Crash II: Highrise Hell (21 page)

Although George couldn't see through his tears, Liz's silence told him that she knew where this was going. Seeing the white of the letter come through the bars to him, George took it and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm sorry, Liz." Swallowing against the pain of grief lodged in his throat, he rubbed his temples. "I have to make sure my sister's okay."

Unable to tell if she was nodding or not, George waited for some other acknowledgment that never came.
 

"I'm sorry."
 

George walked away from the cage.

For the rest of the shift, George walked the perimeter of the complex and stayed as far away from Liz as he could. She wasn't staring at him anymore. The resilience she'd shown for the month he'd known her for was finally broken. George was good at destroying people.
 

* * *

It was another cloudless morning, the sharp sun beating down, the air biting at any piece of exposed skin.

The front doors to the block then swung open, and Ginge and Si stepped out. In Ginge's hand was his tennis racquet, and it was dripping with fresh blood. Glancing at Ravi, George saw the boy staring at the weapon. Hoodie wouldn't be happy with him.
 

"You can go and get some sleep now," Ginge said as he walked over to Naps and shoved him with his foot. "Wake up, you lazy cunt." When he shoved again, Naps fell out of the chair and hit the floor in exactly the same position he'd been sitting in.
 

Kneeling down, Si slipped two fingers along the side of his neck. When he looked up, he glanced from George to Ginge to Ravi. "He's dead."

Knock Knock

Knock knock
!

The noise crashed through George's dream, and he woke with a start. Opening his eyes, his world spinning, he remained dead still. A sharp splinter sat in his heart as his prematurely-ended dream came back to him. He was with Zach in the park. They both loved to go to the park. Staring at the ceiling, George's muscles felt like lead. Whoever was knocking could fuck off.
 

Knock knock knock
! The sound was accompanied by Dean's rasping voice. "Wakey wakey, Georgie. Rise and shine."

Letting out a long sigh, George lifted a tired arm and threw the bird at the back of the door as he muttered, "Fuck off, cunt."

Knock knock knock
!
 

Why didn't he get the fucking hint
? Sitting up too fast, George closed his eyes and pinched his temples to ease the sharp headache galloping through him.
 

The quick knocks were like a woodpecker to his skull.
Knock knock knock
! "Earth calling George. Come in, George."

The usual layer of fur sat on George's tongue. Swallowing the thick, muddy-tasting foam in his mouth, his dry throat pinched, tickling his gag reflex. Rubbing his face, he belched stale air and got to his feet.

Knock knock knock
!
 

Walking towards the front door on shaky legs, George made a point to take his time. Dean could fucking wait until he was ready.
 

Knock knock knock
! "For fuck's sake, George, hurry the fuck up, will ya?"

Staring at the closed door at the other end of the hallway, George stopped and started a countdown from one hundred in his head.
Fuck you, Dean
.
 

Before he'd got to ninety, the door shook in its frame.
Bang
!
Bang
!
Bang
! There was also the sound of splintering wood as dust filled the murky air. "George!"

The front door was the only thing keeping the assholes in the building away from George. It wouldn't stand up to many more hammer blows.

Rushing the last few steps, George ripped the door open.
 

The psychopath stood with his hammer raised. Dried blood matted his hair and stained the skin around his jowls. The dark stubble on his face had turned darker with the crusty claret.
 

"What do you want, Dean?"

A taught face stared back. Thin lips. Beady eyes. "How long does it take you to get out of bed?"

"What are you? My fucking mother or something?"

Dean stared.
 

"Where's Sally? Please just take me to her."
 

The hint of a smile tickled the sides of Dean's mouth. "She's fine. You don't need to worry about her. I want you downstairs. Now."

"I wants don't get." Staring at Dean, George remained rooted to the spot, his nose crinkling at the rancid tang coming from his bloodied leader. It was a thick and acrid smell. The man was walking rot. A slow roll turned George's stomach.

"I said, I want you downstairs now."

"I heard what you said."

The silence held for about a minute, during which George refused to look away and barely blinked. Dean may have been holding a hammer, but George had the might, and he could see in Dean's weasely eyes that he fucking knew it.

Exhaling, Dean softened his tone. "We need your help. We're beefing up the perimeter fence just in case we get any other gangs thinking they can come in and steal our things."

Turning his head into his flat to breathe the less toxic air, George looked back at the crusty man. "Okay. I need to get changed. I'll be down in ten minutes."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a word out, George closed the door on him.

* * *

Coughing when he stepped outside, the reek of burning bodies assaulting him. George looked at the smoking skip.
Poor Naps
.
 

The place was alive with the buzz of construction. From what George could see, he was the last one out again. All of the steel fence panels had been separated so they could be sandwiched between large sheets of plywood.
 

Watching Dean parade around on a foreman power trip, his bloodied hammer hanging down, George's top lip arced in a snarl.
What a cunt
. When Dean marched towards him, George's back tensed, and his fingers twitched, desperate to be curled into fists.
 

"So you've finally got out of bed then?"

"Yeah, thanks for that. The world's gone to shit, and I still end up with an arsehole boss giving me a fucking schedule." Blowing into his cupped hands, he then rubbed them together. It did nothing to counter the tingling bite of numbness that was currently working through them.

After staring at him for a second, Dean pointed at the waiting Ravi. "You're with him."
 

Great
! George didn't respond.
 

Nodding at a truck with sheets of plywood on it, Dean said, "I want one of those attached to each side of each fence panel. Tomorrow, we'll start digging holes so we can bury some upright poles to make them solid."

Turning away from Dean before he'd finished his sentence, George looked at Ravi, who in turn looked at the floor.

* * *

Standing on one side of the fence, the heavy board cutting into his fingers, George tried to line up one of the pre-drilled holes. With his entire body shaking beneath its weight and sweat running down his face, he got it close several times before the other side moved. "Fucking hell, Ravi, are you really that fucking weak? All you need to do is hold the fucking thing in place while I line the fucking holes up."

The only response the boy offered were grunts and groans, his board perpetually moving as he struggled with it. It was going to be a long fucking day.

Standing with his back to the ruined city, the thick smell of smoke riding the wind, George tried to focus on the job at hand. The fires weren't getting any worse. It wasn't like the buildings were all thatched roofs and wooden beams. His silent assertions did little to ease the anxiety that sat in his stomach like broken glass.

Finally lining up a hole, George slid a bolt through. Scooting across to the other side, he slipped the next one through. Stretching the pain from his lower back, he bolted the top two corners and stepped away. "Put the nuts on them, Ravi."

Scanning the city, searching for signs of onlookers, all he saw was smashed windows, fallen signage and smoke—lots of fucking smoke. Despite the headache it brought with it, George would take the chemical smell of a burning modern building over charred flesh any day. Even if it did come with the threat of a runaway fire.

Continuing to stare at the ruins, George shook his head.
How did everything fall apart so fucking quickly
? The people had stopped marching the second the drumbeat ceased. It was like they'd been waiting for it their entire lives. They'd been given the chance to return to simpler times. There was no more council tax or shitty jobs. No more interest payments on mortgages they couldn't afford. No more being a drone in a system designed to serve the most affluent. All that mattered now was food, defecation, and procreation. In the past few months, London had changed from a shining bastion of commerce to the arsehole of the world. Maybe that's all it ever was anyway.

Snapping from his daze, George turned around to see Ravi looking at him. Tutting, he pointed at the boards. "Come on, boy, hurry up with that."

* * *

"Good work, lads."
 

Standing by the trucks in a line with the other workers, George watched Dean march up and down in front of them. The letter had changed everything. The cunt had him over a barrel.
 

Spinning full circle, Dean took in the entire perimeter fence, freshly boarded from the day's work. "All finished before dark. Ginge, Jason, and Ravi, you're on the nightshift tonight."

When Ravi opened his mouth to reply, Dean stepped into his personal space, their noses close to touching. "Problem?"

Closing it again, Ravi dropped his attention to his toes.
 

Turning from the boy, Dean marched over to the truck with the women. "All I need now is some entertainment for the evening." The clanging rattle as he ran his hammer along the bars cut to the base of George's neck. It seemed to break through the daze of some of the more broken women.
 

Licking his lips, which were surrounded with crusty blood, Dean then crashed his hammer into the cage, and the women withdrew. "Which one of you lovelies will be coming with me tonight?"

Unable to calm his beating heart, George watched on.
Is he looking at Liz
? Every time Dean went anywhere near the cage, it looked like he'd pick her. It was like playing Russian roulette. The bullet would be in the chamber one day. Not that he was the one with the gun to his head. He wasn't that brave.
 

Pointing his hammer at Liz, Dean's voice came out as a low rumble. "You."

"No!" The word had left George's mouth before he'd even thought about it.
 

Rather than the expected irritation, Dean was positively glowing when he turned to face George. With his head tilted to the side, he wore his usual grin. "No?"
 

Balling his fists, George stepped forwards. "You fucking heard me. Leave her alone."

"I didn't ask for your permission, Georgie."

How did this cunt find out about Liz
? When he glanced at Si, the man looked down. Fucking scum bag. It was inevitable that he was going to rat him out sooner or later. Stepping forward, George stared straight into Dean's dark eyes. With his pulse still rampaging and a wobble running through him, he kept glancing at the hammer. "I know you didn't ask for my permission, but you ain't fucking taking her." Before he could say anything else, a pain exploded across his chest as both of his arms were yanked back. He was then forced to the ground and caught in a headlock. Shaking and writhing did nothing to throw the men loose.
 

After opening the cage, Dean clicked his fingers at Liz. "Come on, girl, it's your lucky night."

Using up valuable air, George said, "Leave her alone, you horrible cunt."

"Now that's not very nice, is it, Georgie?"

"Stop calling me that, you obnoxious prick, and leave her the fuck alone."

Darting forwards, Dean got so close that George felt the warmth of his fetid breath on his face. His soft voice crackled like thunder. "You don't tell me what to do."

Stars swam in George's vision as he fought for air. "What about my sister?"

"What about her?"
 

Some of the men, including the one with a grip on George's neck, laughed.

"You cunt! She's fucking pregnant!"

"Exactly. I don't want to fuck a whale now, do I? I've got to get it somewhere."

Liz, who had remained silent, lifted her bowed head. "Leave it, George."

"See?" Delight illuminated Dean's face. "She wants it as much as I do."

What little fight he had left drained out of George as he continued to struggle for breath. "Liz?"

When Liz looked up, there were tears in her eyes. "There's no point in fighting it, George. I knew it would happen sooner or later."

The accusation robbed George of the small amount of air left in his lungs.
 

Clamping a grip around the back of Liz's neck, her shoulders rising up to her ears, Dean then licked her face. "Listen to your girlfriend, Georgie." Staring over at Ravi, he clicked his fingers. "Come here, boy."

Without looking up, Ravi walked over to Dean's side.
 

The guy who had George in a headlock had loosened his grip, but George barely noticed as he looked at the slimy Indian kid. "What the fuck?"

Ravi avoided George's eye.
 

"Ravi, what's going on?" It was pretty fucking obvious what was going on, but maybe George was wrong? It was only last week when George was feeding his family. Surely, Dean was winding him up.
 

Snorting a laugh, Dean patted Ravi on the back. "You're coming with me, son. I don't think it'll be safe leaving you where George can get at you." Looking at Warren, he said, "You're on the graveyard shift now."

All of George's power drained from him as he watched their suited leader drag Liz away with Si and Ravi. He could have done something to save her before now, but he didn't. Glancing at the cage, his body sank. He could have done something to save them all.