ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror (9 page)

Charlie let out a little laugh.  It was a sleepy.  “You hit someone?”

Andrew laughed a little, too.  “Yeah, if you can believe it?  He’s going to be fine, though.  Which just leaves the question: what exactly happened to you?”

Charlie turned her head and looked away.  Her eyes focused on her bandages.  The sight seemed to upset her a great deal.  “What d’you think?”

Andrew leant forward on his chair.  “Frankie?”

Charlie nodded.  “He knew that I spoke to you.”

Guilt took root in Andrew’s gut and started to eat away at him, gnawing with its vicious little teeth.  “I’m so sorry.  I went and had it out with him this afternoon.  Your friend was with him and I mentioned your name.  I…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you have to believe me.  I was just trying to protect my…”  Andrew’s voice trailed off.  This girl in front of him would be scarred for life and it was his fault.  There were no excuses she needed to hear from him.  None would be good enough.

“I don’t want you to ever bother me again,” said Charlie in a voice that was forceful despite her dreary, drug-addled tone.  “This happened because of you.”

“I know.  But this also happened because of Frankie.  I may have dragged you into this, but it’s him that needs to pay.  We need to tell the police.”

Charlie shook her head.  “Frankie is a psychopath.”

“I know,” said Andrew, exasperated.  “That’s why you need to have him arrested.  I need to make sure he’s stopped before…before…”

“Before he does the same to your family?” said Charlie.

Andrew felt sick at the thought.  Earlier on, he’d been convinced that Frankie’s bark was bigger than his bite, but after the callous attack on this innocent young girl, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I’d get your family and just move,” said Charlie, sounding very sleepy now.  “I’m not…getting…involved.”

Andrew sat for a few moments, trying to formulate a counter-argument in his head, but came up blank every time.  Before he even came close to having something useful to say, Charlie had fallen asleep, deeply unconscious in the grasp of morphine-soaked oblivion.

Andrew stood up.  “I’m sorry,” he said as he left the cubicle.

Outside, the male nurse had been waiting for him.  “Everything okay?”

Andrew shook his head.  “Not at all, but for now can you take me to the boy I ran over.  Seems I have a lot of apologising to do this evening.”

***

Andrew had to sit outside the recuperation ward for over an hour while Davie slept.  He sent a text message to Pen, letting her know that the girl was okay and that he would be home soon.  He didn’t tell her that he’d also run over a young boy on the way to the hospital.  That was a conversation for later.

A plump woman came out of the ward and smiled at Andrew on her way to the nurse’s station nearby.  As she passed she told him that, “The boy is awake now.  You can go in.”

Andrew nodded his thanks and stood up.  His knees clicked as they straightened out and he suddenly felt sixty-years-old.  Inside the ward there were a dozen separate beds, half of them empty.  At the far end was the boy he’d hit, head wrapped in a bright-white bandage.  Andrew walked over and stood at the end of the bed.

“How you doing?” he asked.  “You feeling okay?”

The boy’s eyes went wide for a split-second, almost as if he recognised Andrew, but that seemed unlikely.  “Y-yeah, thanks.   Was it you that ran me over?”

Andrew nodded.

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“What?”  Andrew’s mouth fell open.  “Of course not.  I never meant it at all.  I’m really sorry this happened.”

The boy was silent for a moment as if trying to work something out.  “Okay.  So you never wanted to hurt me?”

“Of course not.  I’ve never even met you before.  I’m sorry, okay?”

The boy nodded.  “Thanks.  I was probably to blame anyway.  I was running across the road without looking.”

Andrew smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, whoever’s to blame it was just an accident.  You’re going to be okay and that’s the main thing.  I’m happy to give you a ride home when you’re ready, pal?”

“No, no, that’s okay.  I’ll make it home on my own.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Andrew.  “I hit you five miles from here.  I’m not letting you make your own way home with a concussion.”

“But-”

“No arguments.  I’ll go talk to the nurses now and see if we can break you out of here.  Then we can go get a McDonalds on the way home or something.”

The boy smiled, but then it dissolved into a frown.  “They said I’m not allowed to eat for twenty-four hours.”

Andrew winked at the boy.  “Who’s going to know?”

“Okay,” said Davie.  “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.  Where am I driving you to, anyway?”

The boy hesitated before he answered.  “T-Tanner’s Avenue.  You know it?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow.  “Tanner’s Avenue?  Great…I know the place well, actually.  I’ll be waiting outside for you, okay?”

Andrew left Davie alone and exited the ward, wondering the whole way whether or not coincidences really existed.

Chapter Nine

Davie was almost certain that the man waiting for him outside the ward was the very same guy who had been on his doorstep earlier arguing with Frankie.  While not one-hundred percent positive, Davie recognised the man’s neat brown hair and spindly posture.

Davie pulled on his jeans behind the plastic wraparound curtain of his cubicle.  Every time he peeked through the gap in the sheet, he could see the man peering in at him through the long window of the ward.

Waiting to batter me to death and finish what he started when he ran me down with his car.

Davie didn’t believe that, though.  The man –
Andrew was it?
– didn’t seem to mean him any harm.  In fact it didn’t seem that the man even knew who Davie was – or who his brother happened to be.  Davie thought about the word
coincidence
and decided that it was the correct one for the situation.  Still, what would happen when the man dropped him off at the same house he’d been at earlier?

He’ll know I’m Frankie’s brother for sure, then.
 

There was no chance of the man letting Davie make his own way home – he felt too responsible – so the best plan would be to have him stop at the end of Tanner’s avenue and drop him off there.  Davie could pretend to walk to another house then go home when the coast was clear.

Davie pushed his feet into his worn trainers and suddenly felt dizzy.  He fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes until the feeling passed.  The bump on his head throbbed rhythmically and each time it did Davie felt a little more nauseated.  The thought of telling his mother or Frankie that he’d been in an accident made him feel even more ill.

Frankie will go mad if I tell him I got run over.  Especially if I tell him who’s responsible.

After a few moments of remaining still, the sickness went away.  Davie pulled aside the privacy curtain and stepped away from the bed.  The man was still waiting outside and gave a little wave through the window as Davie approached. There was a young woman in a nurse’s uniform standing there, too.

Davie pushed through the ward’s double doors and the nurse held something out to him – a small plastic container.

“Take these pills every morning,” she said, “and at lunchtime.  They should help with the headaches.  You need absolute rest so get yourself in bed, sweetheart, and don’t leave for anything, you hear?  You have someone to look after you?”

Davie lied.  “Yeah, my mum.”

“Let’s get you home, then,” said the man, wrapping an arm around Davie’s shoulders and ushering him away.  It made Davie uncomfortable to be touched by an adult, but he did not resist.

“You really don’t have to take me, Mr…”

“I do,” he said firmly, “and you can call me Andrew.  You’re my responsibility until I get you home.  Still fancy that McDonalds?”

Davie thought about the recurring sickness that constantly rose in his tummy and shook his head.  “Thanks all the same, but I think it will just make me feel worse.  I just want to go home to bed.”

“No probs.  I’m parked right outside so I’ll have you there in ten.”

The two of them set off through the bleak corridors of the hospital, the silence growing more awkward with each passing step.  Davie considered making a run for it, but knew he wouldn’t make it more than a few yards without having to throw up.  Just strolling along like this took a concerted effort.

“This way!” said Andrew, just as Davie was about to make a turn into the reception area.  “I came in through the A&E not General Admissions.”

Davie followed Andrew into a waiting room that was empty except for a young lad with a thick clump of glass sticking out of a bleeding head wound.  He was sobbing to himself quietly as he sat there alone.

Someone’s bottled him,
Davie thought to himself, knowing the type of injury well from experience. 
The scars never go completely away.

Davie and Andrew exited the hospital and stepped into the cold breeze of the car park.  There was a bright red Mercedes parked askew across several parking bays and, as Davie got closer, he could see that the vehicle was plastered in graffiti – the words
Pedo PedoPedo
written all over it.  Davie glanced at Andrew uncertainly.

Andrew seemed to realise the situation and immediately became flustered, waving his hands and shaking his head defensively.  “No, no, no, you don’t need to worry.  That’s just the work of some idiot that’s been terrorising the neighbourhood.  His idea of a joke!”

“Ha ha,” said Davie without inflection, secretly thinking that Frankie had a weird sense of humour.  “You must have laughed all night?”

Andrew looked at Davie and then suddenly broke into laughter.  “Yeah, I had an absolute hoot!  Now come on, get yourself inside the pedo-wagon.  I want to take you home and show you my basement.  I have candy.”

Davie joined in the laughter and pulled open the passenger door when Andrew disengaged the automatic locks.  Despite the spoiled paintwork, it was still the poshest car Davie had ever been in.  The seats were soft, stitched from leather, and the dashboard had a sleek metallic sheen that was peppered with chrome-plated dials and switches.

“Nice motor,” he commented.

“Thanks,” said Andrew, sliding into the driver’s seat and strapping himself in.  “I only just got it, but I think it’s nice too.  Obviously someone felt it needed some custom paintwork, though.”

“Will it cost a lot to repair?”

Andrew started the engine and looked forward.  He shrugged.  “I imagine so.  Hopefully my insurance will cover it, but then they charge you more every month to make up for it.”

“That sucks,” said Davie, not really understanding the ins and outs of motor insurance, but assuming it was a big rip-off like everything else.  “You know who did it?”

Andrew nodded but said nothing.

Davie shifted slightly in his seat as the car began moving out of the hospital car park.  “You going to do anything about it?  To the person that did it, I mean?”

“Don’t know,” said Andrew.  “Don’t know if there’s anything I can do.”

Davie frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m a good man.  I look after my family and go to work so that I can give them a good life, but what can I do if some little shit decides to make my life hell?  The police won’t help me and I don’t know how to fight worth a damn.  Seems to me that it’s all too easy to be a thug nowadays.  No one does anything.”

The car pulled onto a main road and picked up speed. The car’s powerful engine purred along proudly.  There was no other traffic that Davie could see.  The dashboard’s digital clock said that it was a little after nine at night, which explained the empty roads. 

“Maybe he’ll leave you alone once he’s had his fun?” Davie proposed.

“Sounds like you know something about it?  You don’t go around terrorising people do you?”

Davie shook his head without even thinking about it.  You always pled innocent, no matter what.  “No, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, “but I’ve known people who do?”

The car sped up as it entered a slip road to a carriageway.  “Really?  Like who?”

The engine got louder as the vehicle picked up speed.

Davie shrugged, wondering to himself why exactly he had even instigated this conversation in the first place.  “Just kids I’ve hung around with,” he said.  “At school and that, you know?”

Andrew nodded as if he understood.  “You enjoy school?”

“Hate it,” said Davie.  “But I try my best anyway.  I promised my mum I would get a job and not end up like my brother.

Oh shit, why did I say that?

“You have a brother?”

Davie swallowed what felt like a huge lump of coal in his throat.  “Yeah.  He…moved away, years ago now, but he was always up to no good.”

“Hurting people?” said Andrew.

Davie thought about how loud Charlie had screamed when Frankie held her arm in all of that chip fat.  It was the hottest thing Davie had ever seen, bubbling and spitting like molten evil.  The young girl cried out so loudly when her hand had touched it that something must have given way inside her throat.  The tone of her voice changed pitch mid-scream.  Frankie had broken his own rule about never hurting a woman and the whole incident had sent Davie’s world spiralling.  The violence had made him feel woozy, so he’d run.  Run away from that chip shop as fast as he could. 

Then something had hit him like a tonne of bricks. Next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital with a nurse bandaging his head. 

Even now, Davie had a hard time accepting what had happened in the chip shop.  The old Frankie he’d grown up with would never have hurt a defenceless girl like that.  The old Frankie he grew up with would not have done a lot of the things he had been doing lately.

“...kay?”

Davie looked up from his thoughts.  “Huh?”

“I said are you okay?”

“Yeah.”  Davie nodded.  “Just feel a bit sick.”

Andrew turned to him and smiled.  “We’re almost there now.  Hold on.”