You're Only Dead

by Jack Parker

  "Sure you do. Your brown satchel, yay big, brass buckles?" Emery prodded, gesturing with the gun and making his victim wince each time.

  "I told you, it was just schoolwork. Honest. I-I'm just a student; I didn't do nothin'."

  "Yeah, man, give him a break," Victor drawled, dangling Dave's gun up with one finger by the trigger guard. "Aren't most college kids packin' heat these days?"

  Dave sank down in his seat. "That's not mine."

  "Right. Some reverse pickpocket must've stuck it in your waistband whilst you were unaware, yeah?" Emery gave him a dull look. "You're a bad liar, Dave. Steve, what is it that happens to bad liars?"

  Victor frowned contemplatively. "What was it, uhhh, I know it rhymes with 'shot in the fucking face'." He paused, blinking repeatedly before turning his head to eye their passenger. "Oh wait, no, that was it. They get shot in the fucking face."

  Dave visibly gulped and looked between his captors. "Okay. O-okay, I-I was supposed to drop off that bag. I admit it. But I don't know what was in it and I don't know who it was for. They didn't tell me nothin', just handed me a few notes and told me where to go."

  "Then what's with the piece?" Emery nodded towards the gun Victor was holding.

  "They gave me that, too."

  Emery studied him for a long moment before frowning and leaning back in his seat. "Aw, Dave…I really didn't wanna kill you, mate. Stutter aside, I thought you were alright."

  "You can't," Dave squawked.

  "Got to. Besides, what's stopping me? If you're just a student, no one's gonna come after me for it, right?" Emery shoved the gun into Dave's temple, who squashed himself against the opposite door with a panicked half-sob.

  "Please don't kill me!"

  "I'm sorry, Dave. The only thing that could stop me is being convinced that you're more useful alive than dead, and I just don't see how."

  "It was for Eaton! Like you said!"

  Emery straightened up, narrowing his eyes and shooting Victor a brief look. "Go on."

  Dave's lip quivered, eyes still flashing between the two of them. "…I…it was his cut."

  "His cut of what?"

  "Eaton gets a share of the profit. I don't know why or what he does. This is the first time I ever delivered, I swear it, I'm just a bloody lackey. I don't know nothin' important."

  "Au contraire," Emery intoned. "You probably know just about everything I need. Are you going to answer my questions, or are you content with dying unimportant?"

  "I'll tell you what you want. Just don't shoot me."

  "If I like what I hear, then you've got a deal," Emery relented, slowly drawing back his weapon. "Who do you work for?"

  Dave gulped again. "I don't know his name. I just got brought onto this gig. I've only been goin' 'round with these sorts for about a week. They gave me the bag and the drop site and told me to hand it off to Eaton's men. Said it was my new job."

  "So you're supposed to be doing this from now on?"

  Dave offered a hesitant nod. "I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it was too easy. I knew I should've listened to my mum and just gone to uni like my sisters and—"

  Emery snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Pull it together. When are you doing the next drop?"

  "Every other week. Always on Tuesdays. They don't give me the location in advance. I don't know it until the day."

  "Does Eaton ever accompany the receiver?"

  Dave shook his head. "I don't think so."

  Emery bit his lip in frustration. His hunch was good alright, but it wasn't giving him as much as he needed. "Who decides this location? Who makes the phone call?"

  "Uh, Eddie, I guess." Dave shrugged helplessly. "He sort of like the secretary or something. In charge of making all appointments and whatnot. He's the one what gives me the coordinates."

  "And where's Eddie?"

  "Fuck, I dunno, probably at home."

  Emery motioned a hand to Victor. "Can I see you outside a moment, Steve?"

  Victor grumbled unintelligibly and climbed out of the car, shutting the door roughly.

  Emery turned back to Dave and patted him down before plucking a mobile phone from his jacket pocket and stuffing it into his own. "Excuse me for a minute. If you try and get out of this car they'll be finding bits of you from here to the highlands for years to come, alright? Alright." He patted Dave's rigid leg before getting out of the car. When he stepped out, Victor was giving him a look that one usually reserves for a child they're about to disown.

  "Are you fucking kidding me with this?" Victor asked.

  "It's not ideal, but it's a start," Emery defended. "He can get us to the man who makes the calls and we can have him demand to meet Hunter in person for the next drop. Or maybe meet him earlier—say there was a problem with a shipment or something and get him to come to us."

  Victor held up a finger. "Or—and hear me out here—we don't."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's ridiculous. We don't even know who these people are that you're intending to threaten."

  Emery shook his head. "I'm not going to threaten them. I'm going to bribe them."

  "Oh. So you want to simultaneously ambush and bribe someone with money you don't actually have. I don't feel like that's less ridiculous."

  "We're a bit far in to do much else," Emery argued. "Have you got any other suggestions? We've already kidnapped a bloke; we can't exactly just drop him along the side of the road with a pat on the head and a 'no hard feelings'."

  Victor pulled a beleaguered face and turned in a short circle before facing him again. "Okay, well what if the kid double-crosses us?"

  "He's a walking, talking fence post. I doubt he can hatch anything we can't see through."

  "Fair point," Victor said, glancing at the car. "So what do you want to do?"

  Emery rubbed under his nose and thought before pulling out the phone he'd swiped from Dave. "We'll make him take us to this man, Eddie, tonight. Then we'll attempt a civil discussion."

  "A civil discussion," Victor laughed hollowly.

  "With their partner in crime's son, yes. I should think he'd like to keep it civil."

  Victor rubbed his head. "Okay. Fine. But he's not fucking leading us anywhere; that's a good way to get led into a trap. Get him to have his guy come out and meet us."

  Satisfied, Emery slid back into the car, shortly followed by Victor. "It's good news, Dave," Emery said, handing his phone back. "You might be useful after all."

  "Okay," Dave replied numbly, taking the phone.

  "Where do you live?"

  "What?"

  "You heard me," Emery said impatiently. "Where do you live?"

  Dave's eyes grew more nervous. "Not far from here. Laud Street. Please, I haven't got anything there worth taking, don't—"

  "Stop talking and listen. Us three are going to take a little trip to your domicile, understand? And I want your pal Eddie to meet us there. You're going to give him a call on your mobile there, tell him there was a problem, and say you need to meet straight away."

  Dave looked down at the phone, then back to Emery before emphatically shaking his head. "I can't do that. I can't! If they think something went wrong they'll kill me!"

  Emery snatched him by the shirt collar and shoved him hard against the door, pulling out his gun. "Which is it better to gamble on, Dave? The sympathies of your colleagues, or the sympathies of a stranger who doesn't give one flying fuck about you and is about to put the barrel of a loaded gun in your mouth?"

  Dave balked, another pathetic sob working its way up.

  "Tick tock, Dave." Emery pressed the gun against Dave's lips and he jerked his head away.

  "Okay! Okay, I'll call him, just please! Please don't!" Dave cried, eyes clenched shut.

  Emery pulled the gun back. "There, that's more like it. Now make the call and put it on speaker so we might hear it."

  "Yes. Yeah, I'll do it," Dave sniffed.

  "Say anything to give us away and you'll be dead before they get
here. Understand?"

  Dave nodded again and shakily dialed a number. He fumbled, trying quickly to put it on speaker, and held his breath as it rang. It took three before someone picked up. A clipped baritone answered. "What is it?"

  "E-Eddie?"

  There was a pause. "Dave? Is that you?"

  "Yeah."

  After a long moment of silence Emery had to give him an exasperated look.

  Dave caught the hint and cleared his throat. "Uh, hi. How's it going?"

  Eddie huffed on the other end of the line. "You must be fucking joking, you wood block. What the hell do you want?"

  "Look, I-I need…your help."

  "With what?"

  "The drop."

  Another long silence. "Are you being serious?"

  "Afraid so."

  "What the fuck do you mean you need my help? You should've dropped off ten minutes ago. What in the hell have you done?"

  "It's not my fault!" Dave insisted. "It's just that…" he thought for a second, eyes panicked as they looked at Emery and Victor. "They wouldn't take it."

  "Wouldn't take it?" Eddie repeated.

  "Yeah. They said they didn't recognize me. Wouldn't take it from someone they didn't know. They got real suspicious and made off."

  "Fucking hell…" Eddie hissed. "That arrogant bastard. He was told the deliverer was changing faces… Boss isn't gonna like this."

  "What's gonna happen to me, Eddie?"

  "Quit sniveling, you twit. Do you still have the money?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then bring it back to the den."

  Dave looked to Emery, who was shaking his head. "I…can't."

  "And why the hell not?"

  "…Because I don't have a car."

  "So flag a bloody taxi cab."

  "Take a taxi? To the slums? With twenty-five thousand pounds on me? I-I can't do that."

  An irate sigh made a static crackle from the phone's speaker. "You new kids just get more useless by the day, you know that? Christ, I can't even get through my bloomin' dinner without havin' to rush off to wipe your runny noses and tie your fucking shoelaces for you. Where are you?"

  "Uh…my flat."

  "Stay there, you stupid prick. I'll be down in fifteen minutes to get it my bloody self."

  The call terminated and Emery slapped Dave's shoulder. "That was damn good, David!"

  Dave immediately shrank away, but gradually straightened up as he observed Emery's grin. "It—it was?"

  "Yeah, did a fine job. Didn't he?" Emery looked to Victor.

  "He got through a phone conversation without wetting himself. Sure, I'm proud as all fuck," Victor replied. "Let's get this over with."

  Dave nervously pointed a finger in the direction of his home.

  It was only about a two minute drive before they arrived at Dave's alleged flat. It was a small, rectangular complex that Victor parked about sixty meters away from in order to remain inconspicuous as they waited in the dark for his associate to show. Dave was antsy, rubbing his hands together between his knees vigorously and staring impatiently up at his home. "This means you're not going to kill me, right?"

  Emery snorted and looked out the opposite window. "Chances are good I was never going to."

  Dave stared at him a long moment, dumbstruck. Then he let out a relieved breath.

  Emery leaned back and pulled out another cigarette. "I have to tell you, Dave. I don't see this as being the right line of work for you."

  Dave gave him a genuine look of confusion that Emery found unbelievable. "Why's that?"

  "You're not exactly stellar under pressure, mate."

  Dave thought for a moment, scanning the floor of the car. "I guess not…but…it's not like there's anything else out there for people like me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well…I don't really know how to do nothin'. Not the studying type and I ain't good with my hands. No one's gonna hire me to do a real job, at least not one that pays anything."

  "Mm, well, gotta start somewhere, don't you? Take up a job that doesn't pay so much. It's better than this."

  Dave shrugged. "I dunno…it's probably too late for me to change my mind. I'm too old."

  Emery furrowed his brow and lit up. "How old are you?"

  "Twenty-four."

  He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and frowned. Twenty-four. Two years Emery's junior and the same age he himself was when he'd had to start life over with no skills or resources. He'd chosen a life of crime as well. Couldn't fault dear old Dave. But then look where this had all gotten him. "All the same…" Emery began softly. "Get out of this life while you can. It won't end well for you."

  Dave blinked at him. "Why not?"

  Emery leaned in with a meaningful look. "Haven't you ever wondered what happened to the last chap to have your job that he needed replacing?"

  Dave slowly paled and turned away.

  "What's this guy look like?" Victor cut in.

  "Umm, has a shaved head. Not so tall. Always got a sneer on," Dave relayed.

  "Great. So here's what's happening," Victor turned in his seat and eyed both Dave and Emery. "You two are gonna wait inside. I'm gonna wait outside and follow him in when he gets here to cover your backs. Got it?"

  Both his passengers nodded obediently and Emery tucked his gun into his coat as he looked up at Victor. "Okay. Watch yourself."

  "I'll warn you if he doesn't come alone. Keep your phone out," Victor looked like he was about to continue, but then a shadow passed over the car. Before they could react, they were suddenly surrounded at all sides by armed men. Victor slowly turned back to his seat, eyes closing as he held up his hands. "Fuck."

  Emery's eyes darted between all four men holding guns on them from outside and he bit his inner cheek. This was definitely a spanner in the works. Dave remained stiffly pressed against the door beside him.

  "Get out of the car," a voice ordered through the driver's side window.

  Emery watched with frustrated concern as Victor opened the door and was yanked out. A moment later the back doors were opening and two more men were pulling him and Dave up to the street. Emery set his hands on his head and spat his cigarette as he was frisked for his weapon. Victor mirrored his position with a cagey look in his eyes as he sized up the other men. A fellow with a shaved head was shoving Dave in the chest. "What in the hell is all this?" he demanded in a familiarly deep tone.

  "I-I don't know!" Dave squeaked, stumbling back. "They just grabbed me off the street after I made the drop, I don't know who they are!"

  Eddie thrust a finger into his face. "I knew somethin' wasn't right with this. You're damn lucky the drop confirmation came in just after you called me. Jesus, you numpty, what 'you got a gun for if you ain't smart enough to use it?"

  "They got the jump on me. I-it coulda happened to anyone."

  "But surprise, sur-fuckin-prise, it happened to you," Eddie barked. "Get your arse in the van." Dave scrambled down the street towards a parked van, shooting an uncertain look back at Emery before hurrying his stride. Eddie turned, getting up close into Victor's space. "Who the fuck are you?"

  "Just some dumbshit in over his head," Victor muttered.

  "You're not wrong there." Eddie eyed him up and down with disgust before looking to Emery. "Who sent you? What's your angle?"

  "I came of my own accord," Emery replied coolly. "I've been suspecting these goings on for some time now and I wanted to see the evidence for myself."

  Eddie showcased his aforementioned sneer. "You a detective? Is that it?"

  "No. Just someone with a vested interest."

  Eddie came closer, stabbing him in the chest with a finger. "Well that's an interest you'd a'been better off divesting yourself of, friend. Mucking about in other people's business just got you and your little yank girlfriend here killed."

  Emery raised an eyebrow. "I suppose it'll be on you to explain to Hunter Eaton why you killed his only son, then. I don't envy you that."

  Eddie stared at
him for a moment before narrowing his eyes and taking a slow step back. "That's a tall tale if I ever heard one."

  "Is it?" Emery kept his hands on his head but leaned forward. "You want to risk it?"

  Eddie looked to his companions before folding his arms, staring Emery down with contemplative animosity. "If you're really Eaton's brat, what are you doing out here?"

  "Finding out once and for all where all of his money comes from," Emery said. "I'm not stupid. I know what he's really worth. He intends to have me take over his business but refuses to fully explain the details, so I thought I'd take some initiative."

  "Then why'd you snatch the kid?"

  "I assumed he'd have information. When he turned out to be a simpleton, I tried to get him to bring me someone who knew more. Someone who could help me to confront Hunter in the middle of things—then he wouldn't be able to dismiss his criminal involvement and he'd have to tell me the whole truth. I figured you all would be amenable to that."

  "Why the fuck would you think that?" Eddie demanded. "You really suppose we give a rat's ass about your little family drama?"

  "Come on, Eddie, you're a smart man," Emery patronized, canting his head. "If Hunter hasn't told me about this business by now then it stands to reason he was never going to. Perhaps he didn't want me involved. So perhaps, if anything should ever happen to him, this little partnership he's got going on with your like is over and done with. Unless the heir to his estate, including that very private dock of his, is made aware of it."

  Clearly Emery had gambled well with the details. Eddie stared at him hard, reluctance in his eyes as he stepped back. He then sighed roughly and motioned to his companions. "Just…put them in the van before anyone spots us. We'll see what the boss thinks about this fucking mess."

  Emery only had a moment to register Victor's very tense face before they were shoved forward down the street towards a dark van parked in an alleyway. The doors opened and they were pushed inside, next to Dave, who instantly blanched with fear. "Hello again. Pardon me, sorry," Emery said casually, moving in to sit pressed against him as Victor was crushed up against his left side.

  Dave stared straight ahead, wide-eyed.

  Men filed into the van around them, two keeping watch with guns on them from seats positioned both in front of and behind them. Victor and Emery shared a glance before the van was moving, taking them to a destination unknown. It was about a fifteen minute drive before they began to slow. The van pulled into an abandoned lot somewhere against a building's side and shut off. All of the men got out, including Dave, who was the first to leap out and skitter off somewhere, leaving Emery and Victor alone for a brief moment.