by Ron Elliott
Ellis looked to Simon, waiting. He was forced to say, ‘What you think about that, Simon?’
‘I should report in, Ellis. On the radio.’
‘Or they might wonder where he is,’ said Ned.
‘Is that right?’
‘It’s been a while, since I turned the radio off. They’ll think it’s a worry.’
‘You haven’t even got one of those security cameras.’
‘Haven’t fitted it yet.’
‘See, this taxi’s not right. No GPS. No ... you know, that job computer. Just some old-style radio. You don’t have a panic button, do you?’
Simon had been hoping they wouldn’t notice his lack of driver safety features. ‘Part of a backlog. So they gave me the radio.’
‘So you think they’ll be sending people, if they don’t hear from you? Where’s Simon and our brand new taxi? Quick, send a SWAT team.’
Simon could feel Ellis looking at him.
‘See, I’m not so dumb, am I, Simon?’
‘No, not at all, Ellis.’
Ellis wasn’t quiet for long. ‘Why do you have such a new taxi, Simon?’
‘I had a crash.’
‘You fucked up.’
Simon didn’t reply.
‘Simon fucked up. We’re taking a big chance riding around with such a bad driver, Ned.’
‘I can drive.’
‘Give me your knife, Ned.’
Ned handed it forward, fast.
Ellis said, ‘I really want to thank you for drawing my attention to your radio.’
Simon held the steering wheel loosely, looking at the speedometer. He’d edged it up to a hundred and thirty kilometres an hour.
Ellis suddenly lunged forward and stabbed the taxi radio, popping out some buttons, then dug the knife behind it, gouging it from under the dash. It fell near Simon’s feet and he swerved a little, trying to kick it out from under the brake pedal.
‘Whoa, there Simon. Watch the road. Don’t want another little accident. Now there’s no radio. All alone. Slow down. What’s this street?’
Simon slowed, as Ellis checked the exit sign.
‘Yeah, turn here. Nice and slow.’
Ellis gave the knife back to Ned.
Ned said, ‘We don’t need this guy just because of that movie.’
‘Hear that Simon? Don’t need you.’ Ellis was peering at the houses.
‘I’ll kill him. Let me kill him for you.’
‘Can’t do that, Ned. Matter of honour, dude. See, Simon once saved my life. So I can’t just up and kill him can I? Not without a good reason. Wouldn’t be Busheedow.’
‘Saved your life?’ said Ned in wonder.
Simon wondered a little himself.
Ellis touched Simon’s arm with the revolver. ‘Stop here.’
The Hit
It was the address he’d been given. There were lights on inside the house, but the front yard was dark. A car body there, maybe. A dog barked, just once, not sure. There was a caravan down the back with a light on inside.
Ellis saw Simon look from the house to him, then back to the house.
Ned looked at the house, scared.
Ellis felt good, ready to do it.
A moth smacked into the windscreen and it was like they all woke up.
‘Time to kill the jockey,’ said Ellis.
Simon turned to him only to find the gun already pointed at his stomach.
‘Out of the car. Everyone out.’
Simon got out the driver’s side and looked towards some bushes nearby, but he saw Ellis watching as he came round the car.
Ellis whispered, ‘I’m going to shoot this guy in the head. Bang. Then, when he’s down, I’ll put one in the back, at the top of the neck. Pop. Let them know it was a professional job.’
‘Don’t do it,’ said Simon.
‘What?’
‘Don’t do the job.’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Ned.
‘Take the cash box. There’s a hundred in there. Take the taxi.’
‘A hundred bucks?’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Ned again.
Ellis ignored him, only talking to Simon. ‘I’d pay a hundred to do this.’
‘Don’t do it, Ellis.’ He was pleading.
‘Are you trying to be a fucking hero?’
‘I’ll do it. Ellis, let me do it,’ said Ned.
‘You said I saved your life. Pay me back. Don’t kill this guy.’
While Ellis was trying to sort out all the little edgy things Simon had just said, Ned stepped between them, poking Simon. ‘I’ll cut this guy and I’ll go down there and shoot the jockey, for you Ellis. I’ll blow him away as a present for you.’
‘Shut up,’ said Ellis.
‘Don’t do it, Ned. I’ve killed someone. It never leaves you.’
‘Shut up,’ said Ned.
Ellis reached past Ned and rammed the gun hard into Simon’s throat. He fell to the side of the road, coughing and gasping.
‘Shut up,’ said Ellis. Dogs were barking.
‘Let me do it, Ellis,’ said Ned.
‘Shut up, Ned. Let me think.’ There were things firing around and Ned was just noise, getting in the way of the real things. He stepped past Ned to see Simon.
He was sitting back against the taxi, clutching his throat, trying to breathe.
‘We can’t be arguing like this outside the hit, Ned.’ Ellis looked at Simon, suspiciously. Then the something that was bothering him clicked in his head and he said, ‘When did you kill someone?’
Simon didn’t say anything.
Ellis looked at Simon again, then to the house. The dogs had stopped. Ellis smiled. ‘Lying. Getting us to fight. Trying to get us to make some noise and – they’d hear. Always thinking, but not so you can catch him. See.’ Ellis punched down on Simon’s face, sending him down onto the road.
Ned stepped forward, drawing his knife back to stab Simon while he was down, but Ellis got the pistol in Ned’s face before he could go all the way. Ned looked into the pistol and stood up slowly.
Ellis waited till he saw Ned get it and go soft and obedient. Then he turned back to Simon, ‘Come on hero. Shout out. Shout out and I’ll shoot you and the gun will make a big noise and you’ll save this guy. Do it.’
Simon pushed himself back up to sitting. There was blood on his cheek from the pistol blow.
Ellis watched, ready, his feet moving up and down, keeping the balance, ready, his finger straining on the trigger, ready.
Simon swallowed, but then he reached a hand to his throat and gave a little cough, spitting up some blood. He let out a big long sigh, giving it up, and turned to look at Ellis. Not at Ellis. At the end of the gun barrel in front.
Ellis smiled. He wasn’t going to shout. He had nothing. Ellis nearly pulled the trigger, right then, just to do it. He only just stopped at the last fraction of a moment by pulling the gun away and holding it out behind to Ned. ‘Here.’
Ned took it but stayed and Ellis turned around to see him looking at the gun, confused.
Ellis said, ‘Go for his face. The jockey. You let him get close and you shoot him in the face. So he’ll go down for sure. But then you got to do that last shot in the head, Ned. That’s the kill shot. The make sure you done your business.’
Ned turned the gun from one side to the other. ‘I got this Ellis. I got it.’
Ellis took Ned’s knife. ‘You fuck this up, I’ll fuck you up, Ned. You know I will.’ He turned away from Ned, not even watching him go.
He dragged Simon up by his shirt. ‘Simon and me, we’ll be watching. Two expert killers. Giving you a score maybe.’
Ellis took Simon by the hair and steered him around to the passenger side where he pushed him in and made him get to the driver’s seat over the gearstick. Simon was being a lamb, but Ellis didn’t trust him. Not since the caravan park. Once they were settled, Ellis said, ‘Don’t do it? To pay you back? Like it was nothing important. Like saving my life all those years ago was nothi
ng to you. Like I’m ten cents?’
Ellis suddenly jabbed Simon’s bicep with the tip of the knife.
Simon flinched away but didn’t cry out.
‘You being brave, Simon? I like when people try that. It makes it last a bit longer.’
Ellis looked at the dot of blood growing on Simon’s arm.
Simon wouldn’t look at him, not even out of the corner of his grey eye like he had been doing when he was driving.
Ellis said, ‘I thought you’d do better though. I thought you’d save this guy.’
Nothing from Simon. He seemed to be looking out to the darkness ahead, trying to see past the edge of the headlights.
‘You could still call out. I’d kill you, but you’d save this person’s life. Like you saved mine.’
Simon turned and said in a hoarse whisper, ‘You hit me in the throat, Ellis. Yelling out is not something I can actually do. Even if I was brave enough. Which I’m not.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Ha. I must admit you have a point with that, Simon. That was necessary, that first punch. Too much noise. But the sucker punch, the pistol whip, while you were down. Maybe that wasn’t right. You hurt my feelings. Which I admit was kind of a good move. Trying to mess with my head there, about you’re a killer too.’
Ellis sat, looking at the side of Simon’s head. He looked at the knife and then back at Simon’s head. He wondered about stabbing the knife in there, like he did with the taxi radio and maybe dig out Simon’s secrets – see how it all worked.
‘I got it. You can’t yell, sure. But you could beep your horn. You could hit that horn and keep leaning on it and those dogs would start up again, for sure. Look, I’ll give you an even better chance.’
Ellis made a slow-motion show of carefully placing the knife in his bloody lap. ‘Simon, look. I haven’t even got the knife anymore. Look.’ Ellis raised them a foot above his lap. ‘Go for it, dude.’
Ned was having trouble negotiating the front yard in his thongs. It was dark and he kept banging his toes into scattered engine parts. He rested just past the car body near a big bush and looked back out to the road. The taxi headlights could be seen easily, and Ned wondered if he should go back and tell Ellis to make Simon turn them off. Simon wouldn’t bother him after he killed the jockey. It would be back to just Ellis.
Ned eased up the steps onto the veranda and to the front door. He tried the screen but it was locked. He started to twist the handle harder but it wouldn’t give. He peered through the flywire at the closed door just beyond. He knocked on the frame of the flywire. Then he stepped back a full step and aimed the pistol, waiting.
Simon sat looking at the car horn. Although his hands remained on his legs, his fingers were flexing.
He knew Ellis was watching. He also knew he was cheating. Although he left his nearest hand up waving where Simon could see it, his left hand had drifted down. Wherever it was, it must be close to the knife.
Then Simon saw something ahead. He peered out along the headlights beam at a girl walking towards them along the road. She was carrying a plastic bag.
Simon turned to smile at Ellis. ‘I’m not going to hit the horn. But I am going to do something with my hands.’
Ellis tensed.
‘Even if I hit the horn, it’s too late now. They’ll just come to the door to see who’s ordered a taxi. What I am going to do is bring up my hand, but keep it forward of the steering wheel. That way, even if I try to make a fast move for the horn, the steering wheel will be in the way.’
Ellis watched, then suddenly grabbed up the knife and looked at Simon’s left arm, as though it might lash out. ‘What you trying to do, Simon?’
Outside the girl stepped into the headlights.
It was quite important that Ellis watched every gesture Simon made, waiting for the final magic trick move.
‘See, I’m bringing my hand up behind the steering wheel. I’m leaning forward to get it up there, so I’m easy to stab. I can’t defend myself.’
‘What?’ asked Ellis, impatient now.
‘The headlights, see.’
Simon flicked the headlight switch from high beam to street. The girl disappeared into the new stretch of darkness.
‘I’d left them on.’
Ellis suddenly looked out the front window into the dark.
‘They’re still on.’
‘Right. Turning them all the way off. You going to let me do that.’
‘Do it.’
Simon reached around again, using his right hand in slow motion up under the steering column to get to the lights. ‘I was sitting here thinking about the horn, I have to admit, Ellis, and then I knew I couldn’t.’
Simon was looking at Ellis as he flicked the lights up to high beam for a flash before turning them all the way off.
‘What did you do?’ Ellis had seen the flash out of the corner of his eye.
‘Turned the lights off.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I saw we’d left the lights on, Ellis. I didn’t want you to blame me for leaving them on. Thinking I was pulling something on you. But I also thought, if I just said I’ve left the lights on, you’d think that was a trick to make you look so my hand could get close to the horn.’ Simon looked out into the darkness. He couldn’t see anyone.
‘You did something. I’m going to take this knife and I’m going to push it in slowly, Simon. It’s going to hurt. Tell me what you did.’
Suddenly Ned was in a lot of light. No one had answered his first knock and he’d had to do it again, and still no one had come. He finally found a button that sent a sound inside. And then the porch light came on with Ned standing right under it, holding the pistol pointed.
The door opened before Ned was set.
The man looked out through the flywire. ‘Yeah?’
Ned stood, embarrassed to not be ready.
The man looked down to what Ned was holding out to him. He stood looking at it.
The gun fired.
He fell back into the hallway, clutching his stomach. He started screaming.
Grace dropped the bag of beers where she stood in the garden and started running for the house.
In the taxi, Simon had a good view of the front veranda in all the white light.
Ellis urged, ‘Finish it, Ned. Finish it.’
Simon closed his eyes.
The shot man lay in a growing puddle of blood in his hallway trying to push his hands at his stomach.
Ned turned towards the taxi and took a step to run but made himself go back. He edged up towards the hole in the flywire and aimed the pistol at his head. A woman in a green dressing-gown came out of a door at the other end of the hall. She had white cream on her face. Ned looked at her, trying to work out why Ellis hadn’t told him about the woman.
She was running towards him. Ned lifted the gun and fired, but the shot went into a picture on the wall. She was still coming, yelling, ‘Tim!’ Ned tilted the gun and fired at the man, then ran.
Grace was coming round the side when the big man came down the steps and knocked her over. He ran off towards the taxi on the road, its lights back on showing two other men waiting.
She got to the first step but turned to see Luke come over the fence with a rifle. ‘The taxi!’ she yelled, pointing.
She didn’t wait to see what he did but heard the rifle shot as she reached the front door. Lisa wailed as she tried to prop Tim up and keep him out of all the blood. Grace stood outside the locked flywire with the three holes in it unable to reach them.
Luke pushed Grace out of the way and wrenched the flywire door open with one quick pull. ‘We need an ambulance. Grace, right now.’ He spoke calmly, as if describing how to cook meat on a barbecue.
She fumbled out her mobile, dialling 911, before remembering it was triple 0.
Luke leaned down to look at Tim. ‘Grace, I need something to stop the bleeding. Sheets.’
Grace pushed past him and ran up the hall tracking footsteps of blood to the neare
st bedroom. ‘Emergency. There’s been a shooting.’
She heard Luke still being calm. ‘Lisa, I need you to stop crying darling. Tim, can you hear me? Tim, you old beanpole, wake up. Wake up. Lisa, he can’t go to sleep, okay.’
Grace ran back with floral sheets, ‘Here. They’re on their way.’
Luke took one and just balled it at the wound, pushing. ‘Lisa, can you keep the pressure on here.’
She did, then saw Grace as if for the first time. ‘They shot Tim. With a gun.’
Luke said, ‘Grace, can you ask JJ to come here?’
Grace said, ‘Oh.’
She handed Luke her mobile with the ambulance people still talking and stepped over Tim’s legs again and went to the caravan. She felt like falling but kept from doing that – like there was a wind pushing her towards the top of a cliff. He wasn’t in the caravan, but the cupboard door was open, his side empty, but his mobile phone was still on the table.
She went outside again to see him coming from the back door of Lisa’s house with some car keys.
‘Got to get going, doll. Can’t let the cops find me here. No way.’ He went to Lisa’s Camry. His bag was already in the back.
Grace stepped between him and the open driver’s door. ‘No. You have to come and see them.’
‘What if they’re waiting out there? What if they come back?’
‘Luke needs you.’
‘We have to get out of here.’
‘No. It’s my sister. They’ve been helping.’
JJ pushed her. She fell back, cracking her head on the car roof as she kept falling across both front seats, her back catching the gearstick, sending all the air out of her. She felt JJ grab her feet and lift and push and twist her until her head went down into the passenger’s foot-well. Then JJ lifted her legs again and pushed them out of his way as he got into the driver’s side and started the car.
Grace yelled, ‘Stop. JJ. Stop now.’
But JJ didn’t stop. He didn’t even change out of second gear until they were two streets away and even he noticed the screaming engine.
Excess Baggage