Tony followed it.
He hoisted himself up onto the balcony wall and looked down. Twenty floors of apartment greeted him. The road below seemed a million miles away, like another world, people that resembled Lego men walking along it. He sighed and glanced down to see his gold stavro lying on his chest. He grabbed it and angrily ripped it from his neck, snapping the chain it hung on in half. Fat lot of fucking good this thing’s done me…
He threw it up and wide into the night air, and it disappeared in the distance with a final glint.
And then Charlie’s ghost-like voice whispered in his mind: Marco’s back….
And there’s nothing we can do.
He looked up to the sky and began shaking his head. Jesus, I don’t wanna end up like Taki. Don’t want that shit to happen to me. God, I don’t want it to happen to me. I’m fucking sorry for what I done, I’m fucking sorry! I just don’t want it to happen to me, don’t want it to happen—
Tony fell forward.
His body left the balcony, but his mind was somewhere in the sky. An exhilarating rush flowed through him as he plummeted, and suddenly it snapped in his mind that there was no turning back. This was the end. It was finally all over.
So, say goodnight to the bad guy…
And Tony Savva slammed head first into the concrete.
TWO
Nick Theodorou sat down to watch the episode of 24 he’d Sky-plussed the night before when the doorbell rang. He looked to the ceiling and growled. Motherfucking Jehovah’s Witnesses again. His mind growled like an angry dog. Gonna sort ’em out one day…
He paused his HD box and made his way to the door, gearing himself up for a verbal assault on the religious nuts. He swung the door open ready to let rip, but found his irritation was usurped by a moment of shock and surprise as if he had just been happy slapped, because instead of squaring up to fanatics with Watchtower pamphlets, he was staring at a face that he hadn’t seen for a good year or so. Someone from the past.
‘Charlie!’ he announced in a surprised tone.
Charlie lowered his bloodshot eyes and gave a solemn nod. ‘Niko,’ he replied. ‘Can I come in?’
Nick glanced past him and scanned the pavement beyond. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and for some reason that fact made his skin crawl. ‘Yeah. Come in,’ he replied, widening the door.
Charlie, head bowed, walked into Nick’s house and then turned to face him.
Nick shut the door. ‘Thought you were Jehovah’s Witness,’ he told Charlie.
‘Nah, they’re on their way,’ Charlie replied, deadpan. ‘Is it all right to talk?’ he then asked, his eyes anxiously darting left and right.
‘She’s gone to Mothercare with Nicholas,’ Nick answered. ‘She’ll be back soon though.’
‘It’ll only take a minute, Nick. I’ve got something important to tell you,’ Charlie said.
Nick took in a deep breath and was now nodding his own head. ‘Go in and sit down,’ he said and ushered him into the front room. ‘You… wanna drink?’
‘No thanks.’
Nick sat down on the sofa and picked up the HD remote. ‘Was about to watch 24,’ he stated. ‘You watch it?’
Charlie’s mouth turned downwards and he shook his head. ‘Never heard of it. What is it?’
‘Never mind,’ Nick replied and pushed the off button, turning his plasma screen black. Charlie stood over him, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight jeans.
Nick looked him up and down. ‘You look…good,’ he said to him. ‘Healthy. Fuller.’
Charlie did that nodding thing again, his lower jaw jutting out like a piranha’s.
‘Take a seat,’ Nick urged, feeling slightly unnerved by Charlie’s general weirdness; it had been a long time and he would need to get used to it again.
‘No. I’ll stand. I wanna stand.’
‘Okay.’ Nick took in a deep breath and looked him in the eye. ‘So. What is it you want, Charlie?’ he asked flat out, wanting to get to the heart of the matter. Deep down, he had already guessed what this unexpected visit was about, but it could be something else, you just never knew with Charlie.
‘Marco’s back,’ Charlie replied after a brief pause.
Nick closed his eyes; he dropped his head down in disappointment as if he had just been one number away from winning the lottery. He then rubbed his eyes with one hand for a few seconds, digesting what he’d just heard.
When he was done, he looked up at Charlie with squinted eyes. ‘Where have you seen him?’ he asked in a thin voice that had had all the confidence kicked out of it. In his own ears, it sounded like he was scared. Scared like a kid left in the dark.
‘The usual places—in the park; at the bus stop,’ Charlie replied, the expression on his face remaining neutral. ‘He left a message on my phone. Wanna see it?’
Nick nodded. ‘Go on then.’
Charlie pulled out his hand from his pocket. His phone was clutched in it; a battered old Nokia. His head twitched randomly again as he spent a second or two pushing buttons, the small beeps amplified in the otherwise quiet room. When he got the message up, he handed the phone to Nick. Nick rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen. It said:
SpEAk No EvIL
And that was all.
Nick let out a regretful sigh and handed the phone back. ‘You sure it’s him?’ he asked.
‘No question, Nick.’
‘That number could be anyone. You tried calling it?’
‘Just keep getting voicemail.’ Charlie stuffed the phone back in the pocket of his jeans and kept his hand in there with it. ‘Look, re. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, and I know you don’t believe in what I can do. But you gotta believe me in what I say…’
Nick clenched his teeth together and looked away. ‘All I know, Charlie, is that every time you say ‘Marco’s back’ someone dies—Nick Black. Tony. Fucking threw himself off a twentieth floor balcony, and Taki… well, the less said about Taki the better…’
Charlie gave Nick a grave stare as he spoke.
‘Even Snoop died…’ Nick added glumly.
Charlie frowned in disappointment. ‘Snoop died?’
Nick nodded, a blank expression on his face. ‘Liver failure.’
Silence then took over; Charlie broke it. ‘And now it’s only me and you…’ he said sombrely; depressingly.
Nick sighed again, placed a hand over his mouth, and looked up at Charlie, meeting his stare. Charlie’s eyes were dark; tired. And there was fear inside them. Fear because Marco shit him up like no one’s business. The very mention of that name probably made his balls shrivel up into hazelnuts.
Nick looked from Charlie to his 46-inch plasma TV, where his own reflection stared back at him. Yeah, Charlie was right. It was down to two. Started as six if you included Taki, but had now been whittled down to two. You and me. Charlie and Nick. Nick and Charlie. Who was gonna be last man standing? Who was gonna die next?
‘Is there anything we can do?’ he asked the blank TV, but aimed his question at Charlie. ‘Anything?’
Charlie looked down at the floor and shook his head. ‘No. There’s nothing we can do. Marco wants his pound of flesh, re. And it’s our fault. All of it…The jewels were cursed.’
Nick tutted. ‘Don’t start that skata again, re Charlie! Fucking Gods and religions and superstitious voodoo bullshit. I’ve heard enough of it for one lifetime, believe me.’
‘How else do you explain it then?’ Charlie countered, his eyes wide. ‘Hmm? Since that day our lives have been fucked!’
Nick looked away and silence ensued again.
Charlie broke it once more. ‘Still haven’t cashed mine in, you know?’ he said, rubbing his eyes.
Nick glanced up at him. ‘Why not?’
‘I told you: they’re cursed.’
‘Here we go again…’
‘Yeah, here I fucking go! You got no idea! You think you can hide behind your big house, your leather chairs and your flash fucking telly? I mean why do
you need that thing so fucking big anyway?’ Nick glanced back at his plasma and then shrugged in response. ‘It’s all cursed, re,’ Charlie continued. ‘Every brick. Every appliance, every chair, table and fucking curtain! You think they’re gonna save you? Marco’s back in town, re, and it’s just you and me now. You know what that means? I’ll lay it out for you, shall I? It means that—’
The front door then opened, shutting Charlie up mid sentence. His head spun round, a confused expression stamped on his face. He had forgotten what Nick told him when he came in.
‘She’s back,’ Nick said quiet but stern. ‘Now stop this fucking talk about Marco and cursed jewels, okay?’
A sudden realisation came onto Charlie’s face and he instantly chilled out. His hands went back into his pockets and he faced the floor. After a few seconds, a woman carrying a baby hidden inside a bear shaped baby grow entered the room. When she saw who was standing in her lounge, she stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes widened.
‘All right, babe?’ Nick said to her, but it was like she didn’t hear. She was too busy staring at the other bloke.
‘All right, Maria?’ Charlie asked before diverting his stare from her straight down to the floor, his shoulders hunching.
‘Charlie,’ Maria replied in a dispassionate tone, her shock suddenly melting into something bordering hostility. The baby in her arms let out a small cry.
‘Charlie was in the area, babe, and he popped in to say hello,’ Nick informed her, attempting to neutralise the situation. ‘He was just leaving.’
Charlie’s head twitched upwards and he stared at Nick, who was giving him a solemn stare in return. ‘Yeah…’ Charlie said. ‘Yeah, yeah. Just passing. Gotta go though.’ He flicked his eyes towards Maria and she shrunk away from him as if afraid she could catch something if she got too close. She then cleared the way for him to leave.
Charlie did that head-nodding thing again and looked down at Nick. ‘Nice to see you both,’ he said to him.
‘You too, Charlie,’ Nick replied. ‘I’ll call you sometime.’
‘Yeah, yeah…’ He headed for the door, passing Maria on the way. ‘Bye,’ he said to her, not making any eye contact.
‘Bye,’ Maria said to the floor before moving away and hitching her baby up in her arms.
Charlie left the room and a few seconds later the front door clicked shut.
When it did, Maria faced Nick, a serious and concerned look emerging on her face. ‘What did he want?’ she snapped.
‘Nothing,’ Nick replied, putting his arms out.
Maria handed him their baby; Nick took him up and touched noses with him, grinning. ‘How are you boy? Huh?’
‘Nothing?’
‘Huh?’
‘Charlie, Nick!’ Maria snapped again. ‘What was he doing here? I don’t want him near us or the baby, okay? You know how I feel about him. Bloke gives me the creeps,’ she added, shuddering.
Nick tutted. ‘I told you: he was just passing. Believe me, I don’t want him near our baby either. Believe it or not he gives me the creeps too. Don’t worry, we won’t see him again.’
Then Charlie’s words suddenly echoed in his mind: Marco’s back…
And now it’s only you and me…
Nick knew what he just told Maria was bullshit. He would be seeing Charlie over the next few days and weeks, no doubt about it, because Marco was back. And with Charlie and Marco in town, then anything could happen. Anything. A shiver jigged up his spine.
And now it’s only you and me…
Down to two. Who was gonna die and who was gonna survive? Who was gonna be last man standing?
Nick looked at his sleeping son in his arms, then at his wife, and he promised Marco and Charlie that it wouldn’t be him. No way.
No fucking way…
*****
Charlie stepped out of Nick’s house and into the cold, his mind flying in a million different directions. So much so that he barely noticed the torrent of rain that had just started up and was drenching him. Seeing Nick and Maria had sent his mind spiralling. Especially Maria. It brought back old memories that just wouldn’t die, couldn’t be muted. Along with the memories came feelings, old rotten decayed feelings that still lingered inside him, like dust in an old cellar. He knew he was going to feel this way even before he left his home to visit Nick. But he couldn’t have avoided it, it had to be done.
He trudged past Nick’s pristine Beemer, wondering when he traded in his famous XR2 for it, but then asking himself soon after if he actually cared; and the answer swiftly followed—not a damn bit. Charlie cared for cars about as much as a Hindu cares for McDonald’s. He stormed past it and out of Nick’s street, wanting to be out of eyeshot of his car, his fucking house, just anything to do with Nick Theodorou. Out of this area and back home. He didn’t care for Southgate; full of flash rich Greek boys like Nick, with their cars and mansions and gadgets.
‘And no morals to go with ’em,’ he mumbled to himself as he marched up to the bus stop on the High Street. He took a seat on the park bench by its side. It was Saturday and the place was strangely dead. Not a soul in sight. Charlie had always lived in a world devoid of life outside his own existence. One more empty Saturday morning wasn’t going to kill him.
‘No, Marco’s gonna do that, re Charlie,’ a voice in his head suddenly spoke up, hearing his thoughts and answering them. It was Zorba, a voice that had joined the others a few years ago, just after all this Marco skata had started.
‘He’s still after you, re Charlie. You think he’ll ever forget?’ Zorba continued. ‘And once he catches you, he’s gonna make kebabs out of you, re! Ha ha! And that fat prick and his cars. And I can’t wait. Pah! You all walk around thinking it will last forever, huh? One day you’ll understand, you bunch of fucking malakes. When your bodies are dust!’
Charlie so badly wanted to tell him to just get lost and leave him alone. But, he knew it would do no good; Zorba would just get more irate and then he would never leave. Charlie was old school when it came to dealing with the voices in his head. He'd been young and frightened once upon a time. Now he was just frightened.
He ignored Zorba and checked the road for the bus, wiping rain from his forehead. The street was empty.
‘Maria still looks very nice, doesn’t she?’ another voice suddenly said, displacing Zorba. It was one of the twins, the boy, Gemini Number 1.
Charlie nodded his head in response, somewhat glad to hear the little boy’s voice replacing the bitter Zorba. ‘Yeah, she did,’ he whispered under his breath.
All those emotions were now running through him again since seeing Maria. Affection? Love? He didn’t know. Didn’t know exactly what love was or what it was meant to feel like. If it was that feeling he got in his head and stomach every time he thought of Maria, then he knew it very well.
‘It didn’t take Nick long to get her pregnant, did it?’ a little girl’s voice snarled in his mind—the other twin, Gemini Number 2.
Charlie shrugged, wondering if she even knew how Nick ‘got’ her pregnant.
Nick didn’t hang around, he then thought to himself in response. That’s why we used to call him XR2, ’cos they don’t hang around either.
‘You’re just jealous,’ Gemini Number 1 retorted. ‘You and Charlie. Just jealous and angry!’
‘I am not jealous!’ snapped Gemini Number 2.
‘Yes you are! Jealous! Jealous! Jealous!’
Charlie closed his eyes. The twins were squabbling again, and that’s exactly what they were—a couple of kids squabbling in the playground.
‘We’re not jealous of Nick XR2! He’s a fat idiot! And he’s got a big nose, like a clown.’
Charlie smiled to himself. Nick had put on a lot of weight; probably from all the fine wine and expensive restaurants he was doing these days. In that sense, the twins were all right to have around; at least they could bring a smile to his face.
Now, if it was the Old Witch…
She hadn’t made an appeara
nce since the voices came back recently and he was grateful for that. Very grateful. But, he knew it was just a matter of time… He shivered at the thought, his skin crawling.
‘Anyway, Nick’s gonna die soon,’ Gemini Number 1 then said, making Charlie’s head twitch. ‘Marco’s gonna get him, just like he got Tony and the others.’
‘Marco didn’t kill Tony,’ argued Gemini Number 2. ‘Two brown skinned girls gave him some funny white powder and then pushed him off a building.’
‘No they didn’t, you liar!’
‘Did too!’
‘Did not!’
‘Not!’
‘Too!’
Charlie’s chest heaved and he rubbed his face with both hands. He wished they would stop bickering, just for a damn minute. They usually only ceased their squabbling when they were worn out of shouting at each other or when another voice took over like the Old Witch or Zorba. There was another way, the tried and tested way, but that was a path he didn’t want to tread again in his life…
‘Did too! Ever since they met Marco, he’s been killing them one by one, and he hasn’t finished yet!’ Gemini Number 1 stated.
‘No he didn’t!’
‘Yes, he did!’
‘No. He didn’t!’
Charlie wiped the rain from his forehead, Gemini Number 1’s words suddenly tripping him back to that night at the fair years ago, when all four of them were there, all alive, all well, and all together. He often reflected with deep regret how different things would be if they hadn’t gone to that fucking fair that night. But Tony was insistent. He wanted to go. Wouldn’t let it lie. And that was Tony Savva’s problem in a nut shell, God rest his soul…
Die Tryin' Page 2