Authors: Casey Kelleher
Jamie had the gun pointed at Jerell’s face; his eyes were locked onto the other man’s. “What the fuck is going on?” Jamie had heard stories of Jerell being an animal, but this wasn’t the kind of depraved action he had expected to be greeted with. The man before them was a fucking paedophile. Jamie felt his finger graze the trigger, as he tried to control himself. Looking into the petrified boy’s eyes, Jamie wanted to stick a few bullets in Jerell’s skull for what he had just done to this poor kid, apart from everything else.
“I ask the fucking questions around here.” Jerell pressed the barrel of his gun harder into Tyler’s temple, showing that he would shoot the kid if he needed to. He figured holding the boy hostage was working, as the men would surely have shot him by now otherwise. “Who the fuck are you? What are you doing thinking you can come to my home?” Jerell was outraged by the audacity of the two men, as he started to feel like he was back in control. These men had broken into his house. They had guns pointed at him.
Outside the room, Les was dripping with sweat, moving from one foot to the other nervously. He was unsure of what he should do; he wasn’t very good at making his own decisions. He had been told that he couldn’t leave the door unguarded, and hearing the voice that he assumed was Jerell’s shouting from inside the flat, Les was starting to feel panicky. Why hadn’t they done what they said they were going to do and just shot the bastard? What was taking them so long? As well as hearing all the commotion that was going on inside the flat, he was also trying to keep an eye on Gavin and Shay who were up the other end of the road and now seemed to be in a bit of bother themselves. Les had watched them approach the group of kids that they had obviously recognised from hanging around the flat earlier. They had seen that the kids had been heading towards Jerell’s, so they had done what they were told and tried to hold the kids off.
***
Shay hadn’t had much time to think about what he was going to say, as he and Gavin speedily crossed the road over to where the group of loud, hyper kids were walking.
“Ha, did you see that look on the guy’s face, blood, when he opened the door? He was proper vexed, man.” The youngest boy laughed. They had shoved a firework through some bloke's letterbox, while they had hidden in the bushes and pissed themselves laughing as they watched. The panicking man had run out of the house and thrown his front doormat out on to the road and then frantically stamped all over it to put out the flames. He had looked like he was doing a weird tribal dance; the boys had it all on their iPhones, another video to show off to the others.
“That will stop the muggy old cunt from telling the police about us hanging around near his house in future,” the oldest boy replied, proud that he had shown the younger ones how to deal with local people that piss you off. The bloke was lucky; a firework would be the least of his troubles if he rang the police again.
As Shay saw the boys getting closer to the flat he had no time to think about what to say to prevent them going any further, and in hindsight wished he hadn’t clouded his brain by smoking that gear. Stupidly, the only thing he could think of was to ask for directions to the nearest shops.
“What do we look like: fucking London tour guides or something?” One of the boys said, laughing, as he pushed past Shay, looking him up and down like he was a piece of shit before continuing to walk.
Shay hadn’t expected the kids to take the piss, but asking for directions had immediately made them targets for the boys’ jibes, now that they knew the two men weren’t from around these parts.
“Ah, what’s the matter, you two poofters lost, are ya?” The tallest kid tried to push past the two men who were trying to block the path.
Shay looked at Gavin in desperation. They couldn’t let the kids get to the flat or all hell would break loose. Gary and Jamie wouldn’t stand a chance if Jerell had back-up. Gavin had started to lose his temper with the boys now anyway and fancied teaching one of the little shits a lesson. Grabbing the mouthy older boy by his hood as he tried to push past, Gavin swung him around so that the boy was up close to Gavin’s face.
“What did you just call me?” Gavin eyeballed the kid, letting him know that he had chosen the wrong person to piss off.
“You two think you're rude boys, huh?” Shrugging Gavin’s hand off his coat, the kid laughed as he looked Gavin and then Shay up and down once again, like they were hot steamy shits; if Gavin had intimidated him the boy certainly wasn’t showing it. “You going to get out of my way, or am I going to have to make you?” The boy’s threat was loaded, as he lifted his top up and flashed the handle of the blade that was sticking out of his pocket, confident that he could take these two men on if he had to.
Shay looked nervously at the knife, as he silently cursed Gavin’s quick temper. The other boys standing around were enjoying the show that was unfolding before them. They loved a good street fight.
***
In the flat, Jerell was slowly moving towards the door, dragging Tyler by his arm as he continued to hold the gun at the boy’s head, not once taking his eyes off Jamie and Gary.
Jamie was tempted to shoot; he reckoned if he was fast enough he could take Jerell out without him getting a chance to press his own gun’s trigger, and maybe then the boy would be okay. Gary, however, didn’t want to take the chance and had shook his head at Jamie warningly, not wanting to get any kid caught up in the cross fire.
But Jerell was almost at the door.
Gary continued pointing his gun in Jerell’s direction, but his attention was on Jamie, trying desperately to make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid. Seeing the bead of sweat trickle down Jamie’s forehead, Gary could almost see his brain whirling away inside his head.
“Let him go, Jamie.”
Jamie wanted the pervert to be taught a lesson, but he knew that he couldn’t take a risk in case it backfired and the boy took a bullet. He couldn’t live with a child’s blood on his hands.
“Les: move. Jerell’s coming out, and he’s got a kid with him,” Gary shouted towards the front door, knowing that Les would freak out if he saw a mountain of a man coming towards him, armed and with a kid in tow.
It all happened so fast. Les heard the panic in his boss’ voice, as Jerell lurched towards him. Les pointed his gun at Jerell, fighting to control the tremble in his hands. “Put your gun down now,” Les ordered; his voice shook and the words didn’t come out as loudly as he had wanted them too; he felt so scared he could barely move.
“Don’t do nothing stupid, do what your boss man in there tell you. Move outta me way!” Jerell had no time for the fat, sweaty man in the doorway. The man's pistol was aimed at him but he looked incapable of pulling a pint, let alone a trigger. A few more steps and Jerell would be out of there.
“Let him go, Les,” Gary called, worried that Les was in danger and knowing how scared he would be.
Panicking, Les moved forward towards Jerell at the same time as Gary shouted at Les to get out of the way.
The shot rang out.
***
Shay and Gavin’s fight had barely started. The boy had just flashed the knife as they danced around him in circles trying to avoid getting cut, as the others watched, laughing and jeering.
On hearing the gunshot, the boys forgot about the two jokers that they had been threatening and ran towards the flat where the noise had come from.
Gavin and Shay followed, hoping the gunshot had been Jamie finishing off Jerell; they had been in there longer than planned and Gavin and Shay had no idea what the situation was.
Seeing Jerell running out of the flat and down the street, dragging Tyler, the gang of boys followed. They were unsure why their boss was running, but if he wasn’t hanging around, neither would they.
The first thing Shay and Gavin saw when they got to the flat was Jamie, crouched on the floor, blood on his clothes and hands.
“Oh my fucking God, we need an ambulance,” Shay said.
“We ain’t got time for a fucking ambulance, get Gavin’s car here, now.” The panic in Jamie’s voice was evident. Looking at Les, Jamie ordered: “Pull yourself fucking together, mate, the police are going to be swarming all over here in about five minutes. You need to get a fucking grip.”
Les was shaking; a warm trickle of piss ran down his leg, as he went into shock.
Knowing that he wouldn’t get any sense out of the bloke, Jamie nodded to Gavin. “Gavin, get Les in the Jag and back to my place. Do it now. I’ll call you in a bit. Do not let him out of your sight, you hear me?” Jamie reached into Gary’s pocket and rooted around for his car keys; then, trying to think clearly despite the nightmare that had just unfolded before him, he got his own keys out of his back pocket and passed them to Gavin.
Seeing Gavin hold up a shaky Les as he guided him to the Jag, Jamie hoped that Gavin would be able to keep Les under control, the last thing they needed right now was fucking hysterics from him.
Shay screeched up beside the flat in Gavin’s car seconds later; Jamie looked back down to Gary who was lying on the floor having taken the bullet that Jerell had meant for Les. Gary’s eyes were glazed and he was clearly in a lot of pain.
His hands tightly placed over the hole in Gary’s stomach, Jamie tried to stem some of the bleeding. “It’s going to be alright, Gary, you’re going to be alright,” he said, and hoped to God he was right.
Jamie and Shay lifted Gary carefully into the back seat of the Escort. There was no time to wait for an ambulance to arrive; Shay would have to get him to the hospital.
As Shay weaved in and out of the traffic like a racing driver, Jamie’s mind was also racing. Jerell was an animal and whatever he had been doing to that poor boy when they had burst in on him was disgusting; it had been the last thing Jamie had expected to see and had shocked him to the core. He hoped that the kid would be okay, but right now his priority was Gary, who was now mumbling incoherently in the back of the car.
“Fucking hell, what are those horrible noises he’s making?” Shay glanced behind him. The sight of Jamie and his boss covered in blood made him want to cry. This was bad, very bad.
He pushed his foot to the floor; fuck speed restrictions, the hospital wasn’t far but they were running out of time. Gary looked like he was slipping away.
Gary lay across the back seat, his head resting on Jamie’s lap. His breathing was raspy; his eyes were opening and closing. Jamie fought to keep him conscious by saying his name and telling him he would be okay. Gary didn’t seem able to reply. Jamie did everything in his power to remain in control; he would be strong for his boss, even though he felt like falling apart. Gary couldn’t die.
Shay drove like a maniac up Lambeth Palace Road towards the Accident and Emergency unit of St Thomas’ Hospital, feeling that they were losing the battle with time. Gary had stopped making the rasping sounds; his breathing was slow, too slow and quiet. He was almost silent.
Reaching the garage around the corner from the flat, Jerell struggled to catch his breath. He had run so fast, with no idea if the men were chasing him, but he wasn’t prepared to stand around waiting for them to catch up. They were tooled up, and there were more of them.
Jerell released his grip on Tyler then yanked up the garage door. He pointed the butt of his pistol at his Beamer. “Get in,” he ordered Tyler, nodding at the passenger door. They needed to get out of there and quickly.
Tyler slowly climbed into the front seat. He was numb from the evening’s events and scared shitless of what Jerell was capable of doing to him next. He felt totally overwhelmed by everything that had just happened to him and, along with what Jerell had made him do, he couldn’t shake the awful image of Jerell shooting the man. Tyler had almost thrown up at the sight of all the blood that spurted out as he had watched the man grab his stomach before slumping to the floor in front of him.
As Jerell opened the driver’s door and got into the motor, the boys that had followed them ran up to the entrance of the garage. Jerell quickly unwound his window and leant out.
“Whoa, Jerell, what the hell was that about, man; you showed those jokers, didn’t you? Who the fuck was they, man? One of them looks like a goner; think they’re all scraping his guts off the pavement now. There’s blood everywhere.” The oldest boy said. He had caught a good look at the bloodshed as he had run past the group of men all crouching by the front door of the flat. Jerell never failed to impress him with how ruthless he could be. Jerell cut the boy’s banter short. It wasn’t a laughing matter, Jerell was fuming with himself for reacting the way he had back there, but he had felt cornered, and now he had jeopardised everything he had worked so hard to build up by shooting someone on his own doorstep. He needed to think fast; he needed to keep himself from getting pulled in.
“No-one goes back to the flat, ya hear me?” Jerell spoke as calmly as he could manage, but his heart was pounding. The last thing he wanted was to get sent down for murder, and the way things had gone at the flat, it seemed likely. He was going to have to get off the radar. Staring at the older boy, his dark brown eyes looked so intense they could have almost been jet black. “Rhys,” he instructed the older boy, “find Reagan, tell him what’s happened. The rest of you, watch the flat. Make sure none of our boys go near it. I don’t want any of you connected to that place while all this shit’s going on, if dem police start snooping, say nothin’, you get me? Keep your heads down and tell all the boys to steer well clear.”
Everything had been going so smoothly, and now he had all this shit to deal with. The police wouldn’t find anything inside the flat other than a few spliffs, but the blood all over the doorstep was a whole other story; one that he wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of. He needed to find somewhere to lay low for a while, until he could find out what happened to the man that he had shot, and he had to hope to God they wouldn’t be able to connect the shooting to him. Also, he would have to ditch his gun.
The man must be dead, he thought. There was no way that he could have been shot at close range, right in the gut, and survive. Jerell hadn’t meant to shoot him, but he had got in the way. The fat sweaty man had lunged towards him and had unsteadily waved his gun in Jerell’s direction. The man had looked shaky and scared but the way he pointed the gun about he seemed capable of shooting him, maybe as a last-ditch attempt at playing the hero.