by I N Foggarty
Struggling to keep his voice down so as not to risk attracting any other attention he glared at Walker. “You might have told me you were going to do that.”
The hobo ignored him, his shiny blade magically appearing in his hand and he hoisted his victim to his feet. “Right you great lump we’re gonna have us a little chat.”
The man did not look completely aware as Walker dragged him into the nearest empty room. A sense of Déjà vu washed over Matt when the hobo shoved the thick man up against the wall. The glint in Walker's eyes almost maniacal.
“The fuck are you,” the thick man eventually managed to blurt.
The hobo increased the pressure on the knife blade. “I’ll be asking the questions. Now, what’s your name?”
“The Fuck?” When the man tried to raise his arms Matt saw a trickle of blood run down the edge of the blade and he stopped dead.
“Well, yer mommy certainly was original wasn’t she?” Walker grinned as he spoke. “Ok, The Fuck. Let’s make this quick. My friend Matty here is looking for his girlfriend who I last saw being put into a van by some of your associates.”
The man looked at Matt and give him a cruel smile. “You’d be better of searching the streets, Kid,” he laughed. “Your bitch’s probably had so much good cock by now she won’t take yours for free.”
Anger flared up inside Matt and without thinking, he balled up his fist and struck the man hard in the gut.
“Ooof,” the man grimaced and doubled over. Walker’s arm the only thing keeping him upright. He hoped it had hurt… a lot.
“Easy there, Matty boy. We still need The Fuck here to talk.” He turned to their captive and stared into the thick man’s dark eyes. “Let me help jog your memory. She has red hair, green eyes. A temper worse than a pissed off wasp and given half a chance would probably have beat half your men black and blue.”
“I never saw her.” Walker expertly drew more blood and the man’s tone quickly changed as panic began to set in. “I swear it. They don’t bring the girls here. They don’t bring them here!”
“Well, that’s nice to know. Matty do the honours.” Instinctively Matt dealt out a second blow. The man coughed, winded, while Walker asked his next question. “Where do they take them?”
“L…L…Lots of places,” the man stammered. “I couldn’t tell you where. I don’t know!”
“Well that’s no surprise,” Walker scoffed.
“Who can?” Matt cut in.
“O…O…Only the boss would be able to find that out.” The man stared at Matt as if he were the lesser of the two questioners and so would take pity on him. The old good cop, bad cop routine.
“I already figured that,” Walker said impatiently. “Where do I find the boss?”
“H…H…His office is on the top floor at the other end of the building. He’s usually there.”
“Thank you, The Fuck.” When Walker lowered the knife, the thick man must have regained some of his confidence and he turned to Matt.
“You’re wasting your time kid. You’re bitch’s probably been fucked so hard by now that she’ll be broken beyond repair.”
Matt looked him in the eyes once more and felt another surge of rage. Everything he had discovered over the past two days meant he could not pass the man’s words off as simple goading. Anna was in serious trouble and if anything had happened to her it would all be his fault.
“Not as broken as your face is about to be,” he spat. In one fluid motion, he drew his fist back and using his entire body weight thrust it forward. A sickening crunch sounded and he felt the man’s nose break behind his knuckles. Childish.
Flexing his fingers he took a step back and Walker allowed the man’s now unconscious carcass to crumple to the floor. The feeling of euphoria slowly ebbed, the thought that they might already be too late lingering in the back of his mind. “Fuck!” he stated and shook off his hand. His knuckles felt bruised.
Beside him, he watched Walker bend down and wipe the knife on the man’s trousers before making it vanish with a flick of his wrist. “Nicely done, Matt. Only try and stay focused. You can’t break the bones of everyone in this place. Now we’d better hurry. I want to be out of here before he wakes up and tells his little buddies we’re here.”
“Yeah ok I get it. Let’s go.”
Retracing their steps the pair made their way back to the stairwell and up to the top floor without another encounter.
“Must be a very good Party,” Walker said on realising that they would be able to freely navigate the fourth floor like they had the others.
“Anna’s not here is she,” Matt then said glumly. He had hoped that the man had been lying but Walker seemed to believe him.
“No,” Walker replied stiffly. “And we’d better hope the man in charge is either in or likes to write things down otherwise we could be stuck waiting with a bomb about to go off back downstairs.”
While they made their way through the hallways of the fourth floor Matt couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. He would have thought that if this was where the head of the organisation worked that it would have at least looked the part. Instead, it had the same run-down look that the rest of the building had. When they got to the far end Walker started to check every room. “The boss’ office is not likely to be bloody sign posted,” he had said when Matt had questioned him.
Eventually, they found it. Or at least found the only room that could possibly pass for an office. Though to Matt, it looked more like an abandoned room that some office like furniture had been put into in a semi-orderly fashion.
“Bull’s-eye,” Walker said smugly as they entered through a door with a dirty glass panel in its top half and a hole in the bottom.
Flicking the switch to turn on the room’s light Matt gazed around and saw a multitude of boot prints littering the dusty floor. This had to be the place he thought. No other room they had passed had shown signs of much activity.
“Have a look at that map there, Matt,” Walker said, pointing to the wall opposite a set of boarded-up window holes. “I’m going to have a poke around in the desk.”
Matt wandered over to look at it. The display was, in fact, two separate maps that had been tacked together. Both were old and yellowing but still perfectly readable despite the dirt. The first gave a detailed view of the city and had several circles drawn on it in ink, some of which had an X through them. The second looked as though it had once been a section of a much larger map and showed not only the city but the surrounding countryside and towns. It had two circles on it one of which had been scored out.
“Now that’s more like it,” Matt heard Walker exclaim from over beside the desk. “A man after my own heart.”
He turned to look just in time to see Walker pocket a full bottle of amber liquid from the bottom desk drawer that lay wide open.
He walked over to the desk. “We’re not here to rob the place.”
“That babies even better than the one you were kind enough to give me. Far too good to be stuffed into the back of a drawer gathering dust.”
Matt looked down into the drawer and saw a multitude of bottles of different colours and volumes. “Did you find anything that might help us find Anna?” he asked on seeing that the other drawers had already been opened.
Walker held up a black ledger. “Got some addresses and lists of people stationed there. Anything interesting on that map?”
“It’s actually two maps. One of the city, the other the surrounding area. There are several places circled though some look like they’ve been crossed out.”
“Well unless our fellow likes to play a funny version of tic-tac-toe I’d wager they match up with the places listed in here.” Walker shook the ledger and strode past him towards the wall display. “So we’re here.” He pointed to East Garfield Park and the only address in the book that was in that part of the city.
Matt nodded in agreement and Walker proceeded to go through the list; they matched up perfectly.
“…w
hich means…” Walker paused. “Where the Fuck is that,” he exclaimed, pointing to the final address. “I ain't never heard of Kedron Valley.”
“Neither have I. However I bet it’s right here.” He pointed to the westernmost circle on the second map. On closer inspection, it looked to be drawn over nothing but empty space. “Looks like it’s just north of…” Matt let his finger drop. This had to be a pure coincidence he thought. “…Annawan,” he said, letting out a slow breath.
Walker chuckled. “Very nice, Matty.”
“So how do we figure out where they took Anna?”
Walker said nothing. Instead, he thumbed through the rest of the book. Eventually, he grinned once more at Matt. “Here,” he said, handing the ledger to him.
Reading the page he quickly deduced that it held a list of vehicles that the group apparently owned along with who had them and what their current registration plate was.
“That’s our van,” Walker said, pointing to an entry for a white transit. “Looks like some fella called Ramone has it at present.”
Matt didn’t need to hear any more. Hastily he flicked back through the pages of the book until he arrived at the start of the list of places. Ramone… Ramone… he muttered under his breath while he scanned the pages looking for the name.
“Kedron Valley!” Matt exclaimed on finding the name, Ramone Gonzalez.
“Chalk one up for coincidence then,” Walker said as he took the book and put it back inside the desk. “Right let’s get out of here.”
It all seemed so surreal Matt thought, following Walker to the door. Barely a day ago he had been in school and only just started to contemplate that something untoward had happened to Anna. How far he had come since then. Having found a witness to her kidnapping he had followed the lead to a black market licence plate vendor, via a strip club, all the way up to the office of a local crime boss. Now he had a location where he would find her, he just knew it.
Yet none of it would have been possible had it not been for the man beside him… Walker. Given all that had happened, he had barely given a second thought to the living, breathing… odourful enigma that was his guide. Why had he agreed to help him, much less put his life in danger for his neighbour? Drunken lechery aside it did not make sense. What on earth could Walkers angle in all of this be?
Opening his mouth to voice the question the hobo’s hand shot out to silence him. From somewhere down a not too distant hallway he could hear the sound of thundering footsteps. When a voice yelled out his heart sank and panic instantly took hold. “Get to the boss’ office quick and find the bastards!”
“Shit! RUN!” Walker yelled.
Matt didn’t need telling twice. He turned and following the Hobo and ran as if his life depended on it, which given the situation, it probably did.
Coping with loss
The engine of the van roared, a pent-up sound of frustration that seemed to echo the heavy feeling in its driver’s chest. Bestial and desperate like a hunter whose prey had eluded it at the last second. The tyres squealed in protest as for the second time that evening Ramone Gonzalez nearly toppled the vehicle onto its roof. He allowed the van to come to a standstill and released his vice-like grip on the steering wheel. A cloud of smoke and dirt billowed out around them and the smell of burning rubber drifted through the open cab windows. This was a complete an unequivocal disaster.
Everything from the moment the red-haired bitch’s eyes flashed open had happened so fast that his mind still had trouble trying to process it all. One second Roca had been hauling her to her feet, next the big man was crashing to the ground while she advanced upon him. Instinctively he had reached for his gun only for it to jam in the fucking holster; Roca’s prophecy had come to pass in part. By the time he had it free the girl had managed to land a kick on his arm. As he had struggled desperately to retain his hold on the handgun her foot had come round and struck him square in the chest. The speed at which she had moved had been beyond anything he had ever encountered in a fight. Especially one with a Bitch!
Pain flared up inside him and he had fallen backwards to the floor, winded. Struggling to regain his breath, the girl along with the boy had run past him. By the time the second girl passed he had managed to pick himself up and give chase. Adrenaline pumping he had caught up with her as she scrambled up the first set of stairs, catching her ankle and pulling her down onto the cold stone. She too had landed a kick to his sternum, albeit with nowhere near the same level of power, before he finally managed to restrain her.
Upstairs he had confronted the red-haired bitch. She had stood her ground in an attempt to stall them. By the time they had got both girls locked up and headed out in the van, the boy was nowhere to be found. How long he had driven around for Ramone did not know. They had followed the road, driven amongst the grass and done a full sweep of the area, no trace of him. Had it been daytime they might have had better luck; the darkness provided their escapee with a significant advantage.
Ramone hammered a fist against the steering wheel and cursed. What the hell were they going to do? The only thing that could make matters worse would be if… He froze on hearing his phone ring. Panic set in and he withdrew it from his pocket, Sergio. Beside him, he could see that Roca too looked worried. If he ignored it Sergio would only call back. If he told the truth…
“Hello,” Ramone answered in the calmest tone he could muster.
The thudding of heavy music filled his ear and he could only just make out the rather drunk but unnaturally happy sounding voice of his friend. “Ramone, mi Amigo!”
“Sergio.”
“Is good to hear you. Some party eh…” The music volume decreased somewhat before Sergio spoke again. “It’s Miguel’s birthday and the boys have thrown him a wild one. Ronaldo won’t be able to walk tomorrow with the amount of money e’ll ‘ave in ‘is pockets.” Being utterly rat-assed was practically a default state for Sergio. However being that happy could only have come from getting laid or some very good news.
“Sounds great,” Ramone lied.
“Listen I have good news for you. Tanya called and the bigwigs who want the brat are going to collect on Saturday. I’ve also managed to offload the other one onto Jasper. Only don’t tell him we’ve been sitting on them for days, or he’ll refuse to pay the markup. Either way, you’ll be rid of both by weeks end.”
Great Ramone thought bitterly, any doubt regarding what he would say vanishing from his mind. Sergio intending to make a double killing by the end of the week and he had only gone and lost half the merchandise.
“That’s good. Has there been any sign of the cops looking for me?” he replied, hoping to divert Sergio’s attention from the pot of money he intended to make.
“Not a word so far. You might be in the clear, Mi Amigo.”
Well, at least that was something. However, if he did not succeed in recapturing the boy he’d have to skip town anyway for he doubted that an old bond of friendship would be enough to save him from Sergio’s wrath a third time. Like in baseball three strikes meant you were out.
“That’s good to hear.”
On the other end, the music suddenly stopped and he heard Sergio shout something but it had not been directed towards him, “what the Fuck!” Ramone pressed the phone closer to his ear and tried to establish what was going on. Sergio’s booming voice roared again. “FIND THEM AND FUCKING KILL THEM!” The line went dead.
Whatever had happened on the other end did not sound good but Ramone had no desire to call back and find out what. He had his own problems to deal with. Turning he looked at Roca. “We had better go back and check on the bitches. We’re not going to find the little bastard in the dark.”
The thick man nodded in agreement. “So what are we gonna do Rae? Boss wants to sell them both by the weekend and we’ve lost one of them.”
Ramone resisted the urge to berate him for eavesdropping. It didn’t really matter that Roca had been listening in, for he would have had to explain the situation to him an
yway. Shoving the van into first, he steered it back towards the garage. “I don’t know Roca,” he admitted. “After the week I’ve had Sergio will likely try to kill us for losing that little shit. Especially if he’s worth a lot.”
For a moment the only sound came from the churning of the dirt beneath the wheels. As the garage began to grow on the horizon Roca spoke up again. “There’s always Mr Fancy Pants.”
Ramone had to think for a moment before he figured out what the big man was talking about. Even when the image of the visitor came to mind he still did not know what his comrade had meant by it, so he asked, “what about him?”
“He said that red-haired bitch could be worth 100K. If Sergio’ll be that pissed we screwed up I say we give him a phone, sell him the girl and high tail it out’a here. 50K each will go a long way.”
Ramone slammed down on the brake pedal. As the wheels screeched, the van skidded slightly and shuddered to a halt. One look at Roca’s face told him the man had not been joking. This may have been the lowest he had sunk since the Pier five incident but he could not, would not stoop to the level of betrayal and trafficking of his own volition… would he? Besides he was nowhere near that desperate yet. True he had no home, partner, money and potentially no work but that…
Ramone sighed, the reality of the situation dawning on him. If they could not find the boy then he would have nothing and there was still no guarantee that the cops wouldn’t yet come looking for him. He thought for a moment. Maria liked money more than principles. One hundred thousand dollars would surely be more than an adequate apology for all the late nights, lack of income and fights. In fact, it would give him the opportunity he had lost years ago. Again, the image of a home in the suburbs, of yelling at kids to pack in some nonsense, sprung to mind with a pang of longing. However, it would mean betraying his onetime mejor amigo and potentially disposing of his comrade. Did he like Maria more than principles? Could he really sink that low?
“So how about it, Rae?” Roca’s voice shattered the silence and his thought process like a sledgehammer breaking a concrete slab. “We sell the bitch and split. Whatcha say?”