“Look, I have a plan.”
“What is it?”
“You need to storm the tower block.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. This time with more of the boys. Overrun the place and take your pick of whatever you want. We have a huge supply of food.”
Wanting to get up and smash the boy’s face in, George clenched his jaw and remained where he was.
“If you do it in the next day or two, I’m sure Freddie will be fine.”
The hoodie rubbed his chin. “I can’t get the boys together straight away. We need a little bit of time.”
“Okay, man. Well how about we meet back here in two days to plan it?”
The boy nodded. “You’d best make sure that Freddie’s okay in the meantime. I’ll hold you personally responsible if he’s not.”
“I can’t keep him safe forever.”
George shook his head. You can’t keep him safe at all, you delusional prick.
“If you want to make sure he’s going to be all right, you need to be ready to take the block sooner rather than later.”
The knife was out again, the six-inch blade levelled at Ravi’s face. “Don’t put this on me. This is fucked because you took the wrong fucking guy.”
Ravi didn’t respond, and after a few seconds of staring at one another, the hoodie walked away.
As George watched Ravi follow him, he knew two things. One: In two days, he would have to be ready to leave the tower block. Two: He wouldn’t have to do a thing about Ravi. There was no way Freddie would still be alive by the time they stormed the block. The hoodie would deal with the little prick himself.
Another Cold Night
When George stepped out of the building, Naps was already waiting outside. Walking over to him, George clapped his hands together and rubbed them. Cupping his mouth, he blew hard, his warm breath turning to steam as it spilled from the gaps in his hands. “It’s fucking freezing.”
When Naps didn’t reply, George sniffed the air. The smell of smoke had died down. Maybe there were less fires in the city? Thinking about Zach, George blinked against the slight sting that spread over his eyeballs and stared into the night. “It’s fucking dark too.”
Naps finally spoke, slurring his word as if his tongue were too big for his mouth. “Torch?”
Stepping closer, George balked at how swollen Naps’ face was. The man was also swaying slightly. Looking first at his glazed eyes and then the torch that he was holding out, George shook his head. “I’d try to avoid using that if I were you. Not only will it light you up like a fucking Christmas tree, but you won’t be able to see fuck all after you’ve used it. If those pricks come back again, you need your night vision working so you can see exactly where they are.”
Staring at him as if he’d just spoken in another language, Naps reverted to silence.
“Still feeling that whack from earlier, eh?”
There was no light in his droopy eyes.
Looking past the man, George then pointed at the deck chair by the tower block. “Why don’t you take a seat, mate? Rest up a while.”
Watching him stumble over to it on unsteady feet, Naps then flopped into the chair, and George shook his head again. Hopefully, a rest was all he needed. There was little compassion in George’s heart for any of his fellow gang members, but Naps was one of the least offensive of the bunch. It would have been much nicer to see Ginge in this state.
After about ten minutes, the door to the block flew open, and Ravi stepped outside. Glancing at his imaginary watch, George then looked up at the boy.
Either oblivious to George’s irritation or choosing to ignore it, Ravi dug his hands into his armpits. “Fucking hell, bruv, it’s brass monkeys out here.” Stopping to look at Naps, he pulled his hands out again and clapped twice at him. “Oi, wake up.”
“Leave him be.”
Shrugging, Ravi walked away from the drowsy man with a grin spread across his stupid face. Throwing a hooked thumb over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. “Has he pissed himself yet?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Naps! You know why they call him Naps, right?”
George stared at him.
“Give him a pint or two, and he’ll piss the bed the second he falls asleep.”
George still didn’t respond.
The smile fell from Ravi’s face. “Suit yourself.” Continuing past George, he walked over to the gate.
Within ten paces, the night had enveloped him, and he was no more than a silhouette.
Hugging himself for warmth, George shook his head. He then spun in a slow circle, the arctic wind burning his exposed face. Stopping to look at Naps, the steam coming from his nose showing that he was still alive, George fished the truck keys from his pocket. The truck unlocked, and the blinking hazard lights momentarily lit up the night like magnesium.
Blinded by the sudden illumination, George stumbled in the direction of his truck. By the time he was next to it, the bright spots in his vision had cleared. When he opened the door, he was dazzled again, this time by the interior light. Fumbling around, he fished out a thick blanket and some crackers.
Wrapping the blanket around Naps, the strong smell of piss coming off the guy, George tucked him in tight.
Turning away from the injured man, George stepped towards the caged women with the crackers and stopped dead when a scream cut through the night. Looking at the gate, George saw there were no intruders. Ravi wasn’t moving other than to look up. It was Freddie that screamed. The light might have been poor, but George could see the unease in Ravi’s twitchy figure.
The boy had made a promise that he had no fucking hope of keeping.
After a few hours of walking the perimeter fence, George checked where Ravi was before moving close to the cage and sliding the crackers through the bars to Liz. “Here, have these.”
Taking the packet, Liz stared at him but didn’t reply, the whites beneath her eyes shining bright on her drawn face, her wavy, auburn hair lank with grease.
Looking down, he stared at the leg on the floor. There were more teeth marks in it. Chewing back the sour sick that lifted into his throat, he looked at Liz again.
Opening the packet, she wore a sneer on her face. “Well, aren’t you the fucking hero? One fucking cracker each! We could have done with your chivalry the other day.” Moving forwards, she pressed her face against the bars. “You could have killed that arsehole and put an end to this.”
With a furrowed brow, he continued to hold eye contact with her. “We’ve been over this already. I’m sorry.” Looking at all of the other women, their mouths working on the crackers, their eyes blank, he bit his bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”
Shaking her head, Liz pointed at the charred, yet undercooked leg on the floor. “Tell that to Marie.”
Turning away, George saw that Ravi’s silhouette was still staring out into the city. “Please be quieter, Liz.” He then looked up at the tower block’s windows. Si had caught them staring at one another. Was he wise to their situation now? Was he watching them?
When he turned back to Liz, his heart hurt at seeing the hatred in her features. “I know me apologizing won’t bring Marie back.” Addressing the two young girls, both of their faces heavy with torment, “But I’m truly sorry.”
Sniffing, the stench of ammonia and excrement hitting both the back of his nose and throat simultaneously, George coughed. Breathing through his mouth, he avoided looking down at the rancid floor again. In the past month, the cage hadn’t been cleaned out once. It was a wonder that more of them hadn’t died from infection.
“Sorry’s just a word, George. It ain’t going to get us out of here.” Liz pointed at the two girls. “It ain’t going to undo the fact that these two have been brutalized.” The younger girl flinched. When she blinked, a tear ran down her face. “Look at them, George. You need to get us the fuck out of here.”