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Authors: Steve Tasane

Blood Donors (17 page)

BOOK: Blood Donors
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Sis is pullin’ my arms offa my head. I’m scratchin’—

Marsh!

We never goin’ to be rid. So we fight…

Marshall!
She squeezin’ my wrists.


to the death.

She pick up the mallet I dropped and she place it back in my hands.

Swing it
she say.
Feel
.

I ain’t gonna itch and scratch. I’m gonna
swing
and
smash
and
shatter
and
splat
.

Self-Defence Technique Number Four: Total Onslaught.

We swing open the doors and charge in, tools raised, war cries whoopin’.

There ain’t zero to see. No Megas. No Andy. No Rachid. Lift doors still wide open, black hole within. Who gonna take a peek inside?

Mus?
I say.

Uh-unh. No way
.

We all go together
say Sis.
Have our weapons set. Be ready to strike the second you seen one of ’em. If one of us strikes, we all strike, get me?

We getcha
.

Step by step, inch by inch. Silence is eerie. Closer. Closer.

Only thing repellin’ us is the stench. I’m wishin’ we’d grabbed some masks while we was busy toolin’ ourselves up. Too late now. Tryin’ not to breath – tricky, when your heart beatin’ 140 bpm.

Lift is empty.

There ain’t nothin’ to hear. No ominous rumblin’ nor creepy
pitter-pats
.

They gone
.

Whooh
. Mustaph breathe out, long and deep.

See what else gone too?
I say.
Our friends Andy and Rachid. Sly Megas gone and hidden their bodies somewhere, so as not to raise the alarm
.

We
the ones goin’ to raise the alarm
say Sis.

A lone Megabug dashes out from behind a pillar, makin’ a break for it. Must have been lef’ behind by its mates. Maybe it lef’ behind as a spy.

SPLOTT!

Swear I never seen Muskrat move so fast. He like a highly trained assassin. Blob of foam spit straight out the end of his foam gun, hit that Mega directly on its back. Whole thing blow up like a air bag in a car. Nex’ second, there ain’t no bug to see, just one foamy mess. Look like a accident at a bubblegum factory.

He ain’t got nothin’ to report
say Mus, blowin’ imaginary smoke away from the barrel of his gun.

We movin’ around in small circles, checkin’ all the space around us. It too quiet.

They gonna pounce?

Sis hold her hand up for total silence. We listen and we watch. Where they gone? I got my hammer raised, ready for ’em.

Woof!
say Sabe. I know for certain the area is now free of Megas. Sabe only ever barks at enemies once they gone away.

They gone up. Up into The Finger. Into position.

It beginning to get dark
I say.

Makin’ their battle formations.

We runnin’ out of time
.

We race up the stairwell, keepin’ eyes peeled and weapons raised. Don’ see no giant bugs. See plenty of bullet-hole poo. They
been
here. Maybe they makin’ their way to the outside walls, wait outside all the open windows, pounce as one when darkness falls.

We reach the seventh floor, still no sign of where they hidin’ out. Mus say
I’m goin’ to try and persuade my folks to leave. Figure somewhere for ’em to go
.

Sis say
Wait up
. She bring out her phone.
I send you the film of the lift men, so your family more easy to persuade
.

Ain’t got no phone, have I?
shrug Mus.

How many times I told you you
need
a phone?
I tusk.

He shrug again.

Sis
I say,
you gonna send that film to your whole address book? Ain’t no one gonna doubt us now
.

She press a button.
Is done
.

Now we in business. I put a hand on Mustaph’s shoulder.
Good luck, yeah? And thanks, Mus. Maybe we’ll meet up tomorrow, when everyone safe
.

What you talkin’ about?
He give me his affronted look.
I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Get my folks out is all. You think I’m goin’ to bail on you now? We got work to do
.

Thought you hated work, Musky?
Sis say.

Certainly. But –
he blow a big raspberry –
sometimes there just ain’t no dodgin’ it. Meet you in Sis’s place, yeah?

That my boy.

We all slippin’ skin. Bugs ain’t goin’ to beat us. Ain’t got no chance.

Come
say Sis, and me, her and the dog run on up.

It is time to bring Mum on side.

Laughing Stock of the Cop Shop

She ain’t in.

Where is she? She always in. Con-Con ain’t here either. Where are they? Me and Sis search the flat from top to bottom, Sabre sniffin’ for ’em also.

I phone her. Her phone rings on the kitchen table. Why ain’t she taken it with her, wherever she gone?

I don’ like it, Sis. I don’ like it at all
.

Sis try and sound all reassurin’.
She probably jus’ down the corner shop, is all, taken your bro with her so she know he safe
.

She plonk herself down on the sofa.
Let’s jus’ sit and wait a while. I’ll see if I can get through to Big Auntie, yeah? Make sure she got the video
.

But before Sis gets chance to call Big Auntie, there’s a hammerin’ at the door. I almos’ leap out of my skin.

I pick up the hammer and I’m ready to use it.

I pull open the door.

Wish I had a thinkin’ brain as well as a battlin’ one. Before I even realize my name ain’t Clever Trevor, my hammer is lyin’ on the floor and I got hands on my collar shovin’ me up agains’ the door.

Compo. He was expectin’ me.

Maybe he was too quick for me, but I should have
anticipated
it, yeah? Gonna end up gettin’ my blood slurped by Megas if I don’t sharpen myself up, leave Con-Con as a only child. Punch my own head if I had a hand free.

Found you
he say. He got the bug schnozzle in his hand from before, and wavin’ it furiously in front of my face, like I am the fool and not him.
You let me make a right berk of myself, didn’t you!
he yells.

Easy, Officer Cotton
. Sis raise her nail gun, and set Compo in her sights.
Nice and easy, you don’ want to see me display my DIY skills, do you now?

I do. I could happily picture old Compo gettin’ nailed to the wall, like a certificate of top neighbourliness.

Easy girl
echo Compo, nice and careful, like he an expert on this type of negotiable situation.

No
Sis insist.
You
take it easy. We got two more men been taken by the giant bugs, and now they lyin’ in wait for the rest of us. That’s why we armed. That’s why we on the same side as you. Get me? You want the video evidence?

No need
says Compo.
That’s why I’ve been seeking you out
.

What you mean?
say Sis.

Put down the gun and I’ll tell you
.

Put down my friend and I’ll put down my gun
.

Compo show he a man of perfec’ manners. He even straighten my shirt for me. Then he wave the bug schnozzle in front of our noses.
You two know how much humiliation you’ve caused me with this?

I laugh.
Told you it wasn’t no drug pipe
.

So I was told
,
after
I handed it over to the drug squad. Imagine that?

Me and Sis can’t help but share a giggle. Boy, is Compo in a fluster. He stamp his feet, he so agitated.

All right, all right, it’s not that funny. I’m trying to do my duty here! That’s why I decided to examine it more closely
.

I can see he actually tryin’ not to blush. Never seen Compo so embarrassed. After a mo’, he fix his gaze on Sis, try and give her his mos’ mature, responsible look. It killin’ me tryin’ not to laugh.
Young lady
he say.
Sensible now. Please. Is this … is this or is this not a … proboscis?

Pow. How long has it taken for us to get someone to finally believe what goin’ down? At last, a adult ready to accep’ the truth. Me and Sis are struck-dumb.

Compo take that silence as a encouragin’ sign. He go on.
Because, when I gave this opinion in my report, the Commander, well, he … he…

It too much for me. I burst into uncontrollables. Man, I am creasin’ up. Sis starts up too. We are in hysterics. Floodin’ tears. Oh my daze.

Compo. What a tool. Finally he see sense and what do he do? He present himself as the laughin’ stock of the Cop Shop. He is livid at our laughin’ but we cannot stop.

A giant bug drops from the ceilin’ onto his head. Two front legs gouge into his cheeks, the proboscis tappin’ against his nose and his mouth tryin’ to find a angle to stab him, paralyze his head.

Whoah. My hammer is lyin’ on the floor.

Keep still
say Sis.

Comp is doin’ the Death Fandango. She raises her gun and shoots a nail right between the Mega’s eyes, sendin’ it flyin’ against the door, where it hangs, pinned like a exhibit in a bug display.

Sabretooth throws me one look of absolute terror. It is his last straw, broke the mongrel’s back. He flip, bolt through the door, up the stairs, fast as he can.

Sabe!
I give Compo one last look.
You call the
real
police, yeah? And you wait here for my mum. Tell her what really goin’ down. You owe me!
And I race after my dog.

I should consider the consequence of racin’ off after Sabre. I am so tired. I do not consider the consequence.

Top of the Beanstalk

Far as I’m concerned, ’part from Mum and Con, I got three more family, that Sis, Mus and Sabretooth. We is one and all, and I ain’t leavin’ my dog panicked and alone at the mercy of the Megas. He ain’t goin’ to survive two minutes. I got in my mind what they done to His Maj. Picturin’ the same with Sabes break my heart.

We got to impose a conclusion to this madness. Finger is our territory, no way we lettin’ some six-leg, red-eye crew take it over. We have final showdown: friends, family against bloodsuckers.

All we got to do is find where they gone. My mind is pushin’ me. Where are the bugs? If they ain’t hidin’ no more in the lift shaft? Think I know. They hidin’ everywhere now. Squeezin’ through windows, hidin’ ’neath folks’ mattresses, on top of their cupboards, snuggled in the air space between DVD players, Xbox games, sittin’ sneaky in pots and pans beneath the sink, waitin’ to creep out, attach themselves to unsuspecting legs.

Boundin’ up, my mind pushin’ me, givin’ me grief like I surely deserve.
I shoulda done this. I shoulda done that.
Whole world gone apocalyptic from the moment I smashed Ashley in his brain-damaged mouth.

Sabe!
I call.
Sabe! Heel, boy!

Stupid dog. Up we race, eleventh, twelfth, past the thirteenth floor, a Empty’s flat cordoned off with police tape. Higher, past a panickin’ family on the fourteenth, brothers, sisters, mum and dad, all of ’em carryin’ bags and cases and lookin’ dazed. They scurry past, like frightened rats. Word got out at last.

Go easy!
I yell.
Get as far as you can, yeah?

One of the boys raise his eyebrows at me in response. Boy I know from school.
I’ll text you
I add, like a fool. Old habits.

I speed up the next flight.

Puff puff puff
I’m goin’, exhaustion catchin’ up with me, puttin’ weights on my legs and a clamp on my chest.
Puff puff
like I smoke cigarettes 40 a day. Ears are wacko, playin’ havoc with my balance. Higher I go, higher, nowhere to go but up in the world. Bug bullet holes blurrin’ past my head, dirty suckers turnin’ whole block into a public toilet.

Sabretooth! Here, boy! Heel!
What Sabe goin’ to do when he get to the top, keep on boundin’ up into the clouds? Dogs never think things through.

Seventeenth floor, big man on his knees with a axe, choppin’ up a pile of Megas. Mad Gaz, wearin’ only a vest and one sock, choppin’ away like he plannin’ on putting all them Megas in a pie, swivel-eyed and sweaty.

Nice one, bro
.

Higher. And round. Higher. And round.

Goin’ against the tide of more and more families packin’ their bags and hurryin’ down. Sis’s video makin’ its impression felt.

Hearin’ my breath wheezing like I is enjoyin’ full-blown cardiac here on the steps, usin’ cuss words my mum banned from earshot.

Sabretooth!
I yell.

I am thirteen miles high. I am leavin’ everythin’ behin’, what was my world, goin’ where I don’ know.

I trip, dodgin’ some fool’s wheelie case.

My messed-up head whack my balance. Don’t put my hands out in time to break my fall. Nose is coshed full-on by the edge of the stair.
BAM!

Damn if I ain’t now experiencin’ what they mean in books when they say
you seein’ stars
. My up seem to be down, and my in seem to be out. Ohhh…

Pair of hands reachin’ round beneath my ribs and my pits, and I’m floatin’ up. Hands be like juggler’s hands, spinnin’ me round like I’m as light as a Empty mus’ be. Hands carryin’ me further up, not down where everyone fleein’. I don’ get it, ’cos as I turn in the air I see my old photograph of Dad that I keep beneath the mattress.

But it ain’t the same. Face is thinner, hair is greyer. Eyes ain’t got that mischievous spark.

Whump.
My belly landin’ against the muscle of those same broad shoulders. His fingers on the small of my back, keepin’ me balanced. My eyes fuzzying a picture of his back and legs as we jig-jig up and up the final flights. I’m hearin’ his voice.
Hello, boy. Hold on tight, ’cos we goin’ right to the top
.

After all these years, here I am, back on my dad’s shoulders. Only it ain’t how I remember it, nor how I imagined it. I ain’t King of the Castle no more. Blood rushin’ down to my head. All I’m seein’ is the end of everythin’. All I’m smellin’ is a sickness, runnin’ right through the block, my friends, my family and me.

BOOK: Blood Donors
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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