ball.
Jack revved the car noisily. He heard the rear doors open then slam shut seconds later. Ged, Lenny and Wozza were in a heap inside, panting and cursing. The remainder of the gang paced forward; at least two more, maybe three, had handguns at their sides. One, his face contorted, headed for the car, pointing a pistol at Jack.
“For fuck’s sake, Jack. Do one. Go, go, GO!” cried Wozza.
Jack ducked. “Wait… DJ!” He leaned across, swung open the front passenger door, knocking one of the gunmen off balance. “Get in… quick…”
DJ had blood dripping from his nose but seemed to regain his senses. He scrambled into the front, legs dangling outside the swinging door. Cursing, Sniffer grabbed at DJ’s feet. Dark faces sneered, contorting angrily, closing in.
Two of the Crew turned, pointing their pistols at the Escort. Jack reversed rapidly, twirling the steering wheel. Spinning tyres echoed throughout the car park as he negotiated a handbrake turn. Sniffer was thrown off balance, while DJ slid further out, but Jack grabbed his right arm. He struggled to control the car and slammed the brake with a resounding screech. He mustered the strength to drag DJ inside, Ged stretching across to assist, receiving a sturdy trainer in the face from the stocky Sniffer in the process.
Most of the gang surrounded the Escort, banging their guns and fists on the windows and bodywork, their twisted faces and manic eyes peering in like starved zombies after their prey. A couple more ran over swinging baseball bats. The two rear side windows smashed inward, showering those inside with small chards, causing screams that mingled with a cacophony of insults and threats. The vehicle rocked from side to side.
“LET’S GO, JACK, FOR GOD’S SAKE!” Lenny’s voice crackled in panic.
A silver handgun dangled through the broken window, pointing at Wozza, who grabbed it hastily.
“Fuckin’ gimme that.” DJ snatched the pistol from Wozza.
Jack wheel-spun the vehicle forward, flicking Jerome into the air. He bounced onto the bonnet with a thud, his handgun clanging off the side of the car. A couple of hangers-on released their grips. DJ pointed his newly acquired handgun out of the window.
“No, DJ, don’t!”
“Just fuckin’ drive, Jack.”
As the car sped toward the ramp leading to level five, there was a flurry of deafening bangs, whistling and pinging sounds.
DJ, arm out of the window, fired back manically, making Jack wince repeatedly as he drove. “WANKERS!” underlined each shot until the handgun was spent, the tiny wisps of acrid smoke instantly dispersing.
Jack’s ears were still ringing from the gunshots when the rear windscreen smashed through and he felt something spatter on the back of his head and neck. He nearly lost control of the vehicle, feeling it lift onto its two rear wheels down the ramp. The car rebounded on return impact and they all bounced up, then down, in their seats. Jack managed to regain enough control for a swift right. The back end skidded to the left into the lengthy crash barriers, yanking off the bumper, which clanged noisily behind them.
Jack noticed red speckles on the windscreen and dash area. DJ wiped dripping blood from his swollen nose then stared into space. Confused, Jack continued driving.
Wozza began bawling inconsolably.
“No, no, NOOOO…” Ged’s head was in his hands.
It was only when they reached the bottom of the multi-storey that Jack looked round. Lenny was slumped forward with a dark crimson hole in the back of his head.
***
After weaving frantically through the side streets, while checking the rear-view mirror as often as a fleeing bank robber, Jack finally eased off the revs. He drew the car to a halt on a dark cobbled road a mile from the precinct. Beneath the relative sanctuary of Bullsmead railway arches, Jack heard the rumblings of a tram above. The full moon offered scant light behind wind-dispersing clouds.
Jack took a deep breath, flicked
Jack revved the car noisily. He heard the rear doors open then slam shut seconds later. Ged, Lenny and Wozza were in a heap inside, panting and cursing. The remainder of the gang paced forward; at least two more, maybe three, had handguns at their sides. One, his face contorted, headed for the car, pointing a pistol at Jack.
“For fuck’s sake, Jack. Do one. Go, go, GO!” cried Wozza.
Jack ducked. “Wait… DJ!” He leaned across, swung open the front passenger door, knocking one of the gunmen off balance. “Get in… quick…”
DJ had blood dripping from his nose but seemed to regain his senses. He scrambled into the front, legs dangling outside the swinging door. Cursing, Sniffer grabbed at DJ’s feet. Dark faces sneered, contorting angrily, closing in.
Two of the Crew turned, pointing their pistols at the Escort. Jack reversed rapidly, twirling the steering wheel. Spinning tyres echoed throughout the car park as he negotiated a handbrake turn. Sniffer was thrown off balance, while DJ slid further out, but Jack grabbed his right arm. He struggled to control the car and slammed the brake with a resounding screech. He mustered the strength to drag DJ inside, Ged stretching across to assist, receiving a sturdy trainer in the face from the stocky Sniffer in the process.
Most of the gang surrounded the Escort, banging their guns and fists on the windows and bodywork, their twisted faces and manic eyes peering in like starved zombies after their prey. A couple more ran over swinging baseball bats. The two rear side windows smashed inward, showering those inside with small chards, causing screams that mingled with a cacophony of insults and threats. The vehicle rocked from side to side.
“LET’S GO, JACK, FOR GOD’S SAKE!” Lenny’s voice crackled in panic.
A silver handgun dangled through the broken window, pointing at Wozza, who grabbed it hastily.
“Fuckin’ gimme that.” DJ snatched the pistol from Wozza.
Jack wheel-spun the vehicle forward, flicking Jerome into the air. He bounced onto the bonnet with a thud, his handgun clanging off the side of the car. A couple of hangers-on released their grips. DJ pointed his newly acquired handgun out of the window.
“No, DJ, don’t!”
“Just fuckin’ drive, Jack.”
As the car sped toward the ramp leading to level five, there was a flurry of deafening bangs, whistling and pinging sounds.
DJ, arm out of the window, fired back manically, making Jack wince repeatedly as he drove. “WANKERS!” underlined each shot until the handgun was spent, the tiny wisps of acrid smoke instantly dispersing.
Jack’s ears were still ringing from the gunshots when the rear windscreen smashed through and he felt something spatter on the back of his head and neck. He nearly lost control of the vehicle, feeling it lift onto its two rear wheels down the ramp. The car rebounded on return impact and they all bounced up, then down, in their seats. Jack managed to regain enough control for a swift right. The back end skidded to the left into the lengthy crash barriers, yanking off the bumper, which clanged noisily behind them.
Jack noticed red speckles on the windscreen and dash area. DJ wiped dripping blood from his swollen nose then stared into space. Confused, Jack continued driving.
Wozza began bawling inconsolably.
“No, no, NOOOO…” Ged’s head was in his hands.
It was only when they reached the bottom of the multi-storey that Jack looked round. Lenny was slumped forward with a dark crimson hole in the back of his head.
***
After weaving frantically through the side streets, while checking the rear-view mirror as often as a fleeing bank robber, Jack finally eased off the revs. He drew the car to a halt on a dark cobbled road a mile from the precinct. Beneath the relative sanctuary of Bullsmead railway arches, Jack heard the rumblings of a tram above. The full moon offered scant light behind wind-dispersing clouds.
Jack took a deep breath, flicked
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