Skarzy (7 page)
Authors: Shane Jeffery
24
Detective Simmons had progressed to
the middle of the station. He was still on his cell. As Skarzy leaned over the
corner, he saw the man’s gaze was directed in the elevator’s direction. But
then something else grabbed his attention at the crime scene.
Skarzy didn’t
hesitate. Sooner or later someone was going to identify the dude as not yours
truly.
Maybe.
Skarzy didn’t
run the escalator. He walked it. Just in case someone turned, saw him running,
he be done for.
The excitement
was tingling as brushed on past the floor. It was deserted. But the relief
would be short lived.
At the ticket
collection machine’s for platform one, two men in uniform were waiting. Cops. Skarzy
figured getting past them would be easy.
If he could
speak.
“Howdy doing
officer, Detective Simmons is letting us go now, so on I go!”
“Cheerio then.
On you go, Skarzy.”
How was he
going to signal this? Motion that he needed a pen and paper? Touch his mouth
and shake his head? Open wide to show the tongue?
His heart was
pounding.
But the men
barely acknowledged him. They just nodded him through.
Skarzy let go
an audible sigh once he was halfway across the terminal. Mingling with others.
Merging into the crowd.
Of course,
he figured.
They’ve
caught the perp. Their guards ain’t up.
“HOLD IT!!!”
Detective
Simmons had followed him.
“ON YOUR KNEES
SCAZZY!!!”
Scazzy? Who’s
Scazzy?
Skarzy
thought.
Oh shit.
That’s me.
Skarzy didn’t
get on his knees though.
As he said
earlier, he wanted to live.
So without
looking back, he ran.
He ran all the
way up the terminal until he reached the tunnel.
And from there
he disappeared into the City Main Street.
He heard not
one shot fired.
25
Outside, the rain came down thick and
heavy. After fifteen minutes of jogging, he was pretty sure he’d lost the
coppers. He stopped on the corner of a bridge over the Yarra River and looked
back – his jacket, jeans and hair, saturated. The rain had created an almost
fog like shadow over the city.
Anyhow, Skarzy
wasn’t worried about being saturated. He felt safe he’d lost them, so he turned
his gaze ahead to behold … Crown Casino. He looked at Serious’ card again.
Wondered how much money was on it. How much he could win.
Once Skarzy
had the money, then he could stop the worrying.
He knew in the
end, he would be caught, so really all that mattered was clearing up this loose
end. And then he could get down to business.
Business…
There was a
payphone standing between him on the edge of the bridge. Skarzy opened Serious’
wallet and put in a couple of dollars. He dialed his number.
It rang.
“Hello…?”
Skarzy stood
there resting the phone on his shoulder. He waited to hear it again.
“Hello…?”
Yes. There it
was.
Vostle.
“
Hhherrrfff…
”
It was the best he could do.
The other end
was silent for a while.
“Skarzy?”
“Herff.”
“Still can’t
talk, hey?”
Skarzy didn’t
respond.
“I’m sorry
about what went down tonight,”
Vostle said.
“Herrfee?”
“Lucy…? Man, I
don’t know. We were just chilling here for a couple of hours. She went out the
back. Took a bath. Slit her wrists. She’s in Intensive Care now. But we don’t
know if she’ll make it. It’s just a shock. Whatever.”
He waited,
perhaps not for Skarzy to acknowledge this, but for his own thoughts to settle.
“The world is
your oyster, Skarzy. And it’s one big oyster. Take care.”
Skarzy stood
silent by the phone for almost fifteen seconds before Vostle said his parting
words.
“I’m going to bed.”
Skarzy
replaced the phone on the hook.
He was free.
The realization almost held some grief for him.
It was late
tonight, but the night was not over.
The cars were
still passing him on the bridge in groups of three and four at a time.
So many people
out there.
So many places
to go.
And he had
something to show the world.
A message to
deliver.
Skarzy walked
along the bridge, the thoughts bubbling in his mind.
He could see
them all. Vostle, Lucy, his parents, his sister.
The
Currymuncher, the old man, Thomas, Serious.
Bridget,
Debbie, Susan, Joanne.
Rodney, Gira,
Mackulay, Becky.
Charlie and
his wife.
Detective
Simmons.
There might
have been fifty people Skarzy passed as he headed on around the Casino Complex.
And he passed them all.
EPILOGUE
There was a petrol station not too far
north of the Casino. A little out of the way. Middle of the line. Might have
been three am when Skarzy got there.
Bing, Boom.
The sliding
doors said hello.
Out from the
back the attendant approached. Skarzy made immediate eye contact with her. He
saw she was a currymuncher.
Skarzy saw a
poster hanging behind her head. It read HELP WANTED. Skarzy thought it
credible. Staff must be low if they were in habit of posting females so late at
night. He turned down the aisle with this in mind.
Skarzy paused
in front of the stationery. Glanced in her direction. She was watching him, but
she was not scared. And why should she be? There was nothing on his persons
that appeared threatening. He carried nothing in his hand. No foul expression
on his face. He was after all, just an anonymous man.
Skarzy took
the pad and pen off the wall and marched up to the girl.
My name is
Glen. My name is Terrence. My name is Gary. My name is Phil. My name is Brian.
My name is Friend.
“Four dollars
twenty,” she murmured, and now Skarzy could see she was suspicious.
He could see
the fear that was in her eye.
Skarzy wrote
something down on the paper.
And then he
beckoned her forward.
I’d like to
apply for the job advertised.
He watched the
clock on the back wall while she read it.
The clock said
it was ten to three.
And the clocks
never lie.
A NOTE FROM
THE AUTHOR
Hey guys and girls – Shane Jeffery
here. Did you like Skarzy? Mixed feelings? I can’t tell you how much I’d be
grateful for positive reviews and word of mouth on Amazon, Goodreads and
whatever other blogs you participate in.
Skarzy was written directly before The
Park, at a time where I was extremely frustrated with my writing, and unable to
produce anything I thought was good. Scrapyard, which came before Skarzy, had
been a very difficult story to write, and suffered from multiple rewrites of
the ending, to which I was never completely satisfied. While I believed Scrapyard
to be my best story at the time, I wanted to create something bigger, more in
depth, and appealing to a wider audience. Unfortunately I got stuck with
abandoning idea after idea for several months, until I just said hell with it –
I’m going to finish the next damn story I write no matter what.
That story ended up being Skarzy.
I was convinced at that time it was
terrible, and didn’t want anyone to read it, but reading it now I think it has
some merit.
It makes me wonder – who the hell was
Skarzy, and why did he rock up in my world at that particular time? An
immature, self obsessed racist, whom represents a very average portion of
humanity, but still, he is his own superhero.
Thanks for reading.
If you have
any questions or something you wish to discuss, please feel free to write to me
at
You can also visit my blog ‘Common
Sense Is Underrated’
http://shaneajeffery.blogspot.com.au/
And add me as a friend on facebook
https://www.facebook.com/shane.jeffery.35
ALSO BY SHANE
JEFFERY
Book One of the electrifying horror series
"The Park Chronicles"
In Shane Jeffery's debut novel, a group of
boys are abducted by a terrifying pedophile cult in the early nineties.
The Park follows each of their rites of passage, as the boys grow up to
become teenagers, and then men, forever haunted by the memory of where
this all happened - "The Park".
This is an extremely dark and gruesome tale, but reads with the
utmost clarity and insight as we watch how human beings evolve. As much as it
is an incredibly plot driven narrative, full of suspense, thrills and surprises,
The Park takes on every small detail, and puts the pieces back together in the
shape of a person.
Reader discretion is advised, as this is a truly provocative subject
matter, and its execution is both ferocious and full of despair.
Book Two
of the electrifying horror series "The Park Chronicles"
The Park II jams the shock factor into
overdrive, offering some of the most grotesque and heartwrenching moments
you're likely to read. At the same time, the story descends into a deeper
melancholic state, narrated this time by Gnashie's best friend, Frederick
Terra.
Seventeen years after his abduction, Freddy
receives a night time telephone call that plunges him back into the world of
The Park and all its monstrous evils. After years spent trying to forget what
happened there, he must now recall every last detail, as not only are the lives
of his family at stake - but every child he has ever met.
Meet
David Brenner. He’s just number 37 standing in line at Australia’s welfare
office, Centrelink. He’s about to hand in his forms and lie about all the jobs
he’s searched for in the previous fortnight. Why is David lying? Well that’s a
question for the common everyday man. Today is January 2013 and a year from now
things will be very different for David and the world around him. Read this
book and maybe you will have a chance to save him.
BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE
A Short
Story About Dreams:
A man who is asleep and dreaming on the train,
recalls a series of past events that led up to the disappearance of his child.
This is an exploration of trauma, the abstract, grievance, and above all else,
the worlds we reside in beyond the here and now.
Scrapyard:
A Novelette
A young police detective goes undercover to
expose his corrupt supervisor, who has a record of drunken violence and
evidence tampering. But as the two of them journey into the city’s nightmarish
underworld, the lines of right and wrong begin to blur.
Vicious Playground: A School Shooting
Thriller
What starts as a simple fight between
two high school boys, quickly escalates to bloodshed and declarations of war.
With the schoolyard being watched by an unseen criminal organization, the trap
is set for total chaos and mass murder.
Book Two
of Shane Jeffery's gripping trilogy VICIOUS
Three weeks after the school shooting that
rocked the nation, Inspector Ross Kelly is in hot pursuit of a suspect who may
know something about the murders. Cut to the Inspector's sudden suicide, and
his drunken cop friend trying to put back the pieces of this jigsaw from hell.
Bloodshed, massacres, and villainous masterminds take their battle to the city
streets in a bid for hysterical glee.
