Текст книги "Boston Blood"

Автор книги: Louis Samways

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Twenty Seven

Crystal had been sitting in silence now for a good thirty minutes, unsure what to say to her best friend who in her eyes had just gone against every principle that she thought they lived by. Crystal never thought of herself as a prude of such but more of a level headed person. She always made sure that Jenifer and her friends made the right decisions. She always took it upon herself to make sure that her friends never made any detrimental mistakes, mistakes that could cause them future harm. She saw it all too often, young bright women who had it all going for them, a future that consisted of more than just getting by. She hated when the people she knew threw everything away just for cheap thrills and eighteen years of responsibly. You could say that’s why Crystal has only ever been in one intimate relationship. That being said, she was with him for five years until she realized that the guy she was with had been playing the field behind her back. That’s probably the reason why she felt so strongly about putting her career first and sexual appetite second.

Jenifer was sitting across from Crystal, trying to avoid eye contact with her friend. She knew how Crystal would react, she knew her all too well. She turned her head to the left to see Jason dozing off in his chair next to her. Jenifer finally gathered the strength needed and turned her head to face Crystal who by now was staring a hole into her. Crystal signalled Jenifer to get up and follow her. She did. Crystal got up and made her way to the toilets, closely followed by Jenifer. They both reached the toilet cubicles and Jenifer followed her friend into the cubicle. Crystal locked the door behind her and turned to Jenifer who looked on nervously at her.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Crystal whispered in a harsh tone to her friend.

Jenifer started smiling while shaking her head in a disapproving fashion.

‘I can do what I like; I don’t need permission from you Crystal.’

‘That’s beside the point. You don’t know this guy from anywhere. Let alone who he has slept with or what sort of guy he is.’

Jenifer yet again shows her disapproval of the conversation with a tainted chuckle that angers Crystal even more.

‘Say what you want to say, but what happened…. happened. End of story.’

‘What did happen?’

Jenifer laughs once again.

‘The best sex I’ve had in a while. Now that’s saying something.’

Crystal’s and Jenifer’s voices were muffled on the other side of the door as Jason pressed his ear against the cubicle to listen intently. At the sound of their voices he smiled a sinister yet goofy smile. A smile that could stop a person in his tracks, a smile that could make you questions the sanity of the person wearing it. His eyes grew even wider with every word that flowed out of both girls mouths. His lips grew even dryer, prompting him to lick them as a lion licks his before devouring his prey.

 

 

Twenty Eight

‘Yeah it’s me Jacob. I got a problem; I need that hardware that you promised me. Okay, I’ll meet you there in a bit. I’ll drive down. I’m going to be in a Ford Capri.’

The phone goes dead as Frank puts it back into his coat pocket. He takes a sip of his Starbucks medium cup whipped late with extra sprinkles. Frank looks down at his cardboard cup that’s seeping with foam that’s trickling down the sides.  He surveys the heavily packed Starbucks that’s overflowing with customers and commotion as he remains idle. Observing his surroundings from his corner table, he smiles to himself as he witnesses the farm like behaviour of the people in Starbucks. He envisions the chaos with a smile as people are rushing around ordering coffee, serving coffee, and eating overpriced cakes and sandwiches. He notices how people are clamouring for seats and tables at the establishment. He wonders why it was so easy for him to get a seat at Starbucks.

It wasn’t his badge; he had thrown that into a waste bin at the incident building. So people are not being courteous to him because of his profession. It baffles him, and then it starts to eat at him. Frank’s hand starts to twitch as he’s holding his cup of coffee. He notices it immediately and quickly shoots his hand underneath the table so no one notices his strange behaviour. The whole place is chaotic in the sense of the usual lunchtime rush hour, but the day’s events had left a very eerie atmosphere in Boston, Frank felt it on the streets and he also felt it in the coffee shop. The backtracking thought of him managing to gain a seat so easily on this day was still eating at him. He could not put his finger on it until he turned his head slightly from surveying the front of house.

Frank notices a little girl staring at him. Her stare draws a bigger hole in Frank’s sole than any other stare he had previously witnessed. The little girl who had plain features but stood out with her pale skin and bright red hair was still staring at Frank while accompanying a scornful smirk on her face, but distilled sadness in her eyes. The girl quickly turns to her mother who’s sitting right next to her and shakes her arm to get her attention. The mother who was busy talking to a passer-by turned around and asked her daughter what was wrong, not with words but a look. The littler girl turns to face Frank’s direction yet again, and then ominously points square in the direction of where Frank is sitting. The mother looks at Frank and as soon as her eyes meet his, she quickly grabs her girl and rushes out of the coffee shop, leaving Frank in shock of what he’s seeing.

‘What the fuck was her problem?’ He asks himself quietly, or so he thought, as a few dozen people stare at him in shock of his outburst. He shakes his head in frustration and downs his lukewarm late. He grabs his cigarettes that lay on the table next to his empty cup. Frank stands up and walks across the Starbucks seating area towards the men’s toilets, his hands are in his pocket rustling his pill container,  his sole’s succumbing to the seductive sound of rattling, he breaths in deeply as he reaches the toilet door and he stares at the stick man figure on it, his heart races hard and fast as he opens the door and enters the toilets. By now his pills have found their way to his hand, and as soon as the door closes behind him, they have found their way to his mouth.

 

 

Twenty Nine

Eddie smith is pacing up and down in his temporary office at the incident room. His pacing was being witnessed by Chief Shaw who was sitting down on a chair facing the DA’s desk. Eddie was pacing behind Shaw but the chief was catching the reflection of the DA’s nervous strides on a mirror that was stacked behind Eddie’s desk, on top of some large cardboard boxes that were acting as the mirrors support braces. The relentless pace of the DA carried on for a few more minutes while Shaw remained seated in silence. Eddie then stopped dead in the center of the room and shook his head firmly in disgust.

‘SHIT!’ Eddie yelled

His pacing continued

‘How the hell did this happen? How the hell did I not see he was unstable?’ Eddie yelled once more

Chief Shaw remained seated, by now he was looking at the DA’s reflection in the mirror, the anger in the DA’s eyes were evident in the brimstone tone that accompanied every word that came out of his mouth at that moment in time. The DA’s pace grew ever quicker, while Shaw just sat back in his seat letting Eddie vent out his frustrations.

‘I was good to him! I let him come back…. I insisted he came back…..To save him. Now I find out about his visit to Tasha’s bed today of all days! Is he that stupid to think that sleeping with a key witness would fly with me? Did he honestly think that I would just never find out? Obviously it pissed Connor Chase off something rotten and now I have to deal with the fallout. Guess it’s fitting, seeing the District Attorney of Boston Massachusetts has nothing better to do then file a warrant out for the arrest of Frank McKenzie, my best friend and the best detective working in this department! It’s not like there isn’t any other warrants needing my attention, because Boston has only had one crime in the past 38 hours.’  Eddie smith vents sarcastically

Chief Shaw smiles at Eddie as he turns around to finally face his distraught boss.

‘Has there really only been one crime since Chase stated this thing?’ Shaw asks

Eddie smith shakes his head in annoyance at the Chief of police’s question.

‘No of course there hasn’t! All violent assaults and robberies have been put on hold, orders from Chase and his followers! Don’t be naive Shaw. I’ve had over ten warrants being asked for since this case started. It’s all fallout from this shit storm of a case. The mayor wants to ask the president to issue a state of emergency, but I fear it will only make the situation worst. We have had seven murders in the past twenty nine hours. That’s ten per cent of what we usually get a year, murder wise we look at about three murders a fortnight even that is a heavy case load if you want to do right by the victim and their families by solving the case and giving closure to the associates of the victim. On top of the mindless assaults that have happened, we have had a tremendous amount of looting going on. This thing with Chase is causing more than a ripple now; it’s starting to strain our police force and fire and rescue teams. We need to lock down this thing now, or we could be in the shit.’

Chief Shaw gets up from his seat and faces the DA

‘We can’t do that sir.’ Says Shaw

‘Why not, I don’t see the big problem here. We go in, get them. That’s it. What’s the hold up?’

‘It’s a little more complicated than that sir. Our intelligence suggests that they have every exit booby trapped with explosives. Not to mention they have sentries stationed everywhere in the building, all armed with automatic weaponry and explosives.’

Eddie shakes his head disapprovingly.

‘Intelligence, what fucking intelligence would that be?’

Shaw turns back to face the mirror in the clunky office

‘Intelligence from the units stationed on the ground, outside of the M.I.T building.’

The DA starts laughing, much to the annoyance of Chief Shaw

‘How can they possibly know if there are sentries in the building, and that they have booby trapped the entrances and exits. Is there something you’re not telling me? Or cant my Harvard educated brain distinguish bullshit from ballistics?’

Shaw looks down at the floor intently as if to disguise something.

‘No sir. You know everything you need to know’ He says quietly

‘Well good, because I wouldn’t want to be in the position of the person trying to swindle a Washington appointed District Attorney out of valuable information that he has every legal right in knowing.’

The room goes silent; the DA smiles and walks out of the room as if his point was made more valid by the absence of his presence.

Chief Shaw remains seated, looking down at the floor intently trying to figure out something in his head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He starts going through the phones menus until he reaches the SMS menu. He punches in a text. He quickly types out the words and hits send, all within about thirty seconds, as if he wants the message out there as quickly as possible. He stares bleakly at the LCD screen until it read “MESSAGE SENT”

He scrolls down to the sent box and re reads the message he just sent for clarity.

“Hourly report A.S.A.P”

Shaw puts the cell phone back in his pocket and gets up from his seat. He spots a pack of cigarettes on the DA’s desk and swipes a cigarette out of the pack. He lights it up and throws the pack back onto the mahogany desk and walks out of the office.

Thirty

A flashing light goes off accompanied by the unmistakable hum of the vibration that rattles the cell phone violently, nearly twisting it in a three hundred and sixty degree rotation on top of the operating table. Nathan quickly grabs the vibrating phone off the table and reads the text message on it. He looks around nervously and quickly shuffles the cell into his inside bomber jacket pocket. He looks down at John who had come through at the sound of the vibrating phone that’s near his head on the table he’s tied down to. He looks up at Nathan with a half-smile, his face covered in blood from the previous beating he had received at the hands of Nathan and the guard.

‘So much for I ‘m not going to knock you out John, I promise’ John says

Nathan smiles down at the man.

‘I know I’m sorry about that. It’s just if I did not do anything then it would look bad on me and blow my cover.’

John’s eyes widen

‘So you’re a cop! I knew it; you’re here to save us all!’

Nathan shakes his head

‘No I’m not a cop! I would appreciate it if you don’t blurt out shit like that seeing you’re going to get me killed, and then I can’t control what happens to you can I?’

John nods his head in agreement; a slight embarrassed look accompanies his apologetic smile.

‘Sorry sir.’

Nathan smiles

‘Call me Nathan. Look don’t worry, everything is going to be okay. I’ll get you out of here, I promise.’

‘How are you going to do that have you got any plans?’

‘I’ve always got a plan. Thankfully, I’m not the only one trying to help you and the people who work here. There is a heavy police presence surrounding the building. SWAT is here, and helicopters are flying above us. So there is no way any one is getting out of here without being shot or rescued.’

John puts on a brave face.

‘Shot or rescued it is then’

‘Don’t worry John I’ll get you out of here, you’ve just got to sit tight at the minute and wait for everything to be set in motion. In the meantime you need to tell me everything you could possibly know about this place and why everyone is being held hostage and why most importantly you are the only one being tortured.’

‘Like I said I don’t know. I’m just the janitor.’

Nathan pats John on the shoulder to comfort him.

The door to the torture room abruptly opens and the guard from the previous time comes rushing in, heavy framed and heavy footed. He slams the door behind him and turns to face Nathan who is caught unexpectedly standing over the bed in a casual manner. He hurtles towards Nathan with his fists clenched to his sides.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ the guard shouts

‘Nothing…’

Before Nathan can finish the man interrupts him

‘Exactly, you’re doing nothing. I set you a task and you’re standing here doing nothing. The prisoner is awake, did I not say to carry on the interrogation once he wakens?’

‘Yes you did, and I have been. He hasn’t given me anything useful. He says he is just the janitor. Maybe we have the wrong man.’

John remains spread out on the operating table. He starts to breathe in sporadically while trying to keep his nerve. The chains around his wrists have grated into his skin; the blood running down his arms from his wounds have turned a dark brownie colour abrasively scabbing over.

The guard smiles, his tense hands remain at his sides

‘We may have the wrong man indeed. But your opinion is not important here, you were given an order and you disobeyed.’

‘I did what you asked, I found nothing.’

The guard smiles once more. His yellow teeth are gleaming through his tight bloodless lips.

‘Well if that’s the truth then maybe you’re right, maybe we don’t need him anymore. If he hasn’t got anything useful to tell us then I don’t think we need him.’ Before Nathan can do anything and John could say anything, the guard walks up to the table where John is shackled and pulls out a hand gun, all of which seemed to be running in slow-motion for Nathan, as the guard raises his arm and places the barrel of the 9MM firmly on Johns head, as John’s eyes drifted back to face the guard looking down at him, the heavy set man fires the gun at point blank range into his forehead. The jolting action the weapon makes as the recoil springs the guards arm a few Milometers up from its shooting position is accompanied by a faint but vibrant muzzle flash that lights the dimly lit room, the light ricochets off the metallic surface of the bed and is soon replaced with an explosion of red that find its way out of John’s skull. Shades of his life are now plastered all over the floor just below his head that now hangs off the operating table.  Blood had sprayed all up the Guards arm and now drips off the guns barrel, as the guard turns to face Nathan who is wide eyed with shock, the slow-motion that had commenced earlier  had now abruptly hankered itself out and was replaced by the image of the guard’s fist landing square in the middle of Nathans face.

Thirty One

The year 2006 : SIX YEARS BEFORE BOARDING THE TRAIN

‘Okay class. Its two weeks before graduation so I thought we would just have a discussion about what everyone plans on doing after high school. Will you go to college or will you get a job? I want a serious class discussion! No innuendos or mentioning of illegal practises, let’s keep it clean and positive.’  Mrs Gardener said

The classroom is filled with around 30 students, all them have excitement peppered on their faces. Mrs Gardener stands at the front of the class in a short but classy dress; her legs are tanned, they are sporting some knee high black boots. She wore a white thrilled blouse that was buttoned up. Some would say she looked good for her age, being 39; she was still able to make 18 year old boy’s pay attention in class. Albeit they were most likely paying attention to her, and not at what she was saying.

Jason Bordello was sitting down at his desk at the back of the class, which was usually reserved for the troublemakers of the classroom. Mrs Gardener adhered to a strict code where she believed that the students are less likely to shout out obscenities of any nature from the back, out of the spotlight of the classes glaring eyes. She was under the impression that the boys in her class were disruptive because of one reason and one reason only. Her name was Stephanie Pollard. She was a cheerleader for the schools undergraduate football team. The Scorchers haven’t won a game in a while, but every boy in the school loved and worshiped that young lady. She was blonde and had a body that most MTV music videos would cast, and most Porn directors would hire. Stephanie knew her place in the world, well she knew where she believed she should be in the world, and that was right at the top.

Jason Bordello was not made to sit at the back with the delinquents; he chose to sit at the back of the classroom, it was his decision. That had always surprised Mrs Gardener, but she thought nothing of it seeing that Jason’s work was adequate for a pass grade and his domineer was quiet, both in the classroom and out of it. She never saw him as a troublemaker of such, more of a quiet rouge. She would always catch him looking at her with his deep steel cold blue eyes, she sometimes looked back, but it never manifested into anything more than that.

Today Mrs Gardener noticed the class were less enthusiastic about the task at hand. She could empathize with them, seeing it was nearing the end of semester. She thought of a way to energize the predominantly male classroom.

‘Okay class, I can see that most of you are tiered, but I’m telling you this will be a great way of marking down your futures. After all, graduation is around the corner and that can only mean one thing; you are all growing up! I’m sure some of you will end up going to college and others have made jobs waiting for them, I’m interested in hearing what everyone will be getting up to. This will be the last couple of weeks that many of you will see each other, it would be nice to know what our friends are going to get up to once we are no longer in their lives anymore.’

A student butts in

‘We’re not dying Mrs Gardner’

Mrs Gardner laughs

‘I know Trent. It’s just I’m going to miss all of you’

She starts to cry a little. Mrs Gardener makes sure to wipe the tears away so her classroom full of students don’t see her being emotional.

‘We are all dying’ Jason says quietly. His voice sending a chill down the room, all the way from the back of the classroom, he sat in his chair, slumped over his desk twiddling a pencil.

Mrs Gardener looks down at him, as do the rest of the class. He sits up in his seat, and stretches out. He looks at the room full of eyes staring at him blankly.

‘What?’ He says

‘There’s no need for that sort of negativity Jason’ Mrs Gardener says

Jason starts laughing. The chill down the room is met with an ice like dagger of cackling.

‘There’s nothing negative about the truth. You people live in this bubble of goo and think the world is made of marshmallows and green pillows. The world is not paved with gold. People die horrific deaths every day and the only thing you people are worried about is what half assed job we are going to get when we leave this shithole. There is no dream job or college. Harvard is just a building, just because Bill Gates went there does not mean if you attend, you will have your own Microsoft one day. Life is about hardship and struggle. That’s what makes a man. That’s what makes a woman. You can’t build character on good living. Character is built through stressful times of pain and sorrow. Not Saturdays at the mall at a 75% off sale. Nor are they built on fairy tales of happily ever after and once upon a time. People need to stop thinking about the good that will happen to them, and start thinking about the greater good that they can create. Life is not about what you get out of it, but what you give it. To answer your question Mrs Gardener, I will be making a difference however I can. Be it good or bad, as long as I make my mark on this world, I will die a happy man. So enjoy your spring breaks, your student loans and your so called education. Because before you know it, you would have learnt everything you did not need to know, and missed out on the only thing you need know. Don’t fucking take notice of what other people are doing, because before you know it everyone will be doing it and it will be old news. Be unique, be the originator. Make sure your slice of apple pie is humble enough that everyone wants a bite.’

The classroom is silent at the result of Jason’s speech. The silence stems on for a while more until the class erupts in cheers and applause. The smile on Mrs Gardner’s face is wider than any one has ever seen before.  The ice cold look of steel is momentarily gone from Jason’s eyes as he sits half grinning at his ovation while spinning his pencil on the table with one hand.