Just Another Day - Clark Steven - Страница 39
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Tony couldn’t look at Terry anymore and closed his eyes. He jumped involuntarily as he heard two of terry’s ribs break and he pulled himself away from his brothers’ grip. He knew what he had done and that was enough for him. He didn’t want to revel in it. Luke didn’t bother to stop him. He could have held him if he wanted and forced him to watch as Terry breathed his last, but Luke was more fascinated by the spectacle and wanted to be closer. He leaned in and his face was no more than twelve inches or so from Terry. He could see his eyes bulging and all the veins on his forehead and neck standing out against the skin. The breathing was very shallow and almost none existent. He saw the eyes begin to glass over and the pulse on his neck became very faint. As his heart was pressed ever closer to the front of his chest and his lungs slowly but surely compressed, all that could be heard in the still night air was the breath expelling from the dead mans throat in a hoarse, rasping manner and the occasional rib cracking with the relentless crushing. He watched for the next few minutes until he was sure that he was dead. He saw his younger brother stumbling away and quickly moved toward him.
‘Listen, Tony. That had to be done. When they find him in the morning it won’t be suspicious. They’ll all say what a great fella he was and that’ll be the end of it, no comeback on any one, just a simple but tragic accident can’t you see that?’
Tony was bent forward with his hands on his knees trying desperately not to throw up. He knew he had to keep the contents of his stomach intact. It would be a dead giveaway if there was a load of vomit just a few yards from the scene of the ‘accident’. Questions would be asked. Why, if someone had come across the scene and been so horrified by what they’d seen that they had vomited on the road, why hadn’t they contacted the police or the ambulance. He took a few deep breaths and straightened. A sample of the puke, a DNA profile and it wouldn’t take them long to come looking for him.
He turned to face his brother and in a rare show of aggression towards him, he launched himself forward and punched him in the chest. Luke was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered and wrestled his young brother to the ground. Tony thrashed with his legs and tried to struggle free but he was no match for Luke. He’d never been much of a match for him. Luke for his part would normally have delighted in the opportunity to kick the shite out of his brother. How dare the little shit bag have a go at him. He didn’t retaliate. He just held him tight to make sure he couldn’t do any damage to either of them. Luke also realised that although they were brothers and shared many traits and similarities; in some things, they were very different. He never felt compassion for anything but, in that moment, he felt a definite tinge of remorse for his little brother.
The moment passed instantly and Luke pushed his brother away and they both sprang to their feet and faced each other with clenched fists. Tony was the first to ease up a little and he relaxed his hands.
‘I know that it was the only way Luke; you’re right, he would have told someone what had happened. Just because it needed to be done, doesn’t mean I should enjoy it. I’m not like you Luke.’
He turned and started to walk towards the dock wall. Luke ran up behind him and attempted to lighten the mood by playfully grabbing his little brothers’ head and ruffling his hair. Tony pulled away and ran towards the wall. He took a leap and scrambled to the top in the same way that they had done when getting into the docks earlier. They couldn’t risk being seen by the policeman on the gate and they had gone in and out of the docks in this way many times in the past, particularly as kids when they would come and go after nicking stuff. As they both sat astride the wall facing each other, Tony said again,
‘I’m not like you Luke, I’m not a cold blooded killer. I’ll never do that again. I’ll kill you before I ever do that again. You will never put me in that situation ever again.’
Luke shrugged his shoulders and swung his other leg over the wall and dropped down to the street below. He had bullied his little brother since before he could walk. If he wanted, he could sort him out no bother, but, at the back of his mind, something had changed in Tony and he would have to keep his wits about him.
Maybe, just maybe, Tony had had enough of being bullied by his big brother. He might need watching a bit more than usual.
Chapter 17
The siren of the ambulance going past at speed suddenly brought Luke Johnson back to the present. He must have dozed off and he felt a rise of panic in his guts. How long had he been asleep, where were they?
He had taken his finger off the trigger of the shotgun and had it resting on the trigger guard, just as well really as the sudden realisation of his own vulnerability automatically tightened his trigger finger. The safety catch was off and if he he’d had his finger on the trigger itself, it would definitely have gone off without him intending it to and the back of the car would have been one horrible bloody mess. Was that siren for him, was he compromised in any way?
His captive alongside was still in a state of semi consciousness and would not cause him any bother. He tried to make out that he had been awake all the time. His position directly behind John gave him good cover and it was unlikely that he would have been able to see him dozing.
‘Where are we? What fuckin time is it?’ he growled to John.
‘We’re on the M6 going towards Birmingham, we’re not far from the services at Keele.’ John glanced at his watch; they had been in the car for about an hour since leaving the lorry behind at the Industrial Estate. ‘Just coming up to half past four.’
‘Take a drink out of that bottle of water and then pass it back to me.’
John did as he was ordered. He hoped that some bright spark hadn’t decided to tamper with the bottle. The last thing he wanted while driving was to suddenly feel drowsy because someone had decided to spike the water in the hope that Johnson might fall asleep. He was getting to the point of being past caring in many ways. He was emotionally fatigued and tired because of their ordeal and he just wanted to get away from Johnson. He glanced in the mirror and although it was starting to get dark, he could still see the face of Dave in the semi darkness of the cars interior. He didn’t look good at all and John was becoming increasingly concerned for his colleague.
If they didn’t get out of this soon, Johnson wouldn’t need to top him; he would die anyway through blood loss. The thought had crossed his mind more than once about intentionally crashing the car into one of the motorway bridges. Dave was nearly comatose and probably wouldn’t feel it too much. The thought of the shotgun going off was what dissuaded him from carrying it out for real; that and the realisation that he might just cause a motorway pile up and be responsible for more than their own deaths made him concentrate hard on staying awake.
Johnson took a swig of water and splashed some more on his face. He looked across at the battered copper alongside him and, in a rare moment of compassion, or maybe he just wanted to make sure that he had the pleasure of killing him rather than watching him die, also splashed some water on his face and gave him the bottle to drink from.
‘He’re, wake yourself up a bit and drink some of this. What else have we got.’ he said to John, gesturing to the box on the seat alongside the driver.
The powers that be knew it was important to try and keep them all hydrated and nourished to some extent and had given john a box of goodies when they gave him the car earlier.
‘There’s a few ‘mars’ bars, some energy bars and some packets of biscuits. There’s also another half a dozen bottles of water and a few packets of crisps.’
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