Blood Crazy (17 page)

‘Would you have really set fire to your father, Slatter?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Why?'

‘Why not?'

‘Do you think he's still following you?'

He made an animal grunt that I guess meant yes.

‘I saw my parents, you know. They're following me too.'

‘Then they'll be fucking ape shit as well. This is the one time in my life I'm going to do you a favour, Aten. My advice is kill them the first chance you get. Or they'll kill you.'

‘Why should I wait for them to do it?
You
want to kill me, don't you?'

‘Nah … I just want to pretty your face up a bit.'

‘Why? Why have you spent your life hating me?'

‘Because—'

GOTCHA!

I whipped the glasses and ran. He was ready for me to run to the car. The idiot didn't know what hit him when I ran in the other direction, vaulted the fence and ran up the ploughed field, the glasses in my hand.

‘You're dead, Aten!'

He ran after me.

It was tough work. The wet soil stuck to my shoes until I was running with a great clump of mud at the end of each leg.

Halfway across the field I was panting, my leg muscles ached, rain and sweat blinded me. I could hear the thump of Slatter's pit boots behind me. Looking to my left, I saw the Shogun speeding up the lane to the top of the field.

Another sixty seconds and Slatter would be all alone. Waiting for daddy to call … Ha-Ha! I felt a delirious rush of energy.
Slatter's history!

I heaved on across the slop, mud squelching around my feet, water soaking me through – this was bloody murder – but it would be worth it.

It all turned to shit when I felt the bang on the back of my head. I went face down into the mud.

Slatter reached down and pulled the glasses out of my hand.

‘You say that brat with the pigtails can't see without these, Aten?'

‘She needs them. Look, just give them back, and we—'

He bent over me so I could see, then he snapped the arms off. ‘Bastard glasses.' He threw the spectacle arms back over his shoulder.

‘Oh, shit, Slatter. There's no need to do that. Damn …'

Watching my face for the reaction, he calmly snapped the glasses so the lenses were separated. He threw them, too. Then he raised his boot above my face like he was going to step on an ant.

I don't remember any more.

First my lips split apart. Next, my eye cracked open. I was dead meat, lying in darkness.

I rocked my head to the left. My neck hurt.

With an effort I cracked open the other eye. I gently fingered each eye in turn. They were puffed and coated in crispy crumbs of something that might have been blood. My face felt stiff and swollen.

I remembered Slatter and the ploughed field. Where I was now God only knew.

As I lay there trying to get my brain firing on all four cylinders light exploded into the room.

‘So … You're awake at long last.'

I recognised Sarah's voice.

‘Yeah … But feeling half dead.'

‘You're lucky not to be a hundred percent dead … If you have any more bright ideas like that, I'll stamp on your head myself.'

‘Is that what he did?' My eyes focused enough to let me see Sarah nodding. She sat on the edge of my bed.

‘Dave reckons the only thing that saved you was the soil was so soft he stamped your stupid head right into it.'

‘Are we at the hotel?'

‘No such luck. It took me half an hour to drag you across to the car. Then Dave came back for us. He'd found this motel so we're stopping here the night. We've been here …' She looked at her watch, her blonde hair falling over her face. ‘Five hours.'

‘Where's Slatter?'

‘He took off on foot back the way we came.'

‘He'll come back … Christ, it's the first time I've been in a bed for … Hell, I can't remember how long since.'

Sarah lit a candle. I saw her concerned eyes looking down at me. ‘He made a mess of your face, you know. It's one big bruise.'

Then without warning, completely out of the gob-smacking blue, she leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

‘You're a fool,' she said stroking my hair. ‘But I'm a bigger fool. I've got a soft spot for you, Nick Aten. Now … You stay there and I'll get you some soup. Chicken okay?'

‘Fine, nurse.'

‘I'll bring some bread, too … Don't worry, you've still got all your teeth, so you can chew.'

By the time she got back with a tray I was pulling my shirt on.

‘Where you going?'

‘I need to look at the yellow mini-bus. I want to do a proper job of cleaning the plugs before we set off tomorrow.'

‘You'll not get out of that bed, boyo.' She pushed me back. ‘It's nearly dark anyway. No … Stay where you are, Nick, or I'll hide your jeans.'

Stiffly I slid back in, trying to hide the look of pain on my face.

‘It needs looking at. The engine's a mess.'

‘You can see to it tomorrow. Dave has just told me he plans to stay here at least two nights. A lot of the kids are getting cranky. The shock of what happened to Rebecca and the two sisters is beginning to tell. He's already had to bring back one boy who decided to go it alone on his bike.'

Sarah fed me the soup. I looked up at her face, just getting a different kind of nourishment from watching her blue eyes. We talked for a good hour before she kissed me goodnight and blew out the candle.

I wished she hadn't gone. It would have felt good to hold another human being.

* * *

The next day.

The plug came out as tarred up as before. I used a nail to gouge away the worst of the burnt-on oil. As I worked on the mini-bus's engine beneath a dripping tree Dave loped up.

‘Nick, are you sure you feel fit enough to do that?'

‘It needs sorting. The cylinder's not firing.'

‘How are you feeling?'

‘Sore. Has Slatter come back?'

‘No. We haven't seen him since it happened.'

‘Slatter'll have satisfied his inner craving now he's pulped me. He'll probably be quiet for a day or two.'

‘If he doesn't show by eight tomorrow we'll go without him anyway.'

‘How long to the hotel now?'

‘If we get a clear run, perhaps four or five hours. Once there we can rest and take stock.'

‘Do you think we'll make a go of it at the hotel?'

‘I don't see why not. If we can cultivate some fields with corn and vegetables, and there's bound to be sheep and—'

‘No. I don't just mean food.' I leaned back, wiping my hands on a rag. ‘That will probably be the least of our problems. Even if Family Creosote leave us alone we're still going to run into trouble.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean who's going to be boss? Who's going to tell us what to do – then make sure we do it?'

‘For a while the Steering Committee will run things then we'll hold a free election to determine the membership of the next Committee.'

I laughed. It hurt my face – but I laughed so loudly David Middleton, Jesus's little sunbeam, looked startled.

‘Look, Dave, a lot of these kids aren't reasonable or sensible human beings. Did you know that? They're not like the nice kids you take on these Church youth weekends. Most are, but a lot are vicious little bastards.'

‘We're in a mess, Nick. They'll see the dangers and the need to pull together, behave responsibly and—'

‘Will they shit. They're quiet now because a bunch of them are in
shock. But they're starting to come out of it. You can see it with your own eyes. I remember Curt from school. He's been in trouble with the police, he gets into fights in clubs – correction, he waits until there's a fight, then he kicks whoever's on the floor. The girl with red hair who's always complaining – she's been busted for selling drugs. Like you, I went to school and kept my eyes open. You know as well as I do some kids are bullies, some steal, some use threats and violence to exploit ones younger or weaker than themselves.'

‘So, what are you saying?'

‘That you are going to have to wave a big stick, Dave, if you hope to get some of these kids to do what they are told.'

Dave shook his head, sad that I was talking that way. ‘I agree some of these people are rough diamonds, but I believe they haven't been given a real chance in life. We will reason with them and give them a sense of responsibility.'

My head ached when I shook it and I went back to work on the mini-bus.

The room felt cold after two days' rain. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the framed print of sunflowers on the wall. The TV sat dead in the corner. Even if we had electricity I was sure there'd be nothing but static on the thing now.

They say you don't miss something until you lose it. How bloody true. What I wouldn't give to watch some old film. Maybe something like
It's a Wonderful Life
that I'd seen a million times before. Familiarity's reassuring.

I was ready to snuff the candle when the tap came on the door.

It opened. ‘Hi, how you feeling?'

‘Fine, Sarah, thanks. I'm just wondering whether to watch the in-house movie or the World Wrestling Summer Slam Spectacular.'

She stepped in, looking cute in a towelling robe. She'd brushed her long hair down over one shoulder, so it covered one breast.

Suddenly awkward, we said nothing for a moment until she held out a can. ‘I found some beer in the back of the car.'

‘Thanks. Just what the doctor ordered.'

‘You're quite privileged, you know. You're the only one with
your own room. Even Martin's having to share with Dave. I'm sharing with Anne and Vicki and two other girls. It's cramped.'

‘Sit down.' I smiled. ‘I'm rattling around in this place like a pea in a packing case.'

We opened our beers and sat again feeling awkward.

‘Nick,' she suddenly sounded brisk. ‘I've been thinking. Life is going to be difficult, in fact it's going to be a battle to survive. People are going to start acting like animals to get what they want. I can see a time when there will be no pleases or thank-yous. Those tough enough are going to just take what they want – food, clothes … anything.'

‘What are you saying, Sarah?'

‘I'm saying, Nick … God, I wish there was an easier way … What I am saying is, soon girls may not have the right to say no, so …' She took a huge breath. ‘So, I want you to be the first one.'

We looked at one another: her eyes searched my face, reading what she saw there.

I leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips, my ears rang, and I felt a light burn inside me.

She smelt clean, a faint perfumed smell with something musky beneath.

Her arms came up around my head and she pulled my face to hers harder now. The pains went from my face and neck and I only felt the whisper of her hair on my bare arms and the pressure of her lips.

I felt her hunger. When I slipped my hand inside her dressing gown, I felt the beat of her heart as much as her breast beneath my fingers.

As we kissed she slipped off the dressing gown and all I knew was the heat of her body. Time meant nothing as we kissed on the bed, but still I found myself holding back until she whispered, ‘I'm ready now. Do it … I want you to do it.'

I was nervous, afraid to hurt her. But apart from a gasp she did not cry out. She only held me tightly until it was over.

An hour later I felt her hands touching me again. This time she made love to me as much as I made love to her.

The convoy left the hotel by eight. Sarah and her sisters rode in the Shogun with me. Vicki wore the glasses that Sarah had done her best to repair with sticking plaster, but she could only wear them for short periods before they began to irritate her.

Slatter? There was no sign. With any luck he'd have run into Father Slatter and the pair would have cancelled one another out.

Sarah's cheeks still carried a flush from the night before. Every so often we'd make eye contact only to break it with secretive smiles.

I constantly checked the rearview for the yellow mini-bus. If its exhaust was blowing blue smoke I was happy. That meant the faulty cylinder was still firing and burning oil. It wasn't perfect but it meant Jo, the driver, had at least adequate pulling power – the mini-bus was chocker with canned vegetables as well as its five passengers.

Before we set off Dave had tried to persuade me to ditch the Shogun and ride in the mini-bus. He told me he wasn't happy with me driving after all those knocks on the head. I told him otherwise and belted myself into the Shogun. Shaking his head, saddened by my rebel streak, he returned to the big bus up front.

We had been driving for twenty minutes when Sarah breathed in sharply.

‘My God … Here it comes …'

In the rearview I saw a grey Rolls Royce come swerving along the road to overtake the convoy. Driving, larger than life, Mr Nightmare himself.

‘Tug Slatter.' Sarah shook her head. ‘He's found us, then. Just look at the idiot. He's going to kill himself.'

‘Yip Pee,' I said under my breath. ‘He'd be doing us a big favour if he did … Jesus, what's he playing at?'

Where Slatter had got the Roller from I don't know but he was driving the car so it scraped down the full length of a stone wall, grating paint, chrome trim and mirrors off the car in a spray of debris.

‘Why's he doing that?' asked Anne.

‘Because he is completely mad,' replied Sarah.

‘I know him of old,' I told them. ‘He enjoys destroying property. The more someone values it the more he gets a kick from trashing it.'