Acts of Violence (6 page)

Read Acts of Violence Online

Authors: Ross Harrison

‘Where wha—’

I was confident
Little Dick surmised the rest of my sentence. His fist slammed into my solar
plexus. Made me spit out the chip.

‘Could you pick that
up?’ I forced out through the pain. ‘Dry cleaners don’t work for free.’

I swung gently back
and forth. Everything looked different upside down. Over to my left…or maybe my
right – it was surprisingly hard to tell. A hundred metres or so to one side was
the skeleton of a wooden rowboat. It was the boat I’d used ten years ago. It
was this boat I’d filled with rocks to put in Lucy’s clothes. It was from this
boat that I’d kissed her cold lips one last time and slid her into the water. She’d
never learned to swim.

Little Dick glanced
at the bouncer. The sudden cold and thump on the top of my head were shocking.
The cold running in behind my face and seemingly into my brain was worse.

Like an idiot, I
breathed out. Big bubbles of air fought their way through the water and broke
free, leaving me alone in the dark. I’d never been much good at holding my
breath. Never had much call to, being a land mammal. I was already beginning to
lose the fight against my body’s instinct to breathe in.

My heart thumped against
my ribs. Harder and harder. It spread into my brain. My whole head pounded. My
throat pulsated. Swelled up. My jaw began to ache. I was unable to keep my eyes
closed. The strain of holding my breath – or lack of it – caused them to snap
open. Felt like they would pop out. My whole body was writhing without my
permission.

As sudden as the
cold, I felt a warm sucking sensation on my legs. Then my torso. Finally, my
head emerged from the pale green water.

My eyes and nose stung
from the water that ran up my nostrils, but I was surprised at how easily my
lungs were satisfied. I guessed they were used to the city air. Real oxygen was
a luxury to them. I coughed up most of the water, but I could still feel some
sitting somewhere at the top of my nose.

I was winched up
until I was at just the right height for Little Dick’s fists again. The next
time I was dunked, I’d be under for longer. They’d known I wouldn’t be prepared
for it the first time. They’d pulled me up before I drowned. But next time, I’d
know to take a deep breath. So they’d leave me under for longer.

‘I’m meant to be
out of the suit when you clean it,’ I told Little Dick. My voice sounded
strange. Like I had a peg on my nose.

He responded with a
sniff and a punch to the stomach. I saw red with white dots. The rest of the
water was ejected from my nostrils. I swung back and forth. Little Dick’s
mud-encrusted shoes got larger, then smaller. I tried to keep my eyes on his
face, though. I had to be ready for his next glance at the bouncer.

‘Where is it,
Jack?’

I was beginning to think
that perhaps I’d misjudged the situation. Little Dick might be using the time
for some payback, but that wasn’t what all this was about. Cole Webster hadn’t
broken me out of police custody just to punish me. He was serious about
whatever he thought I’d stolen. And it definitely wasn’t the girl.

‘Things might go a
little smoother,
Dick
, if someone would just tell me what
this popular “it” is.’

‘We don’t have time
for your shit. You came into our club and just happened to walk out with
that
bitch. But you try to tell us it’s just coincidence?’ Why did people like this
always do that? Did they feel like they were accepting what they thought were
lies by explaining what they were talking about.

‘I’m trying to tell
you I don’t know what the fuck you’re babbling about, you stupid little dipshit!’

There is was. The
glance.

I took a deep breath
and closed my eyes just in time. The cold wasn’t so shocking this time. The
thump of the water on my head still hurt my neck though.

I didn’t have long.
They’d pull me up again soon. The more times Little Dick punched me in the stomach
and the bouncer dunked me, the shorter time I’d be able to hold my breath.
Especially under strain. It was now or never, as they say.

This wasn’t some poorly
thought through action film. The hook wouldn’t have a sharp point for me to cut
through my bonds with. It was thick and rounded. I didn’t even try it.

I pulled my hands
apart as hard as I could. Behind my back, I didn’t have the strength. It just
hurt my shoulders and caused me to breathe out half my air. I felt my body
begin to fight me again. It wanted to breathe in.

Maybe the hook
would help after all.

I pulled myself
into an upside down crouched position. Slid the zip tie restraints down – or
up, actually – over my ankles. Finally over the hook itself. Once it was over
the main bulge of the hook, I pushed with my legs.

The thin plastic
cut into my skin. I felt the lock slip a groove or two. Not enough. The rest of
my air rushed out of my nose and mouth in a blinding torrent of white bubbles.

Panic and
desperation spurred me on. I had no air left and I was moments away from
sucking in the foggy water. I had my eyes open, but I couldn’t see anything
other than white stars. The ringing in my ears was deafening.

It dulled the pain
in my wrists though. I pushed as hard as I could with my legs. Finally, the
plastic tie slipped a few more grooves.

I relaxed my legs. I
breathed in.

The warm pulling,
sucking around my head told me I’d been hauled back out. Not a moment too soon.

I coughed and
spluttered. Tried to gulp in some air in between spitting out half the lake. I
could feel the water somewhere in my chest. It wouldn’t move. The coughing and
retching hurt and didn’t do much to help. Each in-breath caused the ragged coughing
to erupt all over again. The heavy rain made things worse.

‘Where is it?’

I was all out of
witty comments. I just wanted to reach over and crush his head. Once I could
breathe properly again.

Little Dick glanced
at the bouncer.

‘Wait!’ There was
no way I could survive another bath, and having my hands free meant nothing
while I was chained to a giant hook. ‘Wait.’ Little Dick held up his hand. The
bouncer waited.

‘Yeah? The water
washing the stupid out of you?’

I slipped the
plastic tie off my wrists. Tried not to grimace at the pain. I could feel the
blood running up my arms. It had a different feel to the water. I knew the feel
of blood.

‘I can’t tell you
where “it” is, because I don’t know what “it” is.’ I slid the plastic tie into
my back pocket. If he saw that drop into the water, I was done. ‘But I can tell
you: I’m going to kill you, Little Dick.’

His nostrils flared.
The anger fuelled another humourless grin and an extra hard punch. It hurt like
hell. But it was what I’d hoped for.

I used my hands and
my head to extend my backwards swing as much as possible.

‘This could have
been a lot easier, Jack,’ Little Dick shouted over the pounding rain. He
signalled to the bouncer. Time to die.

I pushed my head
forward and fixed my eyes on his. My forward swing sped up.

‘You remember that
death w—’

The moment I was in
range, I brought both hands around to my front. With one, I grabbed hold of
Little Dick’s drenched hair. I pulled hard as I brought my other fist into his
face.

As his nose cracked
under my fist, I reflected on how much I hated violence directed at me. And how
much I hated Little Dick Webster.

The bouncer didn’t
have time to stop himself. Before his brain had caught up with the proceedings,
he’d pulled his little lever. The hook plummeted. I plummeted with it. Little
Dick plummeted with me.

I’d taken a deep
breath. He was still screaming in pain and rage. My backwards momentum had
pulled him under me. When he hit the water and slowed, the top of my head crashed
down square into his face. It hurt me, but it knocked him out.

I grabbed hold of
him again before he floated out of my reach. I could feel the bouncer winching
me up again. With the weight of Little Dick too, it was taking him longer. I
pulled the unconscious shit towards me. Reached inside his jacket. Nothing
under either arm. Panic lurched through my stomach. Nothing at his hips. My
only hope was quickly fading. I reached behind to the back of his fancy cream trousers.
There it was.

Little Dick was
suddenly awake. He writhed and lashed about him. It was too late for him. I
pulled the gun from his belt and shot him anyway. The gun wasn’t as fancy as
I’d have expected from Little Dick, but I guessed it needed to be nondescript
in case he lost it at a crime scene. At least it was waterproof.

The concussive
effect pushed Little Dick away from me. The heat of the gasses around my hand
was uncomfortable, but the least of my worries. My air was running out again,
but that also wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the bouncer was winching
me out of the water, and he’d almost certainly have his own gun ready.

I had a choice to
make. And quickly. I could allow him to pull me out and then try to be the
first to get a shot off. Or I could take a shot through the water at him. The
bullet probably wouldn’t hit him, or do any damage if it did, but he’d let me
go again. That way I could shoot off the chain and surface anywhere. Take him
by surprise. But he could always shoot me through the water.

I chose the former.
Fewer downsides. Or so I thought. I was wrong. As soon as I was above the
surface, I took aim. But the water pouring down me went up my nose and into my
eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.

The bouncer swore.
I guessed he didn’t have his gun ready after all. I fired in his direction, but
heard the bullet hit something metal. I felt weightless. I fired accidentally
as I hit the water a fourth time.

I could just make
out Little Dick in the murk below me. He stood on the bottom of the lake. It
was a lot deeper further out, but here it was only twenty feet or so. Red plumed
out of him like smoke from a signal flare. His eyes were wide and his hands
were raised over his head like he was surrendering. I’d only shot him in the
shoulder. He’d drowned.

I took aim at the
chain. The bouncer would start shooting at me soon. I didn’t know if the
bullets would still do me much damage through the water, but I didn’t want to
find out. I squeezed the trigger, hoping my lack of air wouldn’t disrupt my
aim.

I felt an unpleasant
force on my feet. I started to sink. When the doughnut bubble dissipated, I saw
that the chain was free of the hook. I reached to my ankles and unwrapped it.

By the time the
chain was free, I was on the bottom of the lake with Little Dick. He stared
past me, mouth open. Like there was something horrifying sneaking up behind me.

A small dark shape
floated past my eyes. A bullet. I looked up. Bullets were floating down towards
me. One tapped me on the head. Nearer the surface, I could see streaks now and
then. The bouncer was shooting. He didn’t know I was free.

I pushed off the lakebed
and swam as fast as I could towards the surface. I swam at an angle to get
further along the bank from the bouncer, but I was desperate for air. It
wouldn’t be much further than where he was looking.

The closer I got to
the surface the less able I was to pull myself through the water. The less able
I was to hold my breath. But then there was the rain, rippling the surface. There
was the dim yellow lamp at the side of the jetty. A few seconds later, there
was the air I craved.

Seconds after that,
a click. I turned as quickly as I could. The bouncer ejected his empty clip,
swearing as he did so. I raised my pistol and shot him twice before he loaded
the second. He crashed heavily onto the jetty.

I struggled to the
edge of the dock. Didn’t have the strength to pull myself out. I slid the gun
onto the flat concrete where I wouldn’t lose it, and hooked my arm through a
rusted metal hoop set into the dock wall.

SIX
| CONDOLENCES

 

It was getting cold. I guessed it
was only about two, but the temperature was dropping already. The rain was
warmer than the air. If I lay completely still on the concrete, I felt a little
warm. I’d eventually pulled myself out of the water, before my skin could turn
to tissue paper. I felt like I’d been treading water for hours. Really, it was
about ten minutes.

After a while, the
rain slapping my face got annoying. I climbed to my feet. My toes were numb but
the water in my shoes was warm now. My sodden trousers rubbed against the
water-softened skin of my inner thighs as I approached the inert bulk of the
bouncer.

His suit was shiny
with the rain. His blood joined the excess water and dribbled off the edge of
the jetty into the lake. I’d hit him once in the centre of his chest. The second
bullet must have missed.

I compared the gun
I’d taken from Little Dick to the one lying beside the bouncer. They were
identical. I emptied the chamber of mine and put the bullet back into the clip.
Then I swapped the guns. They were waterproof, but I didn’t want to risk it.
I’d stick to the driest weapon. The bouncer’s gun had an empty chamber and only
four in the clip he’d been about to reload with. He must have had a busy
morning. That filled my weapon to capacity. Sixteen plus one. I cocked the gun
and flicked the safety on. Quicker that way. Who knew when I might run into
Webster’s men again? I couldn’t be bothered taking off and then readjusting the
bouncer’s shoulder holster. I just stuck the gun into the back of my waistband.
The cops had taken my belt.

Next, I checked the
bouncer’s pockets. A vial of some pale blue drug. A comm device with a barely-clothed
woman for wallpaper. His ID as a bouncer of club Web. Lastly, half a pack of
unbranded cigarettes. I stuck one in my mouth and lit it with the bouncer’s ring,
which doubled as a novelty lighter. I put the crumpled pack into my pocket.

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