After snatching the bar away, Dean glared at George before turning his attention to John on the floor.
Despite not liking the man, a heavy darkness swelled in George’s chest as he watched the last few twitches of life slip through him. There had been too many deaths, and there would be too many more.
Silence filled the space, and everyone watched Dean, waiting for him to say something.
When it had gone on for a few minutes, George drew a breath to speak. However, before he could get the words out, Dean shook his head to jolt himself from his daydream and looked up at Freddie. Smiling as if he were high, he asked, “Do you like Snickers bars?”
Narrowing his eyes, Freddie studied the lunatic.
“Well?”
Freddie looked at the corpse and started sobbing.
While holding it out to him, Dean spoke in a soft voice, “Here, take it.” It was the voice he’d used on the dog in the cul-de-sac.
Swallowing back the musty taste of damp that was permanently in his throat, George watched on. What was Dean doing?
Reaching out a shaking hand, Freddie took the offered bar.
Wincing, George looked down at Dean’s hammer. At any minute now, it was going to end up buried in the side of Freddie’s head.
Without taking his attention off Freddie, Dean held his hand out behind him.
Continuing to watch the hammer and the tight grip that Dean had on it, George placed the keys in his open palm.
Whilst still looking at the boy, Dean flicked a key free with one hand and held the bunch in Ravi’s direction. “This opens the cage on the truck that we haven’t used. Put him in it.” He then added, “Oh, and give him a blanket.”
“Give him what?”
Flashing a glare at Ravi, Dean lifted his top lip in a snarl. “A blanket. Are you fucking deaf or something?”
With his guts sinking, George watched Ravi grab Freddie and lead him to the truck. Freddie was now crying freely. What the fuck was going on? Why was he playing with him? “He’s just a kid, Dean. Just put him out of his misery, will ya?”
Dean’s back tensed, but he didn’t reply.
Watching Ravi, George wondered when it would come out that he knew the boy. Had Dean already twigged?
When Ravi looked up, he realized George was watching him. Physically sinking, he then looked away. How long would it be before everything unravelled? George needed to make sure he’d found Sally by then.
Waiting around, George saw Ravi lock his friend up and return the keys to Dean. At that same moment, Ginge and Jason returned.
“Anything?” Dean asked.
Shaking his head, Ginge shrugged. “They’ve all gone.”
While scratching his chin, Dean looked around them. “Good. I need you and Jason to stay out here tonight with Ravi. We can’t have one person on guard anymore.”
Ginge nodded. He was a good soldier. Jason frowned at Ravi.
Looking over at the cage with the women in it, Dean chewed his bottom lip. Rubbing his crotch, his usual filthy smile returned. “All of this drama has made me restless. I need someone to lift my spirits now.”
The women withdrew as one.
The smile slid from Dean’s face at their reaction. Searching the women in the cage, he pointed. “You.”
George’s stomach lurched when Liz put her hand on her chest. “Me?”
Before George could speak, Dean shook his head. “No, not you. The new woman. The one with the huge titties.”
It was the woman who had told George of the girl’s experience at the hands of Dean’s gang. It was only now that he noticed the younger of the two sisters was back in the cage. She looked worse than her sibling with her dishevelled hair, cut lips and distant eyes. Glancing at Ginge, George balled his hands into fists. Nasty cunt.
Wagging a finger at Dean, the curvy woman said, “No. No fucking way.”
“It ain’t a question. If it takes four of us to drag you up there and strap you to the bed, then that’s what we’ll do, but you’re coming. I can be kind if you can be compliant.”
George watched on as as her lip bent out of shape.
Walking over to the cage, Dean unlocked the door and clicked his fingers at her. “Come on, love.”
Looking at the two girls, the woman got off the truck, gasping when Dean pushed the hammer between her legs. “I can be nice, or I can be nasty.” Leaning closer, he spoke in a breathy drawl that made her recoil. “Real fucking nasty. How I am depends entirely on you.”
One sharp yank could liberate the hammer, and George could cave Dean’s skull in before he’d blinked. But that wasn’t the problem. Ending Dean would be easy, but what about Sally?
The woman’s head dropped, and her shoulders bounced with the sobs that rippled through her.
After locking the cage, Dean led her to the tower block and spat on John’s corpse as he passed him. “Fucking pussy.”
The woman shrieked when she looked down at the dead man. Now his hands had fallen away, the long wound on his neck was much easier to see. The moonlight lit the dark, glistening gash, and the horror of his death was evident on his stretched face.
There were just four men left outside, five if you included John. Ravi, Ginge, Jason, and George. The silence was suffocating.
For a moment, George didn’t move. He stood staring at Ravi until the boy looked up. They held each other’s glares for about thirty seconds before George shook his head. He then followed Dean into the block, stepping over the maimed corpse on the way in.
Burn Baby Burn
George’s eyes flashed open and he gasped for breath. With his pulse pounding and his vision swimming, he tried to look around his room. Everything was as it should be. So why did he feel like it wasn’t?
The cold had turned his nose and ears numb. Pulling his covers close, he groaned, his heavy limbs willing him to remain in bed.
Frothy saliva had built up in his mouth overnight. When he swallowed, he could taste tar. Sniffing did nothing to stop his nose from running.
The strong winter sun pierced the gap in his curtains, hitting the wall just above his head with the certainty of a laser beam. When he rubbed his face, everything ached.
The odd feeling he’d woken with suddenly made sense. It was morning, and he couldn’t hear a thing. There were that many people in the block that someone was usually walking up and down the stairs at any one point. But there was nothing.
Had they gone on a raid without him?
No, not without the food truck.
But where were the keys?
Sitting up so quickly his head spun, George grabbed his jeans from the floor and fished the keys from the pocket.
Staring at them, he shrugged. Where the fuck is everyone?
With aching muscles, a sour taste in his mouth, stinging eyes, and the thick damp of his room clogging his sinuses, George decided to stand up. Anything would make him feel better than he currently did.
When his bare feet hit the cold, tiled floor, all of the muscles in his body tensed, and he drew a sharp breath. No matter how many times he got out of bed in this place, he was always surprised by just how icy the floor got.
Placing a hand on his chest, his heart thumping against his palm, he took several breaths, the cold air biting into his lungs.
Lifting his hands to rub his face, he noticed the slight traces of dried blood still there.
Taken from his thoughts by a loud knock on the door, George jumped and looked up. The shot of adrenaline quickened his breath, so he allowed it to settle as he stared.