sweet Jesus, please."

The man known as Mike in a former life sat at the bar, a pint of Guinness in front of him, half full. It had been half full for as long as he could remember. He took another sip. Not flat but not quite fresh. The chill had gone off it, but it wasn't warm. It was just slightly better than mediocre.

A song played on the jukebox in the corner of the pub. An Eagles track; and not one of the ones you'd find on a 'best of' collection. He had no real passion for the track; it didn't make him tap his feet, nor did he pray for it to end. It just
was
. He had no recollection of the track that had played before it.

The bar was half full of people. Nobody spoke to Mike, or even looked in his direction. He felt okay with that. He had a lot to think about, but was having trouble remembering what, exactly, that might be.