Double Cross (18 page)

'And why should I trust you?'

'Because I'm loyal, hardworking, I do as I'm told. And
I know when to keep my mouth shut.'

'It appears that you do,' McAuley agreed. 'But loyalty is
the most important thing to me.'

'I understand, sir.'

'I hope you do,' said McAuley. 'Because if I find out
that you – or anyone else who works for me – is abusing
my trust, there will be no second chances.'

I got the message, loud and clear.

'If you give me a chance, I won't let you down,' I
replied.

McCauley looked up at Byron, who was still at his side,
and nodded. Byron carefully placed his gun on the desk,
then sauntered towards us.
Trouble.
I watched Byron
approach, knowing that danger was only a couple of steps
away – and counting down. McAuley hadn't believed a
word I'd said and if I left this place in one whole, living
piece it would be a bona fide miracle. Cold sweat pricked
my back and my armpits. What was Byron going to do?
Kill me where I stood? What did McAuley expect me to
do? Fight? Beg? What?

'Mr McAuley, I can vouch for Tobey. He's a good guy,'
Dan said quickly before Byron reached us.

It was a valiant try, but everyone in the room knew that
Dan was wasting his breath. I turned to look at McAuley.
If I was going down, it would be facing him like a man.
Byron stepped behind Dan and me. I held my breath. But
to my surprise, I wasn't Byron's target. Byron grabbed
hold of Dan's arms and pulled them back. Dan cried out
in surprise and more than a little fear. He struggled to get
free, but he was wasting his time. He wasn't going
anywhere. A couple of quick yanks on his arms were
enough to make him yell out in pain, but it had the
desired effect. Dan kept still, whilst Byron stood directly
behind him, still pulling back his arms. I turned back to
McAuley, who was watching me intently.

McAuley pointed to the gun Byron had left on his desk.
'Pick it up.'

I moved forward to do as I was told. The stock was
warm where Byron had been holding it and the gun was
unexpectedly heavy. I adjusted my grip, keeping my finger
well away from the trigger.

'D'you know what kind of weapon that is?' McAuley
asked me.

It was a M1911 Series 70, single action, semiautomatic
handgun, with a single stacked magazine that took seven
.45 calibre ACP bullets, plus one in the chamber – that's
if the thing hadn't been modified to take more.

'It's a gun, sir,' I replied.

'You know your stuff !' said McAuley dryly. 'That
particular gun happens to be a classic. I keep telling Byron
that he should use a more modern firearm, but that gun is
one of his favourites.'

Why was he telling me all this? Like I gave a damn
which toys Byron liked to play with.

'That particular gun is loaded with point four five calibre,
non-expanding, Teflon-coated ball ammunition,' McAuley
told me. 'I have the bullets made especially for me.'

I went to lay the thing back down on the table.

'Tobey, do something for me,' said McAuley silkily.
'Point that gun at Dan and shoot him.'

I must've misheard. 'Pardon?'

'You heard me,' said McAuley.

He picked up his cup of mint tea and started sipping it.
The gun sat awkwardly in my hand as I looked from Dan
back to McAuley. 'You want me to . . . ?'

'Kill your friend.' McAuley's voice was soft and slick as
melted butter.

Dan stared at McAuley, horror-stricken. He struggled
against Byron's python grip in earnest now, but there was
no way Byron was letting him go.

'Well, Tobey?' said McAuley.

'Mr McAuley, please,' Dan pleaded. 'I work for you.
I'm a good worker.'

'You brought a stranger to my house unannounced and
uninvited,' McAuley turned to snap at him. 'Into my
house. You never,
ever
bring anyone here without my
permission, Dan. For that alone, you need sorting.'

'I'm sorry, Mr McAuley. I messed up,' Dan cried out.
'Tobey's my friend. And you offered him a job. I didn't
think it'd do any harm.'

'You didn't think – full stop. You're a fool, Dan, and
that makes you a liability,' McAuley replied. 'Tobey,
either shoot him or give me the gun so I can take care of
business.'

Would I be included in his 'business'?

Probably.

I looked at Dan, who was shaking his head frantically at
me. The gun in my hand was so heavy. My dad had taught
me about guns, before he left. He used to buy all kinds of
gun magazines and he'd sit me on his lap as we looked at
the photos and read the specifications together. Before he
took off. But Dad would never have dreamed of having a
gun in our house or anywhere near it – not a real one. He
had a couple of replicas, but he said it was to study the
engineering behind them. The last time he disappeared,
Mum put the replicas in the bin. That's when I knew he
wasn't coming back. And now I had a real gun in my
hand, loaded with real bullets.

Slowly I raised my hand, pointing the gun straight at
Dan's head.

'Tobey, no. I'm begging you. Don't . . .
Please
. . .' Dan
fought like a wild thing to get out of Byron's grasp, but it
was futile.

Though his lips were a thin immovable slash across his
face, I could tell Byron was enjoying himself by the gleam
in his green eyes.

'Tobey . . . no . . .' Tears streamed down Dan's face. A
dark stain began to spread across the crotch of his lightblue
jeans.

Sorry, Dan.
I lowered my gaze, trying to get it together.
My arm fell to my side. The gun was heavy, so very heavy.

Stretch out my arm.

Hold the gun steady.

If I'm wrong, if I've got it wrong . . .

Take aim, Tobey.

I raised my arm to aim the gun directly at Dan's heart.

'TOBEY, NO!' Dan screamed out.

Legs slightly apart, body braced, I concentrated on just
one face.

And I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Just a click. It dry-fired. No bang.
No boom. No gun recoil. Just a click. The loudest click
in the world. I hardly heard it over the sound of my heart
racing like a jet engine. Byron released Dan, who fell at his
feet in a crumpled heap, still sobbing.

I turned to McAuley, turning the gun round to hand it
back to him by the stock. The slide hadn't even gone back
when I'd fired. 'This gun doesn't work.'

'That gun doesn't have any bullets in it,' McAuley
informed me. He took the gun from me, placing it on the
table. He took another sip of his tea, as we regarded each
other over his cup.

'You definitely remind me of me,' said McAuley. 'I'll
have to keep my eyes on you.'

'Do I get to work for you now, sir?' I asked.

McAuley took out a phone from the top drawer of his
desk and handed it to me along with a charger. He turned
to Dan, looking down on him with utter contempt. 'Dan,
you're lucky you're still useful to me, but if you mess up
again . . .' McAuley turned back to me. 'Keep that phone
with you at all times. I'll be in touch. Now get out and
take your friend with you.'

McAuley wouldn't even let Dan use the bathroom first to
tidy himself up. Byron saw to it that we were out of
McAuley's house less than thirty seconds later. It was
weird leaving the house, like stepping out of reality into a
fantasy world full of sunshine and promises, a world that
felt fake and insincere. A world of people who didn't
know the likes of McAuley existed, mainly because they
didn't want to know. Ignorance provided countless nights
of uninterrupted sleep in a way that knowledge never did.
Once the front door was shut behind us, I took a deep
breath, then another, and another. I'd entered the lion's
den and got out in one piece. This time . . . So why wasn't
my heart battering its way out of my chest? Why wasn't I
puking my guts out? Maybe because my mind was racing
ahead, whilst my body and my heart were stuck in the
Wasteland with Callie. God help me when they caught up
with each other. But until then, I had things to do. I
pulled off my T-shirt and handed it to Dan.

'You can tie that round your waist,' I told him. The
front of his trousers around the zip was still conspicuously
dark blue.

Dan smacked my hand away. I couldn't blame him. He
wiped his hands over his face, but didn't look at me. With
each step away from McAuley, Dan's fear cooled and his
rage towards me grew ever hotter. I could feel it radiating
from him. There was an eruption coming. I put my
T-shirt back on as Dan didn't want it. We turned the
corner of the street and the explosion happened.

Dan shoved me against a wall and pinned me there, his
forearm against my throat. 'You rotten bastard. You tried
to
kill
me.'

'No, I didn't,' I replied as calmly as I could. 'The gun
wasn't loaded.'

Dan pushed down harder on my throat. 'You didn't
know that.'

'Yes, I d-did.' It was hard to get the words out with his
arm pressed against my larynx. 'I knew it was a t-test.' If
he didn't move and soon, I'd have to move him. My
throat was beginning to hurt.

Dan's arm relaxed on my throat, but only slightly.
'How did you know?' Though his arm had relaxed, his
expression hadn't.

'Byron was standing right behind you.'

'So?' Dan hissed at me, his spit spraying my face.

'McAuley said the gun was loaded with point four five
calibre, non-expanding, ball ammunition.'

'So what?'

'If I fired the M1911 at that range, that kind of ammo
would've gone straight through your body and probably
straight through Byron's too. McAuley might not care
about your sorry arse, but he wouldn't risk losing his
minder that way. I knew it had to be a bluff.'

Dan stared at me. He slowly let go of me and stood
back. But he wasn't happy. Far from it.

'You could've warned me.'

'How? McAuley and that Byron guy were standing
right there. I had no choice but to do what I was told.'

'Suppose you'd been wrong?' Dan snapped.

'But I wasn't.'

'But suppose you had been?'

'But I wasn't.'

'You could've killed me,' Dan said, his eyes boring into
mine.

'But I didn't.'

Casting one last fulminating look in my direction, Dan
carried on walking. I fell into step next to him. I buried my
hands in my trouser pockets and kept my eyes straight ahead.
I was very aware of the filthy looks Dan kept giving me.

'What happened to Callie wasn't my fault,' he said
belligerently.

'I never said otherwise.'

'But you blame me.'

'Dan, this is pointless,' I sighed. 'It was just one of those
unforeseen things, that's all.'

'I didn't know what was in that package you delivered
to Louise Resnick,' said Dan. 'I swear I didn't.'

I didn't reply.

'I know you don't believe me, but it's the truth,' he
insisted.

'What makes you think I don't believe you?' I frowned.

'The look in your eyes when you pulled that trigger . . .'
Dan was looking at me like he'd never seen me before.
His words made me start.

'Dan, you're wrong. Besides, no one forced me to
deliver those packages. It was my idea.'

And though we fell back to walking beside each other,
each step took us further apart.

'Dan, you've got to believe me,' I tried. 'I knew the
gun was either not loaded or else it had blanks in it.
Besides, if our positions were reversed, are you telling me
you wouldn't have pulled the trigger?'

'Don't you dare turn this round on me,' Dan raged.
'The point is, our positions weren't reversed.'

'You're the one who said—' I bit back the rest. No
good could come from finishing that sentence.

'What?'

'Nothing.'

Damn, this was so hard. In the space of a few minutes,
everything had changed between us. In the space of a few
days, everything had changed between us. But I still had
to rely on his friendship. I had no choice.

'Dan, will you do something for me?' I asked at last.

'I want to do bugger all for you,' Dan retorted. 'Except
maybe kick your head in.'

'But you'll do this for me anyway.' I smiled faintly.

'What is it?'

'If anything happens to me, make sure my mum and
sister are safe. OK?'

Dan didn't reply. I risked a glance at him. He met my
gaze. Neither of us was smiling. Not even close.

'D'you promise?' I asked.

'Yeah,' he said at last. 'I promise.'

Two Nought girls of about our age or maybe a bit older
walked towards us. Dan sidestepped, to walk slightly
behind me, still conscious of the state of his jeans. The girls
looked Dan and me up and down as they passed before
turning to each other and giggling. Why do girls do that?
Is it meant to make them seem more interesting?
Attractive? 'Cause if so, then it misses by several kilometres.
It just made them seem like airheads. Once they'd
passed, Dan fell into step next to me again, not saying a
word. The normal Dan would never have let two fit girls
pass by without trying to get their mobile phone digits at
the very least. His hands hung with false nonchalance over
the dark patch at his groin. We approached a small parade
of shops when I had an idea.

'Wait here,' I said to Dan, before popping into the
newsagent. I bought two big bottles of water. Outside the
shop, I grinned at Dan as I showed him the bottles. He
frowned at me. I handed one bottle to him before
unscrewing the top of the other one. I splashed the water
over Dan's shirt and jeans.

'What the hell are you playing at?' Dan hopped about
like the water was boiling. He tried to snatch the bottle
away from me, but I wouldn't let him.

'The best way to hide one stain is amongst many,' I said.

He stopped dancing about after that, having finally
clicked what I was doing. He wasn't happy, but he let me
carry on. Once one bottle was empty, we swapped and I
doused him with the second one. I clamped my lips
together as I poured water over his head. The next thing
I knew, we were both howling with laughter. People
walking by gave us a wide berth – no doubt they thought
we were both barking. By the time I'd finished, Dan was
dripping wet with barely a dry patch anywhere on his
clothes. His dark-blond hair was now darker and plastered
to his head like a swimming cap. We looked at each other,
and our laughter faded to nothing. Dan walked to the side
of the pavement, put his hands on his knees to steady himself
and vomited up his last ten meals. I watched him and there
was nothing I could do. When he'd finally finished, he used
the last remaining drops of water in my bottle to rinse out
his mouth before spitting the lot onto the pavement.

'All right now?' I asked.

Dan's expression gave me the answer to that one. 'Tell
me something, Tobey,' he began quietly. 'What would you
have done if you had known the gun had real bullets in it?'

Dan and I looked at each other. How could I possibly
answer that question?

'I don't know,' I replied. And that was the truth.

Dan nodded slowly but said nothing.

We headed for the bus stop.