Terror Kid (11 page)

The housing estate was just coming to life with people leaving for work and school. Rico walked through the estate and back onto the streets, but he was nervous. He knew that the longer he was on the run the more people would know about him, and the more people knew about him the more difficult it would be to hide. As he walked he made mental notes of the road names and his direction of travel, whilst at the same time trying to hold his head down. Then he saw a sign for Dartmouth Park; he followed it, and then more signs, until he reached the park. He wandered around the park for a while until he saw a lake. At various points around the lake people were preparing to do some fishing so Rico sat and watched them. He watched for an hour as more people came to feed the ducks and swans, and although none of them paid any attention to Rico he began to feel uneasy. He stood up and began to wander around again, and then he saw some toilets. He quickened his pace and went straight to them. After relieving himself he went to the sink where he brushed his teeth, and when his teeth were done he dropped his hood, took off his cap, and washed his hair using the hand soap. After he had washed and rinsed he put his head under the hand dryer to let the warm air dry his hair. He was feeling relieved, relaxed and refreshed – until he was disturbed.

‘I could think of easier ways of cooking your head if that's what you really want.'

Rico twisted round and looked up to see a man standing over him. He was dressed in overalls and carrying some gardening tools.

‘I fell over,' said Rico. ‘Got some dirt in my hair so I washed it out.'

‘As long as you didn't mess up one of my flower beds that's all right,' said the man with a grin.

‘No,' said Rico. ‘It happened by the lake.'

‘Good job you didn't fall in then. You would have needed a bigger hair dryer than that.'

The man continued into the lavatory. Rico's hair was now dry but he kept his head under the dryer until the man had left the lavatory altogether. As soon as he left Rico took his bag and went back into one of the cubicles. Rico was relieved that the man had not recognised him, but he began to wonder how long it could continue. When would his luck run out?

Rico sat on the closed toilet seat, wondering what he should do next. He turned on the phone to see if there were any messages. There were none, so he quickly turned the phone off. In his mind he began to relive the moment he closed the police website down, and then the moment he saw the police outside his house. Then he recalled watching the news report on TV with Lola, when he realised just how much damage had been done. He shook his head, trying to shake the pictures out of his mind. He was desperate to hear from Lola, and he couldn't understand why she had not been in contact yet. Then he thought that maybe it was time to stop thinking about Lola; maybe she had given up on him. Maybe he should just start thinking about himself, and his own survival, alone.

It was almost midday. Rico had seen enough of the toilet cubicle, and he was getting hungry. He waited until the lavatory was empty and left. His plan was to find a way of getting something to eat, even if it meant more fish and chips, but as he made his way out of the park he felt a thud in his lower back. It hit him so hard he dropped his bag. He thought of running but when he looked behind him all he saw on the ground was a football. He looked up and saw a young man running towards him. He looked beyond the man and saw another younger man waiting for the return of the ball so they could continue their kick around.

‘Sorry, mate,' said the man. ‘Are you OK?'

‘Yes,' said Rico quickly. ‘I'm OK.'

‘Really sorry, mate. We didn't mean it, honestly.'

‘It's no problem,' said Rico nervously, kicking the ball back.

The man picked up the ball, but after he picked it up he carried on running towards Rico, stopping right in front of him. The man was panting and out of breath.

‘I got a powerful kick, yeah, but I'm just not very good at getting it on target.'

‘It's cool,' insisted Rico. Having not wanted to draw attention to himself, this was exactly what was happening. People were looking his way, concerned about Rico after seeing how hard he had been hit.

‘It didn't even hurt me,' said Rico, stepping around the man and waving goodbye to him.

‘OK. See you,' said the man, who then turned and ran back to his mate.

Rico continued walking out of the park but just before he got to the gate the ball appeared again. This time it rolled past him. He looked behind him and saw the same man with his companion running towards him. Rico picked up the ball and kicked it back to them. The man caught the ball but they both continued running towards him. By the time they got to Rico they were both out of breath. The man with the ball was visibly excited, his friend less so.

‘What's your name?' asked the man.

‘Why do you want to know?' replied Rico. He continued to walk. Rico was now very anxious. He just did not want a conversation with these people. He forced a smile. ‘Don't worry. I told you, I'm fine. I've been hit by footballs much harder than that.'

‘Come on. Just tell me your name,' the man said a little more forcefully. ‘Be polite. My name's Rohan, what's yours?'

Rico went silent. He wasn't sure what to do. Then Rohan looked to his companion, threw him the ball and said, ‘I told you. It's him. The terror kid. I know his face.'

Rico began to run. He ran out of the gates and down the street. The men ran after him. Rico was not a fast runner, and having to hold the bag slowed him down, but he ran as fast as he could. Then suddenly a man spread his arms open and blocked Rico's path. Rico tried to run around him, but the man was big, and there was nowhere to go.

‘I've got him!' shouted the man. ‘No one gets past me. I used to play rugby. No one got past me then, no one gets past me now.'

The man wrapped his arms around Rico until the men caught up.

‘Did he steal something from you?' asked the man. Rico tried to struggle free, but the man gripped him so firmly he could barely breathe.

‘No,' said Rohan's companion. ‘We're just playing a game.'

‘Just playing a game?' said the man disbelievingly. ‘You could have fooled me.'

‘It's OK,' said Rohan. ‘Let him go. He's our friend.'

‘Your friend. I'm sorry,' said the man as he let Rico go. ‘And there I was, trying to be a superhero. You young ones play some strange games nowadays. I'll be off then. Leave you to your strange games.'

The man walked off. There was an audible sigh of relief from all three of them. The men looked at Rico, and Rico looked at them, none of them sure what to do next.

‘So it's like this, right. I'm Rohan, and this is my brother Dean.' Rohan lowered his voice. ‘We know who you are, but don't worry, there's no problem. We're cool. We not gonna tell the cops or anything. Let's go for a walk. Get off the busy road.'

The two brothers stepped either side of Rico and began to walk. Rico had no choice but to walk with them.

‘What are you going to do to me? asked Rico, who was now a little scared.

‘Nothing,' said Dean. ‘We are your friends. We're on your side.'

Rohan and Dean were older than Rico, in their twenties. Rohan had blond hair and was skinny, tall and very talkative. His brother Dean was also blond, but a man of few words. Both wore jeans and West Bromwich Albion football shirts. When they had left the main road Rohan continued to talk.

‘I can't believe you're here. Hey, do you need anything?'

‘Are you going to call the police?' asked Rico quietly.

‘No way!' said Rohan. ‘We hate the police. Do you need anything?'

‘I just need somewhere to rest and something to eat.'

‘That's no problem,' said Rohan. ‘We can help you with that. Can't we, Dean?'

‘Yes,' said Dean. ‘Shall we take him to the pub?'

‘That's what I'm thinking,' said Rohan with a big smile on his face.

‘I'm not going to a pub,' said Rico.

‘It's not that kind of a pub. Well, it's not a pub. You'll see when we get there.' said Dean.

They walked for a short while until they came to Dean and Rohan's house. Dean went in, leaving Rohan and Rico to walk on and wait a short distance away. Soon Dean appeared from the side gate, signalling them to enter. Once through the gate Dean and Rohan led Rico to a cabin at the bottom of the garden. It was comfortable inside, with three armchairs, football shields and trophies on the walls, a pool table at its centre, and a bar that looked exactly like a bar in a pub.

‘You can stay here for a while. No one comes here, not without our permission anyway,' said Rohan.

Rico looked around at the trophies, and then he walked up to the pool table and ran his fingers over the cloth.

‘I see why you call it the pub now.'

Rohan joined him and started to run his fingers over the table.

‘Yes, when we were small we liked to play pool.'

‘And drink,' said Dean.

‘So our dad made this cabin for us,' Rohan continued. ‘It's a great place to just chill out. We don't normally let people in here, you know. But you're special.'

‘What do you like to eat?' asked Dean

Rico reply was quick. ‘Right now, I'll eat anything.'

Rohan drew the curtains and Dean went back into the house and brought back some sandwiches, biscuits and two cans of soft drink. The brothers watched as Rico cleaned up the food that was placed before him, then they talked. They talked for most of the afternoon, and come early evening the brothers went into the house for their meals, leaving Rico for a while, returning again with more food.

When they talked it was about life in the area, what the local kids were like, films they had seen and football, which Rico was not at all interested in. The brothers explained that their mother was disabled, and although she could walk a little around the house, most of the time she had to use a wheelchair, and their father didn't go to work but spent most of his time looking after her. Rohan was doing most of the talking, but what was making Rico uncomfortable was the fact that they didn't mention that he was on the run. Not until late in the evening when they were getting ready to leave him for the night.

‘We have to turn the light off now; if we leave it on it will look weird. Don't worry, it's safe. No one knows that you're here and no one will find you. Can you manage in the dark?' asked Rohan.

‘Of course,' replied Rico. ‘I slept in a garden shed last night. Compared to that this is luxury. Can I charge my phone up?'

‘No problem, just do it in the dark. Don't open the curtains until we come back, and try to be quiet. But you'll be fine.'

As soon as they left, Rico turned on the phone that Lola had given him, but again there were no messages. He was tempted to turn on his own phone but he knew that once he turned it on he could be traced. He put his newly acquired phone on to charge, spent some time thinking, and then he curled up in an armchair and went to sleep.

 

Rico slept soundly right through the night and most of the morning. It was almost eleven o'clock when he woke up. He was hot. The sunlight hit the window and, even with the curtains closed, the greenhouse effect began to fry him. He stood up and as he stretched the cabin door opened, just enough for Rohan and Dean to peep in.

‘Can we come in?' asked Rohan.

‘Of course,' said Rico.

‘We've come over a couple of times but you were fast asleep. We didn't want to wake you up.'

Rohan was carrying a dish, a spoon and a bottle of milk. Dean was carrying a box of breakfast cereal, a couple of white bread rolls and a jar of jam. Soon Rico was eating the food, with Rohan and Dean looking on. When Rico caught their eyes they smiled back at him as if they were really happy just to see a hungry boy being fed. When Rico was finished they both left, saying they would be back very soon.

Thirty minutes later they returned. This time they were smiling but empty-handed.

‘Rico,' said Rohan. ‘Our parents have gone down the day centre, let's go in the house.'

Rico was cautious. ‘Are you sure?'

‘It's safe,' said Dean. ‘They're away for a couple of hours. More space in there.'

‘You can get all you need,' said Rohan. ‘You can go to the toilet, have a shower, anything. Let's go.'

They guided Rico into the house; it was small, but with some surprises: two canaries sang in one birdcage, and there was an owl asleep in another. There was also a big fish tank full of tropical fish and in the corner was a large television.

‘Can I watch some telly?' asked Rico.

‘Later,' said Rohan.

‘I want to see what they're saying about me.'

‘Don't worry. We'll come to that in a while.'