Continued...

Fat Ben never stood a chance. Once Moses was on the floor, Darren turned, saw the fat boy make his move. Except he had a fuckin’ cat on him that scratched the shit out of his cock before it jumped to the floor. Gave Darren plenty of time to plant the claw hammer in the side of Fat Ben’s head.

Ben took a moment to himself before he slumped back onto the chair, his arse bouncing once against the cushion. Then he slid to the floor, propped up with blood scooshing hard out his temple, his eyes rolled back in his skull.

Julie’s not feeling good. She went pale at the look on Fat Ben’s face. Now the blood’s slowed, she looks like she’s going to spew. And Darren’s fucked off because he didn’t mean to hit him so hard, but he didn’t have a fuckin’ choice. This hammer he’s got in his hand, it’s too lethal to wound.

Look at Moses right now. He’s pulled himself out of the dark, spluttering bloodied teeth and ripped up gum tissue onto the carpet.

“Moses,” says Darren.

Moses is on his belly, trying to pull himself up the hall.

“Julie, get in the kitchen.”

“Eh?”

“In the fuckin’ kitchen. Now.”

  Away from the blood, he’s thinking. Because he doesn’t need her seeing all this shite. It was supposed to be a lot easier than this, except he went and shot his fuckin’ load too quick. His heart racing. Doesn’t know if it’s panic or excitement.

  “For me, love,” he says, but that last word sticks in a dry throat.

Julie sniffs behind him and Darren knows she’s crying.

It’s too much for her. Beyond thinking for herself, she’s spattered with someone’s blood, she’ll do what she’s told until Darren can find them a way out of this.

He follows Moses as the ginger lad crawls slowly up the hall. Watching the back of the dealer’s head, Darren’s shaking.

Anger?

They say it’s a choice at the start. Doesn’t stay a choice for very long. But he’s daft if he thinks it’s all been bad. He met Julie through the smack. And they had good times, not just on that but on the methadone too. They mixed and matched and aye, there was the odd walkabout they had to do because one of them dropped too far into the dark, but that was just life. That was the shit you had to deal with when you had a serious habit.

As much as it’s tempting, he can’t blame the dealer for the drug. Not when Darren’s really after the cash and whatever else Moses is holding.

So it’s not anger causing the shakes.

“Moses,” he says.

There’s a shower of blood and spittle from the open wound that used to be Moses’ mouth.

“Moses, you tell us where the fuckin’ money is, I’ll let you out of this.”

Moses says, “Uggingoof.”

“You what?”

Moses rolls over onto his back, his face all scrunched up and he says it again: “Uggingoof.”

Darren leans over with the hammer, grabs Moses by the shirt. Realises he’s getting blood all over himself – fuckin’ evidence, man – and drops Moses back to the floor. Moses lands with a grunt and a thick gurgling sob shakes out of his throat.

  Darren wipes his mouth. Tastes metal.

Still that fuckin’ sound. Like a huck-huck-huck coming from Moses.

Darren blinks.

Reckons he’ll find what he wants easy enough without this noise doing his head in.

* * * *

Julie won’t look at him as they’re walking back to the bus stop.

“It was a bad idea,” says Darren.

She doesn’t answer. She’s looking at the ground.

Darren says it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t believe it. A bag full of cash and resin is a decent haul. It won’t come back to them, either. Only one gadgie out there likely to get the nod on this one, and that’s Goose.

Goose was out in town, he saw Moses, he put the shits up him. That was Moses taken care of, right? Scared out of his mind, it doesn’t cost you any fuckin’ prison time if you’re just scaring people. Goose isn’t daft.

And neither’s Darren. Like he said before.

Moses saying, “Fuckin’ Goose.”

Aye, Goose is just as bad as anyone else. The word goes round that he’s killed Moses and Fat Ben, that’ll just add to his fuckin’ myth. Any evidence ties to Goose, the police might have something to say about it.

But that’s all wishful thinking. Darren doesn’t really know what’s going to happen.

And Julie. She’s not handled this as well as she promised.

Course, braying Moses into a pulp wasn’t part of the deal. But at least Darren moved the twitching bastard into the bedroom after he did it.

  He looks at Julie now and she’s pinch-faced. He wants to tell her what an ungrateful bitch she’s being, that he kept his promise, that this is it, they’re on their way out of the life.

  But that’s bullshit, and he knows it. He’s not on his way out of anything.

  She might be, though.

Darren stops walking when they reach the bus stop. The Lidl bag skates towards them as the bus rounds the corner. Darren bends over and grabs the bag, fills it with the money he took from Moses’ wardrobe stash. He hands the carrier to Julie. She doesn’t say anything. The bus comes to a halt. The doors hiss.

Darren nods at the open doors. Julie gets on. He watches her find a seat towards the front.

She doesn’t look back at him as the bus pulls away.

  Fuck it, there’s still a part of him that thought she would.

Darren feels the weight of the resin brick as he pulls his coat shut, buttoning it up against the wind. Then he watches the bus turn at the top of the road, humming to himself.

Giving Julie some exit music.

© Ray Banks 2007 All Rights Reserved