Breakers

by Doug Johnstone

  They turned into St Margaret’s Road and Barry made Tyler pull over in the street a couple of doors before the Holt place.

  ‘Out.’

  Barry was quick out his side then round the car, pulling Tyler up and out. The dogs snarled, sensing Barry’s rage. He dragged Tyler up the driveway, their steps crunching as they went, signalling their arrival if anyone was listening. This was Barry’s plan, to just barge in and start shooting. Barry had switched guns, had the pistol in his jeans, the shotgun pointed at Tyler. They reached the front door.

  Barry jammed the shotgun into Tyler’s neck.

  ‘Wait thirty seconds then ring the doorbell.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Got it?’

  Tyler swallowed, the barrel against his Adam’s apple.

  ‘I want to hear you counting,’ Barry said.

  ‘One, two, three…’

  Barry clicked his fingers and darted round the side of the house with the dogs at his side, taking the same way they’d gone that first night here, not knowing whose house it was, what they were getting into.

  Tyler continued counting under his breath like a game of hide-and-seek. Coming, ready or not. He took a step to the side and tried to see in through the edge of the curtains. He saw Flick and Bean sitting on a sofa together watching television. Monica was sitting alongside them, her gaze in the same direction. She was out of hospital, that meant she was getting better. That was good. The three of them looked like an ordinary family. He appreciated that Monica was sitting with them, trying to keep things normal for Bean’s sake. Bean was still in her school uniform and had a little smile on her face. She laughed at something on screen and looked at Flick to share the joke. Flick smiled at her but it was a thin gesture. He tried to read Monica’s face, whether she was sympathetic with these two, or burning up because of what Barry had done. She’d seemed passive in hospital, but she was just out of a coma, that could change you. Maybe she’d had time to think things over, maybe she wanted Barry and him dead, just like Kelly.

  Tyler guessed that had been thirty seconds. He wondered what would happen if he didn’t ring the doorbell. He thought about what Barry had planned. He thought about the two guns and killer dogs.

  He rang the doorbell.

  Waited.

  Expected an explosion, something dramatic.

  Silence.

  He hoped the girls stayed on the sofa, kept their heads down.

  He heard a click behind him.

  ‘Don’t move.’

  A figure emerged at his side. The brother-in-law Sonny. He had a handgun pointed at Tyler’s head, finger on the trigger.

  The front door opened and there were Deke and Ryan, both holding sawn-off shotguns. One thing was for sure, even if Tyler survived this he could never go back to school, could never sit in the same building as Ryan Holt again.

  ‘Barry is at the back door,’ Tyler said.

  ‘We know,’ Deke said. ‘Come in.’

  There was an explosion that made the house shake and everyone flinched. Sonny grabbed Tyler’s jacket and hauled him inside, using him as a shield. The gunshot had come from the back of the house, then the sound of wood splintering, Barry kicking the back door in. There were more shots. Tyler could see right down the hall to the kitchen. Two big guys with pistols were there firing at the swinging back door.

  As Tyler was hustled into the hall, he saw Ant and Dec lunging through the doorway straight for the thugs, one going for a gun hand and ripping at it, the second launching himself at the throat of the other guy. Both guys were muscle-bound and hard but they weren’t expecting this. A psycho with a shotgun was fine, but trained fighting dogs were a different matter. Both of them were on the floor already, the dogs snarling and tearing at their hands and faces, one taking a chunk out of a guy’s neck, the other moving down the body to sink its teeth into the meat of his man’s midriff. He screamed and writhed, trying to get away. Both of them had dropped their guns, which lay on the floor waiting to be grabbed.

  Sonny still had a hold of Tyler, shoving him further into the hallway.

  Ryan stood with his mouth open watching the dogs slaver and snarl, while Deke took aim and shot, grazing one of the dogs’ rumps, making it yelp for a moment, then return to thrashing at the guy under him.

  Barry emerged through the kitchen door and fired, the blast from the shotgun zipping past Tyler’s head. Deke and Ryan ducked into the doorway of the living room, Ryan disappearing inside and Deke staying in the doorframe and returning fire. Sonny was crouched behind Tyler, who was the only one exposed to Barry’s fire now. Two more shots roared out from the kitchen.

  Deke returned fire from the living-room doorway and so did Sonny, the pistol next to Tyler’s right ear, the crack of it deafening.

  Barry fired again, this time with Flick’s Beretta, short, punchy sounds that shook Tyler and felt so close to him that he wondered for a moment if he’d been hit.

  Sonny had loosened his grip at the sound of Barry’s shots so Tyler saw his chance and wrenched himself free, running down the hallway past Deke and sliding into the kitchen, tumbling onto the tiles. He reached for one of the guns on the floor and grabbed it, scuttling backwards into the corner of the room.

  He saw Barry emerge from the other corner of the kitchen to fire again down the hall. A shot came from behind Tyler, Deke or Sonny, and shattered the kitchen window behind Barry’s head.

  Barry spotted Tyler in the kitchen with him, holding the gun, and he grinned.

  ‘Don’t fuck with the Wallaces,’ he shouted. He had a gun in each hand now, a swagger in his movements, both dogs still tearing into the guys on the floor.

  Tyler took a quick look back down the hall at Deke hiding in the doorway and Sonny now crouching behind the bottom of the stairs. From this angle, Tyler could hit both of them. He thought about Ryan in the living room with Bean and Flick, Monica too. He turned back to Barry, who let two shots off down the hall, making the others duck back.

  Tyler lifted the gun and pointed it at Barry’s face.

  Barry’s smile faded and he shook his head, more in disappointment than fear. He swung both his guns round to point at Tyler but Tyler pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times, plugging bullets into Barry’s face and chest, throwing him backward against the dishwasher and the sink with a clatter, then he fell forward onto the floor, the guns skittering away from his body.

  Tyler stood and strode towards Ant and Dec, pointed the gun at the first dog’s head and pulled the trigger, a spray of blood and brains over the guy underneath him, then he took two more steps and did the same with the other dog, catching it between the eyes, it’s face splitting open, bone splintering and blood splashing against the kitchen cupboards.

  The vacuum in the air after the shriek of gunfire was painful. Tyler’s ears sang, his heart roared with blood. The two guys on the floor were moaning, curled up, the mass of the dead dogs lying on top of them. The tang of blood and gun smoke hung in the air. Tyler stood there amongst the bodies and breathed. He looked at the dogs, their heads half missing, blood splattered across the sheen of their coats, their muscled legs. He turned to look at Barry. Blood pooled under his hair, spreading down and out around his face. His eyes were open, staring at nothing. A bubble of blood escaped his mouth, burst and dribbled down his cheek.

  ‘Don’t move.’

  Deke was behind him. Tyler turned and saw him approaching with his shotgun, careful steps into the kitchen. Behind him Sonny had crouched down to check on the nearest of the guys savaged by the dogs. He pushed the dog’s body off him and helped him to sit up against the cupboard door, a hand on his neck failing to stop the blood oozing out of the wound.

  Deke was just a few feet away now.

  Tyler looked at him, then down at his own hand holding the gun. It felt like it didn’t belong to him, like it was a separate entity. He opened his palm to get a better look at the gun he’d used to kill his brother and the dogs.

  He looked up at Deke again, then dropped the gun with a cl
atter on the kitchen tiles and raised his hands.

  Deke kept the shotgun on him and went to Barry’s body. Nudged it with a toe, then again, harder. Barry moved like a lump of meat, then flopped back. Deke grabbed Barry’s scalp and lifted his head, looked into his eyes. He crouched there for a moment in silence, then dropped the head in a splatter of blood.

  He stood up and waved the gun at Tyler.

  ‘Through there.’

  He walked Tyler out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  When Deke came in, Ryan straightened his back. He was standing in the middle of the room, shotgun pointed at Flick on the sofa. Monica had her arms around Bean, who was crying. When Bean saw Tyler she tried to get up and run to him, but Monica held her where she was, whispering in her ear and stroking her arm, calming her. Bean took gulping breaths, her face puffy.

  Tyler shared a look with Flick. She was relieved but angry too. And scared. He didn’t blame her.

  Moans came from the kitchen where Sonny had stayed to check on the other mauled guy.

  ‘What happened?’ Ryan said.

  Deke waved his gun at Tyler, smiling. ‘This cunt shot his brother. Dropped him like a sack of tatties. Three shots, clinical. Then he executed the dogs.’

  Ryan frowned. He looked edgy, his shotgun swaying between Bean and Flick on the sofa.

  Tyler pointed at him and spoke to Deke. ‘Can he lower that gun?’

  Deke looked at Tyler then turned to Ryan. ‘Put it down, you’re as likely to shoot your mum as anyone.’

  Ryan lowered the shotgun but kept his eye on Tyler with a look of resentment.

  It was only now that Tyler noticed the bay windows. They’d been replaced already since Barry smashed them earlier. There was a smell of petrol in here but no sign of damage to the carpet, curtains or furniture. Who can get fire damage and panned windows fixed so quick? Someone with a shit ton of money and connections. Someone not to be fucked with.

  Tyler looked at Bean and Flick. He tried to think what to say but nothing came to him.

  Sonny appeared in the doorway. ‘The boys need help.’

  Deke frowned. ‘Get Malone over here.’

  Sonny got his phone out and went back to the kitchen.

  ‘I did what you asked,’ Tyler said. ‘I brought you Barry.’

  ‘You let him shoot the back door in while you stood as a decoy at the front.’

  ‘He had a gun on me.’

  ‘Not when you were alone at the front door.’

  ‘I told you as soon as I could.’

  Deke scratched his chin, thinking.

  Monica was still holding Bean, comforting her. Flick sat motionless on the sofa, looking at Tyler.

  ‘You said you’d let the girls go,’ Tyler said.

  Deke smiled. ‘I also said you couldn’t trust me.’

  ‘I could’ve brought the police. I didn’t.’

  ‘I would’ve killed the girls.’

  Tyler glanced at Bean. ‘I dealt with Barry for you.’

  Deke nodded to himself, still thinking.

  Monica spoke up, her tone calm. ‘What are you going to do, Derek?’

  ‘They’ve seen too much,’ Deke said.

  Monica patted Bean on the arm and got up. She approached Deke slowly, holding her back at the stab wound.

  ‘There’s been enough violence here,’ she said.

  Deke pointed at Tyler. ‘They violated our home. They almost killed you.’

  With Monica off the sofa Bean ran over to Tyler, the sudden burst of movement making Ryan raise his gun at her. She clutched at Tyler’s waist, pressed herself into his chest.

  Tyler raised a hand at Ryan’s gun. ‘For fuck’s sake, please.’

  Ryan hesitated but eventually lowered it.

  Monica pointed at Tyler and spoke to Deke, low and soft. ‘He didn’t stab me, you know that. The other one did and now he’s dead. He killed him.’

  Deke thought that over.

  Monica rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘He called the ambulance, Derek. He saved my life.’

  Tyler closed his eyes and squeezed Bean.

  Monica spoke again. ‘It’s over. Please.’

  Deke thought about that for a long time. He looked at Monica then Flick, then at Tyler and Bean. He looked around the room. Tyler followed his gaze and noticed splintered wood in the doorframe from Barry’s shotgun blasts, stains on the carpet from his own bloodied shoes. He thought about the mess through there. So much to clean up, so much to forget about.

  Deke looked at Monica who still had her hand on her back.

  ‘OK,’ he said eventually.

  He turned to Tyler. ‘You were never here.’

  Tyler nodded.

  ‘We’ve never met,’ Deke said. He looked at Flick. ‘Any of us.’

  Tyler felt Bean clutching at him, and he rubbed her back in reassurance. ‘Got it.’

  Deke touched his forehead. ‘If I ever come across your name or face again, you’re dead.’

  ‘Of course.’ Tyler swallowed. ‘What about Barry?’

  Deke looked into the hall. ‘I’ll deal with that.’ He gestured towards the doorway with the gun. ‘Go. All of you.’

  Flick jumped from the sofa and walked towards the door. Tyler followed, holding Bean’s hand as she kept her head down. He paused at Monica and Deke.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  41

  He was wrestling with a two-headed dog, its faces snouted versions of Barry and Kelly. Their fangs snapped at his face, tearing skin from his neck and cheek, claws ripping his body. Another dog with Bean’s face had his arms pinned while the first one savaged him. Bean smiled at him as all the flesh, sinew and muscle was torn from him, leaving only a blood-soaked skeleton. Bean-dog leaned down and licked the blood from his skull then sucked at his eyeballs until they popped out.

  His phone was ringing. He bolted awake and looked round. He was in Flick’s parents’ bed, with Flick at the other side and Bean snug between, hugging Flick’s elephant. Lying across the bottom of the bed were Snook, Mario and Luigi.

  Light slipped through the gap in the curtains, it was morning already. He grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. A quarter to nine, Bean was late for school, not that he had any intention of taking her today. Then he remembered it was Saturday. The weekend. When real families did stuff together, went out on their bikes, trips to the park or beach, shops or the cinema.

  He recognised the number calling him. He worried that the ringing would wake the girls so he got out of bed and answered it as he left the room.

  ‘Tyler?’ Pearce. Voices in the background.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘We’ve been to your flat this morning, your mum doesn’t know where you or Bethany are.’

  ‘She’s safe with me.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘A friend’s house.’

  A pause down the line. He couldn’t work out if she was sighing or talking to someone else with the mouthpiece covered.

  ‘The same friend as before?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  This time definitely a sigh.

  ‘I need you to come back to the station.’

  Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Why?’

  ‘I think you know why.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Barry is dead.’

  A long pause. ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. He was found in his burnt-out car along with his dogs.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘You don’t sound very upset.’

  ‘Should I be?’

  ‘Or surprised.’

  Tyler looked at the doorway of the bedroom, where Flick and Bean were still sleeping. He heard a gentle thump then one of the pups came tottering out of the room and up to him, tail wagging. He bent down to stroke it and it snuffled at his fingers.

  ‘Barry was into a lot of bad stuff,’ he said. ‘You know that as
well as I do.’

  The puppy licked the palm of Tyler’s hand and it tickled.

  ‘Just get down here,’ Pearce said. ‘Do I need to send a car?’

  Tyler looked around at the Ashcrofts’ house. ‘I’ll get a bus.’

  Same meeting room as before, so still not an official interview. The door opened and Pearce came in carrying two mugs of coffee. She hadn’t asked if he wanted anything, had just presumed. She put one in front of him then sat down across the table, blowing on her own. Like two pals having a chat, apart from all the dead bodies they had to discuss.

  ‘So,’ she said.

  Tyler raised his eyebrows. He looked out of the window, remembered the squabbling seagulls from last time, wondered if they hung out in the car park all the time, creatures of habit like the rest of us. Or if they’d managed to break the cycle of their lives. If that was even possible.

  ‘So,’ he said.

  He sipped the coffee. It was too milky. He put the mug down.

  Pearce studied him over the steam of her mug. ‘What can you tell me?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘The death of your brother.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s him?’

  Pearce nodded. ‘Your mum identified the body this morning.’

  Tyler swallowed. ‘How was she?’

  Pearce paused and stared. ‘How do you think she was? It wasn’t easy, given the nature of his remains. Want to know the details? The top half of his body was completely burnt, pretty much a melted puddle of flesh. But bodies burn in weird ways, and there was less damage to his lower half. She mentioned a birthmark on his foot and there it was, a bit charred but recognisable.’

  Tyler hadn’t even known that Barry had a birthmark on his foot. It made him feel queasy. Of course Angela had known, Barry was her son just like Kelly was her daughter. She wasn’t the best mother in the world but she was the only mum they ever had. Her two eldest children were now dead. Tyler tried to get his head around that.

  Pearce took a sip of coffee. ‘So what do you know?’

  ‘Where was the car?’

  ‘You tell me.’

  ‘You think I did this?’