Should Have Killed The Kid (14 page)

He dove for his mattress and lay there face down until he heard someone mutter, ‘Fucking idiot,’ and something thunked down beside him. Then the squeaking trolley continued on its way down the stretch of cubicles. Even as the soldiers moved on he stayed down, cursing his stupidity while someone – it sounded like the moustachioed man from the adjoining cubicle – started to protest but obviously thought better of it and lapsed into silence again.

‘But this isn’t even half…’

Only when he heard the rustle of movement did Dave look up. Quick as a flash, his hand darted out to latch onto the tin that had landed by his head. Just as quickly he saw the man across from him dart back onto his own mattress, hands held up as if to say, ‘Yep, you got me.’

Dave glared at him but didn’t have the energy or inclination to take it further. He was more relieved than anything that the man hadn’t wanted to press the matter. In his current state, Dave doubted he’d be in very good condition to resist.

Yeah, but if he’d gotten a hand on it, I bet it’d have been a different story,
he thought and looked at the label-less tin. Its shape told him it was more than likely sardines and for a second he almost burst into tears as he wondered how many fights were currently erupting across the various skyscrapers over something similar.

He didn’t though. His stomach, roused by the prospect of food, instead took over and he quickly set to work fumbling with the key glued to the underside of the tin, everything else forgotten until he'd finished his meal.

While the trolley squeaked on down the floor, the only other sound to fill the air was the hungry slurping it left in its wake.

14.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafted through the cubicles, triggering Dave’s own cravings and forcing him to move from where he’d spent the hour or two since food rations slumped on his thin mattress. It was his only option. Even with Toohey gone, there was no way he was going to risk lighting up where he currently was. Whoever had clearly possessed far more balls than he would ever muster.

He licked at his dry lips, shook his head to clear away the semi-daze and carefully eased his way through the sprawled bodies. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of their oblivion. Quite a few of the others had taken the opportunity for a post meal nap but Dave had been unable to sleep. Whenever he’d closed his eyes, it had been the same repeating loop: Hent, Monty’s eyes, Bruno’s brains on the bar, then the mounds in the bluestone room.

You’d think repetition would breed immunity,
Dave thought, but it wasn’t the case. Each and every time it flashed through his mind, it seemed even more horrendous than the last. Building and building until Dave felt the first stirring of something he thought had gone when the first news bulletin had aired.

Could murder a beer,
he thought and immediately felt bile race into his throat as Naomi's disapproving face flashed before him and her voice echoed through his head:
That's right, when things get a little bit rough go and turn to the bottle...

He stumbled out of the cubicle trying to escape her words. But he only made it two steps before he realised a soldier was standing by the patches of powder covering Toohey’s blood stains, casually smoking as she stared out the window. Immediately his eyes darted to the gun slung over her shoulder and he swallowed nervously, the taste of his meal still heavy in his throat – the tin had indeed contained sardines and each breath now exhaled the horrid stench of fish up and into his nose.

Dave wanted to head straight back to his mattress but the soldier turned before he got a chance.

‘You,’ she said and Dave’s heart started hammering. Dave took in the short red hair beneath the cap and the stern face and recognised her as the soldier from the roof. The one who’d had the smile like Naomi’s. She wasn’t smiling now though and Dave nearly wilted beneath her summons. She’d seen him talking to Monty up on the roof. Maybe she thought he was a nutcase? Maybe she’d just been following him ever since to see what he did. Probably found the scrunched up bits of paper in the stairwell; saw him watching the kid; put two and two together…

Whoa, way to get carried away,
Dave thought as he saw the clipboard in her hand.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Dave.’

‘Full name thank you, sir.’

‘Oh… David Thomas.’

The soldier scrabbled through a few sheets of paper then unclipped the pen from the end of the board.

‘David Joel Thomas?’ she asked.

‘Yep,’ he replied as his panic started to die down into confusion and he really looked at the soldier. The red-rims around her eyes hinted that she’d recently cried. Though there was no hint of tears now.

‘Good.’ The soldier scribbled something and recapped the pen then took a long draw on her cigarette and turned to the window once more. The moment stretched out as Dave nervously fidgeted, trying to work up the courage to ask why she wanted his name. An explanation didn't seem forthcoming from the soldier. The longer Dave stood waiting, the more his eyes drifted across her sweat stained singlet to rest upon the gun.

He was about to accept that he’d never know exactly why she’d wanted his name and head on his way when she abruptly turned to face him again.

‘Want a smoke?’ She rummaged in her pocket and held a rumpled pack of Winfield Golds out to Dave. An offer he couldn’t refuse. Immediately his mind raced to the five stale smokes left in his packet. There’d be no more once they were done.

‘Sure.’ Dave tried to keep his voice as calm as possible, the irrational fear rising that others might hear the excitement in his voice. He could picture them stalking like jackals, edging their way out from the cubicles to surround them. When he felt the heft of the pack and realised it was nearly full, it became harder and harder to maintain an even tone. He had to resist the urge to sprint off with his new found booty.

The gun helped there.

It also gave him the confidence to slip a cigarette from the pack and join the soldier for a smoke right there and then. If he'd been on his own there wouldn't have been a chance in hell.

The flame touched the tip and Dave knew the smokes were a lot fresher than his. It was blissful. Even with his dry mouth, he sucked it down greedily, ignoring the faint edge of sardine that came along with it.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured while exhaling.

‘Keep it,’ the soldier told him when he tried to hand the pack back and, for a second, Dave stared in disbelief between the pack and her. His mind couldn’t quite comprehend such a grandiose gesture. The soldier must have worked as much out from the shock on his face. She snorted and said, ‘Keep it. I have more. Much more.’

He struggled for a better way to express his gratitude but only managed another, 'Thank you,' before he quickly tucked the packet away into his pocket, still half thinking she was going to snap at him,
what the hell are you doing, those are fucking worth a mint now.

'It's not a problem.' A ghost of the so familiar smile twitched around the edges of her mouth as she turned back to stare out the window. She took another drag on her smoke then tapped the glass. 'See that building there?' Dave nodded as he glanced at the building she pointed to. One that had been ablaze for days now, the flames clearly visible above the shorter block that stood between it and their skyscraper. Dave looked to his cigarette to keep calm. It had been a strange encounter so far and Dave couldn't help thinking at some point that would shift. That strange would turn to scary.

No one just gives someone a pack of smokes anymore,
the little voice returned, niggling away at him. It only made him fidget worse.

'That's where my fiancée used to work.' She coughed a humourless laugh.

'Oh...' Dave stumbled for words as the soldier's brow furrowed and once more he was struck by her similarities to Naomi. It was the same sort of scrunched up look she'd used to get when something confused her.

'He always said it deserved to be burned to the ground.'

Dave unleashed a strange high pitched choking noise at her words. His reaction getting all mixed up when a second into his chuckle it clicked that laughing might not be a suitable response. Remembering the red rimmed eyes, Dave wondered if maybe he'd just made a really bad mistake. It was difficult to read the lady's expression as she looked to her clipboard once more.

Again, he resisted the urge to sprint away.

He kept working on his smoke, though he almost choked when the soldier finally did look back up. The hint of a smile was gone and the intimidating scowl she'd worn on the roof was back in place.

'So tell me, David Thomas, what exactly happened here.' An incline of her head sent Dave's eyes drifting to the circles of carpet cleaner on the floor.

He wilted beneath her steady glare while his mind raced for a suitable response. One that wouldn't implicate him as a witness. For all he knew, she might be in on it.

Some sort of test, trying to weed out the ones who saw what the other soldiers did,
Dave thought even though the idea seemed a little paranoid.
They're trying to stop word getting out, don't want a full scale panic on their hands.

'Umm... I didn't really see what happened.' Dave paused as the soldier sucked down the last mouthful of her cigarette, tucked the clipboard under her arm, then licked the tips of her fingers and extinguished the smoldering butt in a pinch. 'I was... was having a smoke and it was sort of all over when I came back...' The soldier's brow wrinkled again and Dave faltered as she lobbed the filter to the ground at her feet. 'I heard someone attacked one of your guys or something. Sounded horrible...' The soldier started nodding and his words petered out again. At first he thought he'd chosen the right approach. Then the soldier turned back to stare out the window and the way her jaw muscles clenched as she kept nodding told him he might have misjudged.

'Yeah, thought that might be the case,' the soldier finally sighed and her jaw unclenched. There was genuine sadness in her voice as she continued and Dave started to feel a little bad for his lie. He finished his smoke and tried to repeat the soldiers trick for putting it out but only succeeded in scalding his fingers.

‘Sorry–‘ he started but was cut off.

‘Yeah, everything is coming to an end and not a single solitary person seems to care or want to do anything about it.’ The soldier studied the clipboard for a second. ‘And, Mr David Thomas, you make it a clean sweep. Enjoy your cigarettes.’

Dave stammered as he watched the soldier fish a second pack of cigarettes from her pocket and pop the top. For a brief second he nearly explained why he’d lied but the expression on the soldier’s face made him think that she probably wasn’t at her most receptive. Instead he kept silent, backed away and headed for the roof.

Excitement lingered despite how horrible he felt about misleading the soldier; the pack of cigarettes in his pocket the best thing to have happened to him in a very long time. He deliberately avoided looking at the kid as he headed for the foyer so he wouldn't have to break the tenuous happiness.

Though as he pushed through the glass doors, it started to ebb of its own accord while he thought a little more about what the soldier had been saying.

For the second time since that original news report, Dave felt like he could really use a drink.

15.

The smoke had thickened in the sky during his absence. Dave was pretty certain that night was falling but the plume made it difficult to be sure. The spotlights reflected from the smoke haze and the sky just seemed to glow a pale orange colour no matter which direction he looked.

The air rasped harsher than ever down Dave’s throat, not at all helped by the second cigarette in a row that he puffed. He was no longer used to so many cigarettes in close proximity.

Still, I probably don’t deserve to enjoy them,
he thought even as he winced at how pathetic a sentiment it was. But that was the way his thoughts had headed as soon as he'd reached the roof top and found that the soldiers that had earlier been neglecting their duty had decided to abandon their posts altogether.

After a quick look around showed he was on his own, Dave had headed straight to the edge, lit up, leaned forward and let the self pity rush in.

Should I just top myself?
Dave scanned the smouldering city around him, noting with vague interest that another building down toward the docklands had apparently toppled at some point during his absence.
Climb up on the ledge here and take a swan dive?

'And what exactly is that going to achieve?'

When Monty's voice sounded behind him, Dave just assumed it was in his head again. He didn't bother looking back; continued to stare out across the vista of destruction he was responsible for.

'Where have you been?' he muttered, more to himself than anything. He was quite surprised when he got a response.

'There's no time for this. What part of they're coming did you not understand?' Monty's tired voice died out into a dry husky cough. That planted a seed of doubt in Dave's mind and he was on the verge of looking back when Monty recovered and barked. 'Look down, you dickhead,' before dropping into another coughing fit.