Authors: Oliver Clarke
Eve didn’t know where the sound was coming from at first. Her eyes were fixed on Joel lying on the floor with Paulie pressing down on him. She knew she had to save him but she didn’t know how, couldn’t make any part of her brain work through the mystery of how she could defeat Harry and his gun or Paulie and his muscles. She turned and saw that her mum’s mouth was open, stretched wide to let the anguished noise she was making come out. Her face was still recognisable but the sound coming out was utterly alien. There was a mix of terror and sorrow in it that chilled Eve.
Harry stared at them. “Shut her up Eve or
I will.” he said.
Eve took her mum’s hand and squeezed it. She touched her face, looked into her eyes and tried to make some connection but the eyes she was looking into were staring at something else. Something in the past.
Harry took a step towards them, his hand flashed by Eve’s face and then the back of his clenched fist collided with her mum’s cheek. The gun, was still gripped in it, the weight of it giving more power to the blow. Her head snapped to the side and she fell silent, the scream cut off as if a door had been shut.
“No more killing, Harry,” she said. “No more. I know what you think you are but you’re not. You can stop it any time you want. He
told me some of the things you’ve done, Max told me. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep on doing them.”
Harry hit her again. The back of his hand slamming into the welt that was already rising from his first blow. “Don’t
you fucking tell me what to do. No woman tells me what to do.”
Her face was bleeding now, blood trickling down the open wound over her cheekbone. Eve had never see
n her mum like that, physically broken, damaged. Her eyes were glazed but she carried on talking.
“She did though didn’t she Harry. She told you exactly what to do. What would she say if she knew where it led? If she knew what you’d done to Max.”
Eve could see the rage bubbling up in Harry, his arm tensing for another blow. She threw herself at him, launching off the sofa and driving her shoulder into his gut. His arm still swung but the blow went wide and as he staggered back with her weight pushing against him. The gun slipped from his fingers and fell to the carpet. Harry saw it drop, saw it skid across the floor and go under an armchair.
“Fuck,” he shouted. “I’m going to fucking kill every one of you.” With Eve still pushing against him he fell back onto the sofa Paulie had been sitting on. He swung his fist at the back of Eve’s head, landing a blow at the base of her skull that seemed to weaken her a little.
From the floor Joel could see only bits of what was happening. He had seen Harry attack Eve’s mum, had heard her words and seen Eve drive Harry backwards out of his vision. All the time the pressure of Paulie’s thick arm pushing down on his head made it feel like it was going to crack open. The handcuffs were cutting into his wrists, his arms and hands trapped beneath his body. He could feel the numbness starting in his fingers from the lack of circulation. He could smell the other man’s stale sweat and the booze on his breath. They were as close as lovers.
From off to the side of his vision he heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh and small cries of pain coming from Eve. All he could see was her mother, sitting stunned on the sofa.
Her face showing the evidence of the damage Harry’s fists could do. The blood was pouring freely down her cheek now, soaking into the collar of the dressing gown she was wearing.
She looked like she might pass out but she stood. She was unsteady on her feet and for a moment Joel thought she would fall but she managed to keep her balance. At first he thought she was going to Eve and Harry but she didn’t, she went in the opposite direction.
On top of him Paulie shifted slightly, his eyes tracking the woman. Joel could hear him muttering under his breath but couldn’t make the words out. Paulie moved again, and the pressure on the side of Joel’s face lessened as he did so. Joel jerked his head to one side, sliding it out from under Paulie’s arm, and saw the arm slam down on the floor in front of his face. Paulie’s body shifted, thrown off balance momentarily, and Joel twisted underneath him, pushing up with all his strength and tipping the big man onto the carpet.
Joel’s arms were released at last. His hands were still numb from the cuffs but his arms felt wonderfully free. Paulie was on his side, facing away from him, trying to get a hand down so he could push himself up. Joel rolled to face him and swung both arms up, looping the chain of the handcuffs around Paulie’s throat and then pulling it back as hard as he could.
He could see Harry and Eve now. Harry had his left hand on his niece’s throat and his right pulled back to punch her. Joel was trapped, Paulie thrashing in his grip, trying to get his fingers under the chain of the cuffs so that he could pull it away from his throat. Joel knew that if he let up the pressure by even the tiniest amount the other man would break free of him. His stomach churned as he watched Harry’s fist connect with Eve’s face.
He heard the punch, heard Eve cry out,
heard Paulie’s rasping breath.
Eve looked over at him, blood trickling from both her nostrils, one eye swelling shut like she was winking at him.
Paulie was kicking at him now, driving his heels back into Joel’s shins. Joel pulled his right leg up, pushing it back into the small of Paulie’s back and giving himself greater leverage. His arms were straining now, the metal of the cuffs pulling against his flesh, scraping the skin away. He didn't know how long he'd been throttling Paulie for, how much breath the man still had in him.
Joel saw that Harry was about to punch Eve again, that heavy, bloodied fist was pulled back and ready. He willed Paulie to give up, to just relax and slip into unconsciousness.
And then just as he was about to throw the punch Harry looked up and stopped. His eyes were bright with surprise and something that might have been fear. Joel strained his head round and followed his gaze. He saw her then, Eve’s mother. She was crouching by an armchair and reaching underneath it. The gun, he thought, she’s going for the fucking gun. He hadn’t even seen it drop but it wasn’t in Harry’s hand anymore so it must be somewhere.
Harry opened his hand and let Eve fall back to the sofa. He strode across the room and grabbed her mum by her hair, pulling her upright to face him. “You don’t get the gun,” he said. “You don’t get anything. Just a bullet.”
Her legs looked like they were collapsing beneath her but Harry kept her on her feet. Joel could see her greying hair pulling her scalp up, the pink flesh was visible through the strands. The skin was taut like it might rip, releasing the hair and allowing her to slump to the floor.
Harry backhanded her again, harder than ever this time. It was a sharp vicious blow that sent her falling back onto the chair.
Harry knelt in front of the chair and reached under it, fingers scrabbling to hook the gun and pull it to him. He could see it, feel it with his fingertips as the slipped off the dull metal. He just had to get it. Then he could end it all. Then he could end them all.
Joel could see Harry on his knees reaching under the chair which Eve’s mother was sprawled on. The woman was still conscious but only barely.
Paulie was thrashing, fighting with all his strength to escape the chain at his neck. Joel knew that if Harry got that gun again it was all over. He had no doubt now that Harry would use it. Use it on him and then probably on the two women.
He managed to get his left knee up by the right. The two locked together pushing into Paulie’s back gave him an even base to lever against. He tugged again with all his strength, ignoring the pain in his wrists and the blood that was flowing from them and coating the handcuffs now. It had only been a couple of minutes but his aching muscles made it feel like much longer. God knows how Paulie had hung on for so long.
Harry pushed his shoulder against the chair, trying to force it backwards so his arm had enough reach to grab the gun. It didn't budge. The fucking thing wasn't on
wheels, that would have been far too easy. Instead four short wooden legs dug determinedly into the carpet. The weight of that fat old bitch on top was pushing them down, making it impossible for him to move the damn thing. The chair was in a corner of the room, walls touching it on two sides and the gun equally inaccessible from either of the two open ones. It was just too fucking far under. Part of Harry thought he should just forget the lust for revenge that was consuming him. That he should grab the money and run for it but he couldn't leave that smug cunt Joel alive, not after all the trouble he'd caused. Besides if he was going to disappear with the money then killing Joel and losing the body might work to his advantage. Whoever took the money was going to have a lot of people looking for them for a very long time. If they were looking for Joel rather than him then he might just be able to see out his days in the sun with a drink in his hand and that little blonde sucking him off every night.
He glanced over at Joel and saw that he was still grappling with Paulie. Jesus the guy was putting up a fight. Harry almost felt proud of him. Paulie had always been a good soldier. If Harry could get the gun in time he might even be able to save him.
He lay flat on the floor and managed to get part of his shoulder under the chair. He could see the gun, the black metal gleaming at him, calling to him. A plan was starting to form in his head. He’d been able to see the end of it for a while, the blonde and the beach, but now the steps that could get him there were starting to appear in front of him. There’d be a lot of blood but he was no stranger to that.
His fingers touched the gun again and this time he knew he had enough reach to actually get it. He slowly crawled his fingers over it, one by one like the legs of a spider. The new angle had given him an extra inch of reach and he was able to hook them over the barrel and start dragging the gun towards him. There wasn't enough room under the chair for him to grasp the gun. His arm barely fit into the low space as it was and he couldn't bend it or make a fist. He was able to slowly pull it the weapon closer by shuffling his whole body backwards though. His eyes shone gleefu
lly at the sight of it moving towards him.
Joel didn’t know how much longer he could keep throttling Paulie. His wrists were burning now, the pain cutting through the numbness in his hands and arms like a knife grinding against the bone. He heard a little grunt of satisfaction from Harry and knew he must either have the gun or be close to it. Eve’s mother was slumped in a tangled heap on the armchair
, Eve was moaning on the sofa, still conscious but dazed. He couldn’t see her face but the sight of it bruised and bloody was burnt into his retinas like the after image of a firework. He had failed her. He’d dragged her into this and then let that happen to her. He didn’t know if a lifetime of care could make up for it. Didn’t know if she’d even still want him. Whatever happened he knew he’d never forget the swollen agony of the damage Harry had done to her. He had to stop this. Had to stop it now.
He tugged harder on the chain, ignoring the sharp aching in his biceps and the searing pain as the cuffs sliced deeper into his flesh. Paulie was still thrashing but Joel thought that maybe, just maybe, he was weakening a little. Surely he had to be by now.
"Just fucking give up," he muttered. “Let it go before I kill you.”
Harry had the gun. At last it was free from under the chair, out on the carpet in front of him. He closed his fingers around the grip and rolled over on the floor to face Joel. Paulie lay between them, the chain of the cuffs embedded in the soft flesh of his throat. There was blood there, coating the metal but Harry couldn’t tell if it was from Paulie’s neck or Joel’s wrists. Probably both. Joel was behind Paulie, only his hands and the edge of his face visible around the bigger man’s body. Harry was so close he might could have risked a shot but he didn’t want to fire the gun more times than he had to. One gunshot might get passed off as something else but two wouldn’t.
He pushed himself up onto his knees to get a clear shot. As he did it he saw Paulie go limp and sag to the floor unconscious. That didn’t matter, nothing mattered now except the pistol in his hand and the man in front of him He could see Joel's face clearly now down the barrel of the gun. It was beaded with sweat, one side of it bruised and swollen, the other pale and washed out with exhaustion. He looked like one of the china clowns Harry’s mum had doted over. Harry felt that familiar rage in him as he started to squeeze the trigger.
Joel stared back at him over Paulie’s unconscious body. He’d beaten the other man but too late. Ten seconds difference was all he would have needed but they were seconds he didn’t have. The chain of the cuffs was still looped around Paulie’s neck, his heavy body now dead weight on one of Joel’s arms. Joel wanted to turn, to strain his head around so that he could see Eve again but he couldn’t. The cold black eye of the gun entranced him, captivated him. He knew the moment and the means of his death. There was nothing he could do, no way
he could escape it. All that was left was to wait for the flash and the bang and the bullet.
When Harry first heard the voice he wasn't sure if it was real or coming from inside him.
It said, "How many will that be?"
He didn't stop. Didn't take his finger off the trigger. Just continued the slow increase of pressure, relishing the moment, teasing the gun to the point that it exploded.
"How many innocent people will you have killed then?" said the
voice.
That stopped him. Not because he didn't still want to kill Joel but because the accusation angered him. It fed on the rage he was already feeling, mixed with it like some exotic cocktail. There was something else there too now though, the sorrow creeping up. The remorse that for so long he had drowned out with hot anger. Sorrow and shame.
Joel watched amazed as Harry turned away from him. He'd been waiting for the bullet, waiting for the darkness to descend but it didn't happen. He exhaled, letting back out what he thought had been his last breath. He needed to lift his hands back over Paulie’s head so that he could free himself and stand a chance of facing off to Harry.
Harry looked down at the old woman staring up at him from the chair. The split on her cheek was even worse now, a flap of skin hanging loosely down.
"They weren't all innocent," he said.
“It only takes one,” she said back. “One innocent life snuffed out. That’s all it takes to damn you, Harry.”
Joel slowly slid his hands forward, moving them as gently as he could so that the chain between the cuffs didn’t rattle. He could hear Eve’s mother’s words and could see that they had Harry rapt. The man was distracted, looking away from him, not paying any attention to him, but that could change in an instant. And if it did an instant later that bullet with his name on it would be flying towards him out of the gun.
As he moved his hands forward the tension on the chain slackened. They moved in front of Paulie’s face and he expected the links to swing free so that he could lift his hands up. They didn’t though, instead they clung resolutely to Paulie. Joel continued moving his hands slowly forward and felt a pulling on the chain, a resistance that he hadn’t expected. He realised that the steel had cut into and embedded itself in Paulie’s skin. The metal entwined with his flesh through the relentless pressure Joel had applied to it. The thought of it made him feel sick. He couldn’t see it but he could picture the links of the chain gory with blood, dug into the flesh they had sawed through.
He pushed further forward, gradually increasing the pressure and feeling that resistance increase. He kept pushing, feeling the chain pull against Paulie’s skin, watching Harry’s back. H
e could see the tension there, knew that Harry would spin around with the gun in his hand and unleash his rage at the hint of a noise. Gently, he thought, everso fucking gently.
The woman spoke again, her voice was slightly slurred from the swelling around her mouth.
"You're disgusting, Harry. You always have been. Max tried to convince me it wasn't your fault, that I shouldn’t blame you but I always knew it was you because whatever happened when you were a kid you could have stopped whenever you wanted to. But you didn’t want to did you Harry? Because you like it don’t you? You like being evil.”
Harry shouted back at her, his whole body rocking “You want to know the truth? I like being me. I’ve got where I am myself. No fucker’s helped. It’s all me.” He jabbed his thumb at his chest to punctuate the sentence.
Joel felt the chain pull free at last. He could see it as he lifted it gently over Paulie’s head. It was as sickening a sight as he’d imagined. His arm was still caught under the Paulie’s solid frame and Joel had to twist his body to bring his free arm round. He was on his back now, Harry visible only in the periphery of his vision, His left shoulder was caught under Paulie. He just needed to wriggle that out and he would be free.
Harry took a step towards the woman. The gun was heavy in his hand, reminding him it was there and that it wanted to be used. He stared down at her full of contempt. It was fucking easy for her to judge him. “If it wasn’t for me and the things I’ve done Max would have died as a kid, don’t you forget that. You’d never have met him, never have made her.” He turned to point at Eve and there was Joel standing in front of him. He tried to bring the gun up but he couldn’t do it in time. Joel’s two hands were together, the fingers entwined to make one big blood streaked fist. It swung up, the handcuff chain rattling and trailing blood through the air, and caught Harry under the chin. His teeth ground together in his mouth as his head snapped back and he fell against the wall.
Joel stepped up and hit him again, his linked fists hitting Harry’s left cheek and slamming his right against the wall. Harry fell to the floor. The gun dropped from his limp hand and thudded to the carpet next to him as his eyes rolled shut.
A shower of freezing water woke Harry. Joel was there with an empty glass in his hand. The cuffs were off him and his wrists were bandaged, the white fabric stained with blood. Eve and her mother stood with him. The girl had Harry’s gun in her hand. It was pointed at him. She didn’t look like she knew how to use it but at this range he knew she’d have to mess up pretty badly not to hit him. More than likely the best her inexperience would mean was that it would take her a few shots to kill him rather than just one.
It was Eve’s mother who spoke. Katherine her name was, Kathy. She’d been quite the looker in her day and she and his brother Max had been a popular couple. Harry could only watch from a distance as his younger brother gradually fell in love with this beautiful delicate creature. As he saw Max woo her and romance her he realised how little he knew about love and how much he wanted to know. He’d gone from being a child to a man with none of the steps of adolescence in between.
It had been a while before Eve had come along. Max and Kathy had lived together happily as Harry watched on asking himself why that same happiness eluded him. When his mother died he watched Kathy consoling Max at the funeral. Supporting him. Loving him. He had no-one to do the same for him. It was just Harry. Successful Harry. Strong Harry. Feared Harry.
When his niece was born it was like another reminder of his failure as a person. He held her just once, when she was a few weeks old. She lay cradled in his arms, looking up at him with eyes full of wonder and innocence. Harry felt his heart breaking inside because he didn’t see how he could ever have the same thing.
“You’re going to tell her what you told me before,” Kathy said to him. “What you told me when you came here this evening. Eve has to hear it from you.”