Daygo's Fury (6 page)

Liam dashed out, quick as a cat, and sank his knife into the thigh of the nearest runner. He kept a firm grip on the knife as it sliced across bone, pulling it back towards him, making sure that he didn’t lose his dagger with the falling man. It was a quick and accurate thrust, in and out in a second. The man went down screaming. Blood flicked across the pathway.

The other jumped away in shock, falling to a stop a couple of yards from Calum. Liam didn’t wait, darting towards him. As he turned to face the threat of Liam, fumbling for the knife he had strapped to his waist, Calum jumped forward from behind.

He came in low, keeping himself out of reach, and sank his own blade into the man’s calf. The man screamed in pain like his compatriot and fell to one knee. Turning his back to the wall behind him, he finally managed to grasp his dagger and slashed out wildly twice in the direction of both boys, but they were well out of reach now. They both took a few steps back, keeping their distance from the men.             

Blood spurted in quick jettisons from the first man as he held his thigh between his hands, trying to stem the bleeding with his sleeve. The second’s wound was less serious; he glared about him with eyes wide in panic, one hand firmly on his knife, the other, staining red, held to his calf.

Liam looked at Calum, meeting his eyes. They nodded as one and turned, running away in different directions, leaving both men holding wounds on the ground between them. Liam knew they wouldn’t follow now, wounded and stunned at what had happened to them. They had never expected such an unannounced and swift attack.

When Liam and Calum had to leave in different directions such as this, they had decided that they would always meet at the nearest intersection of the two streets closest to them.

As Liam came out from the alleyway onto a street he turned left, as Calum would have turned right. They met each other at the corner and laughed, clasping hands.

“Come on!” said Calum, raising the bottle. “We need to celebrate after that!” They both laughed.

They jogged along until they were at the edge of Ratville, finding the collapsed and abandoned building they had noticed a week beforehand.

Liam wondered idly if there were still bodies buried beneath the rubble. They climbed past the heap at the front and walked over what used to be a wall to a door in the corner of what was now a ceiling-less room. The wood of the door scraped over stone and dust as Liam dragged it open. He was just able to make an opening large enough for the two of them to squeeze past. Inside, as they had discovered before, was an enclosed, half-collapsed room. The ceiling extended just over half-way out where it was met by an inrushing of concrete and rubble.

Liam felt sure the ceiling above him was not secure but paid it no mind as he sat against the rubble in the corner, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his feet out before him. Calum found a large concrete stone and dragged it over to the side of the one good wall, where he sat upon it.

They talked for a time, passing the bottle back and forth. For some reason, Liam started to think about the girls who lived with them in the flat.

“What do you think will happen to the girls? Rai and Aibreann?” asked Liam.

Calum turned the bottle in his hands, staring into its liquid for a time. “What do you think?”

Liam shook his head, looking away. “I’m glad I’m a man.”

Calum nodded, handing the bottle to Liam. He took a strong swig.

“We’ll probably end up paying for them in a few years,” said Calum.

“No,” said Liam, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Calum shrugged. “Some girls just like them so, from the next street maybe.” He took the bottle back. “Shit, we’ll probably end up being their pimps.” Liam looked back to him and sighed. Calum met his eyes for a moment. “There are worse jobs.”

“Ya …” Liam agreed. “How’d it go the other day?” The morning before the meeting with Carrick, Calum had been working for the gang. Looking at Calum’s scar, Liam remembered the day he was initiated and repressed a shudder. Liam still had no ‘in’ with the gang but he knew that once Calum got a foothold within the matis that he wouldn’t be long getting him in. At the moment, he mostly did the work with Carrick and himself.

“Just spotting,” replied Calum. “Turns out there wasn’t much to spot. Got chatting to a girl while I was sittin’ around waitin’ though. Nice big baps, not as good as Layla’s, but I might get a go on them for free tonight if I’m lucky!”

“Really?” asked Liam, jealous. How was Calum finding all of these girls?

“Ya, she said that she was free tonight if I was around. It’s a bit of a trek but I figure once I get this into me,” he hefted the bottle of satti, “it’ll seem like no distance. When I’m there I’ll ask her if she has a friend for ye.” He grinned. Liam nodded in thought.

“I met a girl yesterday,” said Liam, “when I got the bread. It was weird. The baker wasn’t around so I just hopped in but I couldn’t open the oven door, and then this girl shouted out of nowhere and told me how to do it. Turned out the baker was her uncle or something.”

“Ye should go to see her tonight, when I’m off to this Sandra, see if ye can get a grope,” Calum suggested.

“Ya!” Liam agreed, reaching for the bottle of satti as his heart began to pound, and taking a big swig.

“That’s it! A toast!” cried Calum, lifting the bottle into the air, “to the two of us headin’ out to fuck two women all night!” Liam laughed as Calum finished the bottle. He could feel his confidence grow as he stood up.

They both stood and walked back outside. It was just after dark. The slums were lit by moonlight and the occasional flickering of candles inside shuttered windows. There was a gloomy, dangerous air to the slums at night time.

Liam figured that he would have to hurry if he was to make it to the bakery before the whole street shut up for the night. He bade farewell to Calum and broke into a slightly unsteady jog. He felt a bit tipsy, but not as drunk as he had been the last time.

Indeed, by the time he made it to Baker’s Corner the street was by and large closed for business. He eyed the baker’s store. The door was closed but there was still light flickering from underneath it. He settled himself on the floor across the street.

He sat a couple of feet from a homeless bum. He spared him only a short glance. The man was wrapped in his old and filthy rags. The temperature was dropping now that the sun had gone in, but it was still late summer and it would remain tepid all night. The bum wouldn’t be cold this night. He sniffled and wiped his nose. Liam turned away.

The stink of the street gutters seemed to be growing each day, yet even as it did, Liam’s nose adjusted, only noticing it on occasion. Perhaps it was the sight of the bum that led him to realising it at that moment.

Liam noticed three men walking down the street towards them. As they came closer, he recognised them as enforcers, the matis’ men, charged with beating up anyone who went against matis rule.

They looked in Liam’s direction as they strolled past but Liam only stared back. They spared him but a glance. They wore heavy wooden clubs and large knives at their sides, hanging from their belts. They walked, as one, with aggressive, cocky strides. Apart from them and the occasional bum, the street was empty.

Liam looked back towards the baker’s door. Faint candle light still flickered underneath it, suggesting that they were still working inside, perhaps cleaning the room out. Candles did not come cheap and were rarely wasted.

Suddenly, the door opened slightly. Liam sat up and squinted in its direction. His vision seemed slightly unfocused, but he thought he saw a girl’s face peeking out.

He was proven right as a second later the door opened wider and a slender girl appeared. She carried a large wooden bucket with a metal handle. She took a step outside and put the bucket down to close the door behind her. She gave a quick glance up and down the street before picking the bucket up once more. She seemed to struggle with the weight of it as she hauled it to the pit at the end of the street.

Liam got up, suddenly a little hesitant. He walked across the road towards her. She looked up as he came close, a challenge on her face. He put up his hands.

“It’s only me,” he said.

“Who are
you?
” she asked.

Liam caught himself for a moment stupidly. “Ahh … from yesterday. I stole the bread. You helped me.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment, still holding the bucket up with her hands.

“Amm … I wanted … to, ah, say thanks.”

“Oh, ah, alright,” she said. She seemed to be struggling to hold the bucket up, so Liam hopped over to her.

“Here, I’ll take that,” he said and reached for the bucket. She pulled it back a little as he did so and stumbled backwards, dropping the bucket on the ground, the contents sloshing over the side. Liam laughed, and she gave him an angry look.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

“Everything,” she said, wrinkling her nose and rubbing at her dress where some of the liquid splashed.

“I’ll take it,” he said and lifted the bucket up. It was heavy and seemed to be filled with a lumpy, thick mixture, all dark grey in the dark. He waddled over to the edge of the street with it, trying to pretend that he didn’t find it heavy at all. She was forced to follow behind him and he heard her laughing.

“What?” he said, dropping the bucket at the street corner and turning around with a smile.

“Nothing,” she said and started laughing again. Then he noticed the swelling around her eye. It was badly bruised.

“What happen’d yer eye?” he asked. She stopped laughing then and raised a hand to touch lightly at the bruise.

“My uncle did it to me,” she said.

Liam felt himself get angry. “Why?” he demanded.

She looked at him and seemed to be weighing up her answer. “I … because I let you steal the bread.” She looked apologetic for saying it and then suddenly angry.

Liam was taken aback. “Why did you help me?” The question popped out. It was something he had been wondering about for the last two days. It seemed so strange to him. No one had ever
helped
him steal from them before.

She seemed to be cross at him but only shrugged.

“Are you going to empty the bucket too?” she asked after a moment, pointing to it.

“Ya.” He turned and grabbed the bucket at the top and bottom, intending to lift it up and turn it, dumping it’s contents into the pit in one smooth movement. He heaved and lifted the bucket, turning it at the same time. As he turned it, the weight shifted, pulling him along after it. He kept a hold of the bucket as he stumbled forwards. Then, at the last moment, as he realised he was going to fall, he dropped the bucket and leaped in desperation for the other side of the pit. The bucket fell into the pit, splashing up its contents.

“Oh for fuck sake!” he shouted as he landed on the other side. She burst out laughing behind him. Liam sat up and looked at her as she bent double. He found himself smiling stupidly.

“Lost me balance,” he said, and she started all over again. Liam laughed as well. He looked at her and felt amazed by her. She seemed to be lacking something. That edge that everyone else in the slums had. That hard edge. That bit of anger or resentment. The … predators’ look. The sizing look, to decide if you were a friend or foe, if you were weak for the taking or strong enough to stand up for yourself. She seemed to look at him … blankly, without judgement.

He suddenly felt full of life and excitement. He was giddy with good feeling. He jumped up on his feet and gave a bow. For once, not feeling as though he needed to be on the defensive.

“What about the bucket?” she pointed, smiling. He looked down at it and grimaced. It lay face down on the pile of waste in the middle of the pit.

“I’ll hold your arm so you don’t fall in,” she laughed.

“Okay.” Liam walked over to her side of the pit once more. He stood out on the edge and put out his arm. She grabbed it with both of her hands. Liam relished the touch. He bent down on his knees and reached in for the bucket, feeling her pull against him from the other direction. He grabbed a hold of the lid.

“Okay, pull,” Liam said, looking back over his shoulder with a smile. She pulled and he pulled and they went stumbling backwards, tangling their arms around each other as they hit the ground awkwardly.

He could feel her breast press against his back as he lay uncomfortable atop her. Still, he would rather uncomfortably stay there than change position. Her leg was underneath his. He could feel the warmth of her body as she laughed against him. She started to shift and so did he, untangling themselves. Her lips brushed the back of his neck lightly as she moved and he felt the moist heat of her breath.

She put her hands on his back and pushed herself up to a sitting position. It felt as though there were warm dents left where she had pressed. He turned to the side and sat facing her. She smiled back at him.

“That was fun,” he said. The bucket lay beside him, turned over on its side. She giggled for a moment as she got up and patted herself down.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly as he got up too, the question popping into his head.