AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The morning was clear and bright but cold because of the bitter wind skating its way across the city. Pedestrians huddled into winter clothing. One teenager held the flaps of her coat tightly together but flatly refused to let go of her mobile – or her burger; who the hell ate burgers at ten o’clock in the morning?
He passed Curry’s PC World on his left and Waterstones on his right, before cruising down to the bottom, where Albion Street turned into a pedestrian precinct.
The passenger moaned again, shouting for help. The driver knew he was way beyond that. It was only a matter of time, but he wouldn’t be around to see – or listen – to the results.
As the road bore round to the left, Butts Court appeared on the right. Fixed to the wall about twenty feet above were a pair of CCTV cameras.
He wasn’t concerned about those. The vehicle wasn’t registered to him. Whoever came to investigate the crime he was about to commit would draw quite a number of blanks. If and when they did make some headway, it would all be over.
His prisoner let out a banshee type scream, which ended with a question.
“For fuck’s sake what have you given me?”
The driver didn’t bother to reply. The man wouldn’t have to bear it for much longer.
He pulled the Evoque to his left, stopped, selected reverse and backed his way up Butts Court. The other end of the street was a dead end; otherwise he would have driven straight in.
Glancing out of the back window he saw a hoodie coming toward the vehicle. He was unlikely to cause a problem. Most of them were in their own world, paying more attention to their phones.
The driver pulled up near the ramp that led to underground parking. He killed the engine, jumped out and walked around to the back of the vehicle.
He glanced around. Across the road he saw a truck tight up to a loading bay. Despite hearing voices and fork trucks whirring around he doubted anyone would give him a second glance.
He opened the tailgate. The man yelled and shielded his eyes and face from the sun. His passenger had deteriorated. His complexion was pale. A vein in his neck had inflamed. He had blisters around his mouth, which had also started to swell. Another few minutes, guessed the driver, and he wouldn’t be able to speak at all. His eyes were swollen and his skin was turning red.
“What have you done to me?” The sentence had taken some effort because of the effect of the swelling of his lips.
The driver ignored him. He unlocked the handcuffs, dragged him out of the vehicle, across the pavement, dumping him into a corner between the wall and the metal fencing.
“Hey.”
The driver turned to see the hoodie, dressed in baggy warehouse jeans and white trainers. How unlucky could he be; the only hoodie in the world who actually did notice the life around him?
“What are you doing?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Is this a film?”
The driver wondered what the hell he was talking about until he glanced down at his own clothing: a white contamination suit with a white hood, and gloves.
“That looks fucking wicked,” said the hoodie, peering around, “where’s the rest of the cameras?”
His prisoner moaned, as if on cue.
The hoodie grabbed his phone and pointed it at them.
The driver wasn’t having any of that and covered the distance to the hoodie in two strides. He grabbed the man’s right hand with his left and squeezed.
The hoodie immediately buckled, dropped to the concrete, his face a ball of confusion. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Let go of the phone.”
“Me hand, me hand, you’re crushing me fucking hand.”
“If you don’t let go of the phone you won’t have a hand to worry about.”
The hoodie did as he was told, at which point he was moaning louder than the man who’d been trussed up in the back of the Evoque.
