Chapters (17)
That was the passenger, leaning over his mate. Square crew cut, black hair, red path of razor bumps trailing around his throat. Danny saw dark eyes, avoided them and cursed. He might as well have screamed it out loud. He focused on the end of his block, bit his lip. He tried to blank his eyes from what he saw but it was tough. His dad looked tall in his pale grey tracksuit. He was talking with a neighbour, one hand running through his hair, the other moving up and down, frantic. Ice flooded Danny’s veins. The neighbour said something that made him turn and see him. Dad’s face whitened. He started to walk quickly, like the ladies in the park just after the gates were unlocked, when Danny really came home from his round.
Transport doors opened, shut. He was surrounded by figures in black. When he squinted upwards, their eyes were blank as the pub cellar, way more terrifying. He couldn’t understand their words because they came at once, a solid force until one got louder than the others repeating: ‘How’d you get dust on your clothes?’ and ‘Tell us where the dust came from, sonny’ until they released him from their pushing bodies, pointing at the place he didn’t dare to look, over his shoulder, and he saw others with their hands on ears, barking numbers and coded names, running to the concrete-grey transport, doors swinging open and crunching closed like breaking bones. The engine roared, wheels spun, smoke stinging his nose, screaming tyres making his ears ring. The loudness, fading. Danny wheeled to see them stop outside the Spotted Dog, and there was another surge of men, stiff guns and batons, screaming as they ripped at wooden boards, smashed glass with their boots, entered the pub.
He tried to run, do something, but arms around his chest held him in place even as he writhed, screaming Mo’s name, twisting his neck to escape his dad’s voice saying, ‘Shush, son, calm down.’ Danny refused to hear, yet couldn’t close his ears against him, or the retort of gunfire, final as slamming doors, sharp as a whisper, causing birds to take to the pale sky, cawing at no one. They rose over the park, wings moving in lazy stretches. He imagined they were waving goodbye.