The Survival Game (3 page)

She sighed, and then glanced once more at those two at the back of the room. Aziz was staring solemnly at her with his wear-lined face while the other one was staring at his shoes, his gelled hair pointing straight at her like a bed of nails.

‘I’ve got to go to the bathroom,’ she informed them.

‘Would you like an escort?’ Aziz asked her.

‘No, thank you,’ she replied in a courteous manner. ‘I’m fine by myself.’ She wanted as little
assistance
from them as possible.

She walked past them, and out of the room, taking one final look back at John before she closed the door behind her.

*****

John’s eyes flicked open just as the door clicked shut.

The white ceiling dominated his vision, contrasting the black night sky—the last image he saw before he was knocked sparko. Harsh spotlights burnt his eyeballs, forcing him to squint.
Where the hell am I?
he asked himself.

There was a steady beep somewhere in the near distance like he was on board a submarine that had broken through the surface of a black sea. And bullet-like, a memory from the previous night flashed in his mind. He saw a tall slender woman wearing a gimp mask firing a pistol at him, and he instantly reached for his chest.

Jesus Christ. Did that really happen?

He lifted his head, and his eyes fell upon something he recognised all too well, or rather some
one
. Now confusion
and
fear were hitting him from all angles ’cos the last person in the world he wanted to see right then was standing at the back of the room like a bad trip.

‘John? Are you awake, John?
Yiannaki
?’ Aziz repeated in his now thin Turkish accent. His eyes were wide and bulging; he looked proper eager.

John remembered very distinctly being on a job for the man standing ahead of him, but more importantly, more disturbingly, he’d managed to get his stuff half-inched while he was at it.

Ah shit… Yeah, that was right wasn’t it? It wasn’t a dream after all…

He removed the mask strapped to his face so he could to start blagging his way out of the mess he’d created. But he barely had time to start ’cos Aziz darted over to the side of his bed, a dark look carved into his mug. He was pissed, John could clearly see that, but he was also concerned about something. He touched John on his arm and as he did, a massive pain shot through his head, making him groan.

‘Listen to me, Johnny,’ Aziz said in a stern but hurried voice. ‘You’ve been in a coma for around five hours. I’ll explain more later, there’s no time now. Alisha went to the toilet. She’ll be back any minute. Listen to me—make sure you don’t tell her anything about what you were collecting from Omar last night. Okay? Don’t tell her a thing; if you have to lie, you lie, make sure—’

The door then clicked open and Alisha ambled in, cutting Aziz off mid-sentence. And just as he stopped, the serious expression that was planted on his mug suddenly became much worse. His lower jaw dropped and jutted out like an enraged bulldog’s. His eyeballs flushed bloodshot as if they were about to explode from the inside out. A low, phlegmy growl emanated from somewhere at the back of his throat. John watched on, open-mouthed, as two black horns—demon horns, shadowlike—sprouted out the top of his head like time-lapsed plants.

What the…?

John began blinking rapidly as if he were trying to shake off a hallucination. He then looked back at Aziz, but he’d already spun round to face Alisha, taking his distorted face and horns with him. Aziz made sure to put on a broad smile as he opened up his palms and held them out in front of him as if he were presenting her with a new car.

Alisha looked from his beaming face to the bed. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. ‘Is he awake?’ she asked in a highly excited voice.

‘Yes, he just woke up, my dear,’ Aziz replied with a friendly chuckle.

Alisha’s hands rushed up to her face, and when she saw a thin smile appear on John’s face, saw him give a tired wave—which was nothing more than a token gesture—tears began to stream down her cheeks like obliterated dams. She immediately bounced over to his side and smothered him.

John groaned under the immense weight, suddenly finding himself with a job on just trying to push her off. He gave her a tired shove with the little strength he had. Thankfully, it did the trick. Alisha pulled away, a sharp pain raking across John’s head at the same time. Something had happened to him that he didn’t totally understand, but he understood the pain it had left in his head perfectly well. The last thing he wanted was to be smothered and pinned down by anyone, let alone a heavily pregnant woman, even if she were his wife. It felt like being the loser in a WWF title fight,
gamota
.

When he was finally free, he breathed in deep and it felt glorious.

Alisha became still and scrutinised him with tearful eyes. It was a stare that John knew all too well—she was analysing him, cold reading him like a book from the inside out. John gave her a nervous smile and nodded. She responded by bringing her open palm back and throwing it forwards in one swift hard swipe, slapping him firmly on the cheek.

A rocket of pain erupted in John’s head and he let out a loud groan. ‘Thanks, Leesh,’ he said in a joyless voice as he rubbed his stubbled cheek.

‘You stupid shit!’ she replied in a stern tone, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘What the hell have you done now? You got me worried sick, scared the shit out of me!’

John showed her his open palm in an attempt to halt her angry rant, his eyelids shut tight.

She huffed and carried on regardless. ‘The doctors said something about…’ She stopped, made a syringe gesture with her hand and mimed the process of injecting herself in the arm.

John opened his eyes to see her doing it.

‘You better tell me that ain’t true…’ she added in a grave manner, her face a picture of anger.

John’s back straightened and he sat upright. He frowned.
Is she fucking joking,
gamota
?
The very suggestion now made
him
angry too.

‘What are you talking about?’ he curtly replied. ‘No, no, no. No way!’ He looked her in the eyes with sincerity, but she looked away. John grabbed her firmly by the arm and pulled her his way, ignoring the pain in his head. ‘Listen to me! That’s bullshit, Alisha. You know that.’

Alisha smeared a tear across her cheek. The fireworks that were in her eyes a few seconds before dampened just a touch, suggesting to John she’d cooled off a bit. The last thing he needed was her thinking
that.

‘Well, that’s what I thought,’ she retorted in a calmer voice. ‘And that’s what I told them. ‘John would never, never do that to himself
or
to me,’ I said to them.’

‘And it’s true,’ John said, adamant.

‘Well, what
did
happen, then?’

John looked past her at Aziz, whose face was just lines and shadow, those weird horns still sticking out the sides of his head making him look like Jamiroquai. The last thing he could remember was going back to his car with the travel bag when he was attacked and shot with some sort of tranquilliser dart. But he couldn’t tell Alisha
all
of that. No way. He was under orders. He’d have to lie to her, and he hated doing that.

He looked back at her with a tired, painful feeling in both his head and heart. ‘I was…’
careful,
re
Yiannaki,
‘doing my monthly delivery to Omar’s, like I do every month. I picked up the usual things, you know, like I told you—the Greek coffee, the sugar, the Cyprus brandy, the cigars, and cigarettes ’cos Aziz gets ’em cheap…’

John raised his eyebrows and nodded his head at Aziz, looking for corroboration. Alisha turned round to face him. Aziz gave her a cheesy grin, nodded, and winked. She turned back round, a slightly disgusted look on her face as if she’d just smelt five-day-old
skata
.

John forced a smile and carried on with his story. ‘So, I went down to Omar’s and parked round the back in the alley, took the stuff in, got the cash, and left. I got back to the car and was about to get in when I got jumped. By about five—five or six geezers. Pretty sure it was six, could’ve even been seven come to think of it…

Think they were Eastern European; sounded Russian. They came out of nowhere, man. One smashed me round the head with a fucking cricket bat! I sent a couple of ’em down, but there was too many. They were just laying into me from all directions, didn’t have a chance… Anyway, while I’m all fucked up from that, dazed and confused, this horrible bitch—looked just like that weirdo from the Eurythmics, Annie whatever—comes along from nowhere and shoots me with a fucking tranquilliser dart! Knocked me out stone cold with some nasty
skata
, man…’

Alisha gave him an incredulous stare. ‘Tranquiliser dart?’

John stared at her with wide eyes. ‘Yeah. Tranquiliser dart.’

Alisha gave her head a brisk shake. ‘What are you on about?’

John sat up in his bed. ‘She fucking shot me with a tranquiliser dart! I can’t put it any other way. I mean am I speaking Chinese or summink? She shot me up with some…
skata
!’

‘Stop swearing, John.’

John held up his palms. ‘Okay. I’m sorry, babe. But I’m telling you the truth!’

‘Omar mentioned taking something out of John’s chest when he found him,’ Aziz interjected, making Alisha turn to face him. ‘He said it looked like a dart…’

John pointed his hand in Aziz’s direction and smiled. ‘See?’

Alisha looked back at John with suspicious eyes.

‘I mean how can I make something as crazy as that up?’ John asked.

Alisha stared at him sideways. ‘
Hmm
. I’ve heard some doozies in the past…’

‘Yeah, but this ain’t one of ’em! She shot me up, and left me for dead. So yeah, the docs are right; there
were
drugs in my system. But
I
didn’t put ’em there!’ John crossed his arms over his chest. ‘She had this gun. She fired at me. Once she done that, I was out, and they came and mugged me like a bunch of scavengers. It was…’

John looked past her at Aziz, who was staring at him with that bizarre jutted-out lower jaw and blood-red eyes. Those shadowy horns still sat proudly on his head as well. He blinked hard, then looked again.
Yep, they’re still there…

‘It was a nightmare, Leesh, I’m telling you, babe. A fucking nightmare,’ he said softly. ‘They left me for dead,’ he added, and looked up at her with wide, sincere eyes.

Alisha stared at him for a second longer before her eyes started flashing with rage. ‘Bastards!’ she snapped angrily, spittle flying out of her mouth and landing on John’s bedcovers.

‘I told Omar millions of times about that alleyway, Johnny,’ Aziz informed him. ‘It’s not safe. There are thieves, muggers, murderers all over that area. But
he
insists that John uses it.’

‘And look what’s happened to him!’ exclaimed Alisha. ‘I can’t believe they did that to you. Knocking you out so they can mug you, I mean that’s just plain sick.’

‘They sound like pros to me,’ Ahmed interjected. ‘I mean, tranquilliser darts, that goes way beyond butterfly knives, don’t it? This lot were sophisticated.’

‘Well they’re nothing more than wankers if you ask me,’ Alisha bluntly retorted.

‘Indeed,’ agreed Aziz before clearing his throat.

‘So apart from Annie Lennox, did you get a good look at any of the others?’ Alisha then asked.

John sat further up in bed, his eyes widening with concern ’cos he knew what she was getting at with that question—
astinomia
. ‘No, no police, Leesh,’ he said, shaking his palms on the air ahead of him.

‘Why not? These bastards should pay for what they did. They can’t just get away with doing this to people. Look at the state of you.’

‘Yeah, but Alisha, it’s not a good idea to go to the police.’

‘Why not?’

‘The goods that John was delivering for me,’ Aziz interjected, making Alisha turn to face him once more, ‘had no duty paid on them. One of the reasons why I could supply them so cheap. And John was working cash in hand, if the Inland Revenue hear about that, they’ll prosecute. So, I’m afraid going to the police is completely out of the question, my dear…’

John breathed an internal sigh of relief.
Phew, well played, Aziz.

Alisha glanced back at John. He nodded his head in agreement, and then shrugged. ‘We just have to accept it,’ he told her. He anxiously watched her for the next few seconds, watched as her mind ticked over behind her eyeballs, weighing up what Aziz just said against her own angle on things. For a dreadful prolonged second, he thought she was going to act like a dog with a bone, but then to his relief, she finally caved in.

‘I suppose,’ she said before she huffed and reluctantly nodded. She rolled her eyes at the same time, telling John that she still wasn’t one-hundred percent pleased with the situation. That look added to the feelings of guilt that were already brewing inside him. He hated lying to her more than anything in the world. It made him feel sick, like a piece of shit, but right then, he was left with no choice. He had to lie about what he’d been doing at Omar’s the last six months ’cos she wouldn’t understand. Besides, Aziz told him to lie, and as he’d already managed to get his stuff nicked, he didn’t wanna piss him off even more.

He tried his best to shake off those nasty feelings of guilt ’cos he knew he wasn’t in the clear yet; there was still more work to do. He reached up, took Alisha’s hands, and rubbed them. And as he stared into her eyes, his love for her worked his stomach and diluted the guilt. Her deep brown eyes also did wonders for the pain in his head, helping to ease it. If things had gone differently the previous night, he might not have laid eyes on her ever again. He smiled at her, appreciating that fact. She half smiled back, her head cocked to the side. And just as she did, a sudden blaze of light emanated from the back of her head, shining all around it, making John squint like he’d just stared directly at the midday sun. He blinked his eyes rapidly again, and when he looked back at her, her whole head was surrounded by a lick of yellow that glowed like gold. It looked uncannily like she was wearing a…
halo?
He craned his neck forwards to get a better look.
What the hell is that,
gamota
?