Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 Read Free

sock-baw fae wan end ae the cell tae the other tae loosen up.  He then started daeing wee chips fae the smooth concrete bed that wis moulded oan tae the flair, o’er towards the door, before moving oan tae aiming fur the spy hole.  This wis mair difficult than it looked or turned oot tae be.  He took his right shoe aff and tried it wae a bare fit.  Bingo!  He could get mair ae a flick under the baw wae his bare toes.  He wis daeing well until he stubbed his big toe, which meant the shoe gaun back oan fur aboot hauf an hour till the pain eased aff.  When he finally goat roond tae daeing keepy-ups, he wis feeling quite good wae himsel.  Efter hauf an hour ae skipping aboot the cell like a diddy, he managed tae get up tae twenty wan. Efter knackering himsel oot, he lay doon oan the concrete bed and dozed aff.
      He didnae know how long he’d been snoozing fur, bit when he stirred, he hid that familiar feeling that somewan’s beady eyes wur gieing him the wance o’er.
      “Built-in radar, so it is.  That’s whit puts us aheid ae everywan else,” Tony always said knowingly, whenever The Mankys spoke aboot it. 
      Nowan could argue wae that.  They’d plenty ae examples ae when they’d instinctively known who it wis that wis gonnae walk roond the corner intae view a few seconds before it happened…especially if it involved The Stalker or his sidekick sergeant, Bumper. He opened his right eye slowly, bit due tae his position, he could only see a bit ae the bottom hauf ae the door.  He made oot that he wis turning in his sleep, letting oot a wee sly sleepy groan, tae fool whoever it wis that wis daeing the clocking.  When he opened baith his eyes, turned and found that there wisnae anywan at the spyhole, he assumed he’d jist been imagining things.  He jist aboot shat they good clean underpants that his ma hid made him put oan tae match his da’s good clean socks that he’d been kicking aboot the cell earlier, when he heard a voice.
      “Johnboy, Ah know ye’re awake, so ye kin stoap yer farting aboot,” a nippy wee voice that he hidnae heard in a long, long time said.
      “Fuck!” he yelped in fright, jumping up.
      He bolted across tae the cell door and squealed in frustration at finding it locked.
      “Aye, Ah see ye hivnae improved oan ma record-winning keepy-up score either, ya fud-pad, ye,” Skull chortled.
      “Skull?  Shit!  Oh my God!  Skull…whit the…it cannae be you?” Johnboy screeched fearfully, lifting his hauns up tae scratch baith sides ae his heid at the same time, no believing whit wis staunin in front ae they eyes ae his.
      “Of course it’s me.  Who else wid it be?”
      “Fur Christ’s sake.  Tell me Ah’m dreaming…or…or something,” Johnboy whined oot loud, gieing that heid ae his another shake and starting tae get irritated wae the sound ae his ain echoing voice bouncing back at him aff ae the tiled walls.
      “Aye, jist ma luck, hinging aboot in here wae a prick like you, waiting fur fuck knows whit.  Whit did ye say we wur in fur again?”
      “Naw, naw, c’mone noo…seriously…tell me the truth?  Is this some kind ae a joke or something?” Johnboy demanded, scanning the cell tae see if there wis a pulley operating whitever it wis that wis staunin there in front ae him.
      “Naw, it’s a bloody nightmare.  How long did ye say we’ve been hinging aboot here noo?” Skull sniffed, as he cast his eyes aboot the cell.
      Tae Johnboy, it felt like when ye’re hivving a really confusing dream or a nightmare and ye know fine well that that’s whit it is, so ye try tae psych yersel up tae waken up before it gets any worse.  Try as he might, this wis the wan and only time in his life that it didnae seem tae be working, even though he’d hid a lot ae experience ae waking up in the night in a lather.  Johnboy’s ma never allowed him anything tae eat or drink, especially tea and cheese, efter nine o’clock at night because ae his