Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel

by Mark Bredenbeck

  Chapter Four

  They were back in Martin's room. Tama was still buzzing from his night in the spotlight; Joseph had been more than happy to let him talk back at the pad. He had sat with an amused smile on his face, like that of a patronising uncle, when Tama had regaled the room with his exploits. Martin watched as Joseph whispered in the ears of those around him, no doubt belittling what Tama was saying. He hated Joseph Kingi with his dreadlocked swagger; he hated the hold he had over everyone, using fear to keep people in line. He did not think Joseph understood what letting Tama talk like that would do. With every detail cemented into Tama's head as legend, his self- deceit would get bigger. Tama would fool himself into feeling like someone he was not. He had longed for this type of recognition.

  Martin new Tama would shout this story to anyone and everyone who would listen, Tama the unwitting Judas in the group would bring everyone down with his loose tongue, and Joseph was stoking the fire.

  Martin had toyed with the idea of letting Tama know about the money, maybe share it with him, he had changed his mind quickly when he realised Tama's storytelling would lead right back to him and to Joseph.

  Tama had always been good at sharing though. He remembered the times he had gone to Tama's house in search of a safe place; Tama had always looked at him with knowing eyes, as if he knew exactly what he was going through. He had always given what little he had in an effort to please Martin. Tama was always trying to please people, he did not quite know where he fit in the chaotic world they lived in. They had grown up together in a shared world of poverty and hardship made worse by the weak minds of the predators that lived amongst them. Tama was his best friend. Tama was also a time bomb with its fuse lit, and as much as he loved his friend, he did not want to be near him when he finally went off.

  “Pity we didn’t get that money J man was talking about…” Tama was looking at Martin without suspicion “We would have been rolling in it, still can’t have everything right?”

  Martin did not reply. His eyes strayed to the frayed edge of carpet in the corner of his room, a shot of guilt running through his blood. Tama did not notice where he was looking, or what it meant.

  “Still, if I get a patch then I won’t need it will I” Tama feigned a few shadow punches at the wall, short breaths bursting from his mouth like a boxer in training.

  “A patch isn’t everything Tama, how much have those guys actually got… J man is about the only one with a car.” Martin realised that his friend was completely infatuated with the gang; if they took him in, he would never get his friend back.

  “It’s better than what we have now Star, they’re a fucking family, and they look after their own. I want some of that.” He was still fizzing and his words came out faster than normal.

  Martin was about to say something when he heard the faint whistle from outside in the distance, it was a warning whistle that was repeated over and over as it was passed from person to person in the neighbourhood. The unmistakable sound of big powerful engines winding up as they accelerated up the hill from the flat sea level suburbs of South Dunedin followed the whistle. A sound they recognised instantly as trouble.  

  Tama had heard the same sounds, in the drug induced space occupying his brain a couple of synapses had managed to fire in the right order, his brain had told him the trouble was coming for him, and it was probably right. Martin watched as his friends pupils dilated in fear, his breathing became short. He started to have a panic attack, something Martin had not seen since their childhood. Fear was never Tama's friend.

  He pushed himself off the bed and went to the window, outside was a blur of movement, Police cars were sliding to a halt, disgorging the occupants all dressed in black. Evil looking guns held in front of them. They were all running with a purpose, eyes visible above black scarves and below black helmets, killer ants with a single purpose, moving with precision towards their intended target.

  "What the fuck am I going to do Star? I am fucked aren't I... They're here for me. Fuck, fuck, fuck". Tama was almost in tears, the drugs and alcohol in his system messing with his reasoning. He moved about the room like a caged tiger, not finding any way out.

  Martin was beginning to panic as well, it was then he saw two armed police officers pass the window directly in front of him, close enough to touch. He could hear their boots on the path but there was no other sound. He realised that they were heading away from where his front door would be.  

  "Calm down Tama, its okay, I think they are going for your house, not mine. They don't know we are here". Tama was still wired from last night so there was no way he was going to let the Police get hold of him in that state."Quick, we'll go out the back".

  Martin opened his bedroom door quietly; he could hear Tama breathing heavily close to his ear, panic evident. He heard the explosion of a distraction blast in the distance, and then heard the black ants shouting 'armed police'. He imagined them as they swarmed into Tama's house with the big guns they were carrying.

  That was good, as they were more likely to be focusing on Tama's house and not the one they were in next door. It may give them a chance.

  Martin’s stepfather came out of the lounge room shaking his head groggily, standing in their way. "The pigs are next door, what the fuck, have you two done now?" He said, looking directly at Martin. He never spoke to Tama; he did not even acknowledge him half the time.

  "Nothing... Not that you would give a shit about it anyway". Martin tried to push past has bulky frame.

  His stepfather stood his ground, "Fuck you Martin you little bitch, once they are done next door they will be here for sure looking for you two. I am not having them kick my door in causing me aggravation. Your mother doesn't need it either."

  Martin could not believe he was trying to use his mother against him. "Fuck you, you don't give a shit about my mother, just hanging around getting wasted all the time, letting her support you. I'm not scared of you anymore you fat lazy waster...” Martin paused to catch a breath; he did not want to get into this right now. “We're out of here anyway so there won't be any aggravation".

  “I know what you have done… I know where it is.”

  “You’re full of shit old man.” Martin stared into his eyes, trying not to let the little boy in him give the predator any power. What the fuck could he know anyway?

  For a second no one spoke, the shouts outside continued, the police had not found anyone next door. He was right; the police would be here next. They had to move.

  The balance of power had shifted ever so slightly now, Martin could see it in his stepfather's eyes, they had a slight uncertain look about them, but underneath he could still see the sickness of his character.

  His stepfather relented and turned sideways letting them continue, they practically ran down the hallway towards the back door, not seeing the eyes of the predator following them.

  He turned and looked at his friend before he opened the door. Tama was freaking out; Martin could see the fuse was getting shorter. "If we get separated we will meet at the castle, you got that T?” He looked at Tama who was just staring back at him not speaking. "T have you got that? Meet me at the castle", he said more forcefully.

  "Yeah..., yeah I've got it Star, no worries, let’s get out of here", Tama finally replied, his eyes unsteady and uncertain.

  Martin let out the breath he had been holding, he knew his friend was adept at running from the Police; he had a lot of practice in all states of sobriety. Wasted or not he could run with the best of them.

  Opening the door, he stepped out into the sunshine followed by Tama. The day looked so calm and forgiving; there was not a breath of wind. The smell of freshly cut grass invaded his nostrils, the sound of a lawnmower somewhere in the distance. It was a beautiful spring day.

  He looked left towards the large hedge that separated Tama's back yard from his; they would be invisible until they climbed the back fence into the gully that ran along the back of their properties. Once in the gully they w
ould have to drop quickly into the lower part to remain out of sight. When they got into the gully, they could follow it uphill and come out near another road and from there they would make their way to the castle.

  He indicated to Tama where he intended to go and then moved quickly over the rear lawn crouching as he moved. Clambering over the fence he ducked down behind a bush, he could see a couple of police officers in Tama's back yard; they were watching the rear windows in case somebody tried to climb out. With their eyes focused on and scanning the windows, they would not be expecting anyone behind them. They had about three metres to cross in open ground before they could drop out of sight. Tama had made it over the fence and was crouching behind him.

  "Come on Star let’s get the fuck out of here", he whispered urgently.

  They stood up simultaneously and made a dash for the safety of the gully.

  Bridger had hoped they would find Tama at home sleeping it off, high on the excess and excitement of the previous night. He wanted things to progress quickly; moving quicker meant that you caught people off guard, less time for them to get their story straight; unfortunately, this morning luck was not on their side. The house clearing team had reported that the house was empty. The fact that he was not in the house might mean that he was hiding out somewhere though, scared of getting caught, and that might mean that his hunch was right and he was involved in the robbery and murder of the shop keeper.

  "He's over the back fence, heading into the gully". The urgent shout came from the rear of the house.

  Bridger made to run down the side of the house but thought better of it as a big burly police officer holding on to an equally big dog launched himself into action. The dog, sensing some excitement and the possibility of biting someone, was in front and pulling the handler by the lead around his neck.

  Bridger followed in their wake, he reached the rear yard in time to see the hairy beast leap over the back fence with the agility of a cat and tear off into the undergrowth.

  Before the handler had time to clear the fence a scream erupted from somewhere in the gully below them. A male voice yelling 'Get the fuck off me..., get it off ' followed the scream. The source of the commotion was not visible but by the sound of the frightened pain of the voice, the dog had found its intended target.

  Score one for the dog, he thought, smiling.

  Bridger climbed over the fence and followed the handler into the undergrowth, small branches catching at his shirtsleeves as he made his way further down the gully.

  Coming out into a small clearing he caught sight of the dogs rear end, it had his head buried under a small bush and seemed to be ripping it from side to side as his tail wagged excitedly. As Bridger got closer, he could hear a small whimper coming from somewhere in front of the dog, near the fangs.

  "Titan..., Leave! Leave!” The dog handler shouted the command and the dog reacted instantly, its head emerging from the shadows. It had its mouth open panting, its blood-covered teeth clearly visible. The dog looked to have a maniacal grin on its face, as if it was in ecstasy and not just having another day at work.

  "Good boy...Good boooy!” The handler praised his dog ruffling his neck and putting him back on the lead. "He's all yours Mike," he said smiling.

  Bridger crouched at the base of the bush and peered under. A bloodied and torn leg confronted him, twitching slightly as he stared at it. "Out you come then, let’s see you".

  "Keep that fucking dog away from me man", the body attached to the leg said fearfully.

  "The dogs on the lead..., if you didn't run you wouldn't have met him. I'm sure he's a very nice dog..., usually." Bridger smiled to himself; this was always the outcome when they deployed a police dog to locate an offender. This man was no different; it was hard to be tough in the presence of sharp teeth.

  The leg moved a little, then uncurled into the light revealing three big puncture wounds oozing blood and a few small tears in the flesh, not so bad looking in the light, but Bridger knew most of the damage would be below the surface, mentally and physically.

  A body followed the leg slowly from the bush, then a head appeared last, the face attached to the head had tears and snot staining its cheeks but was unmistakably that of Tama Wilson. It seemed that their luck had just changed.