A simple- stick up

a brilliant short story made by my talented friend George Rodrigues.

Bullets flying past my skull, I hid behind a table we knocked over when we first stormed the place, I pulled out my 38 and cocked back the hammer, but wait- what went wrong? How had I ended up in this situation?

“Silas, you still alive mate? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do this but it was too much of an opportunity to pass up,” shouted Victor.

That’s how, my getaway driver going rogue on the team. I began firing, emptying my gun at his direction but hit nothing but wall. I took cover again; I looked to my left hoping to find some sort of firearm but instead saw the bodies of Michael lying in a pool of blood and Andrew with his eyes closed just a few feet away. My heart filled with rage and the corner of my eye caught the sight of the barrel of a pistol. I grabbed it and sprung from behind the table but Victor was nowhere to be seen.

Cautiously picking up my 38 I concealed it before looking around the room, bodies of my enemies and my friends laid side by side. What was meant to be a simple stick-up with a potential result of about £20,000 and around 10 keys of coke, turned into me being double crossed, but I needed to get out of here. Someone must’ve heard all these gun shots and called the police and the last thing I needed is to be found in a crack den.

Thoughts of Michael and Andrew flooded my mind; a tear trickled down my cheek, I just couldn’t believe they were gone…all because someone got greedy. The car was nowhere to be seen, not a surprise seeing as it was the driver that got away with the money. I put my hood up and began to walk, cautious of not trying to attract any unneeded attention. Not only was I just involved in a fatal gunfight in a drug house, I wasn’t home, this wasn’t my neighbourhood and if any of these local clowns spotted me, it could become an even longer night.

My phone rang, caller ID: Victor. My rage took over me and I answered the phone unable to control what I was saying.

“You f****** snake! When I find you I’m going to take your f****** head off-” 

Before I could even finish, the sound of frenzied laughter arose out of the speaker from my mobile.

“Please Silas, save your breath. We both know that not only will you not be able to find me, but you won’t do anything if you do.”

Was this guy really trying to taunt me? I knew I never liked him from the start and the only reason I gave him the opportunity to ride out with us was because he was local so I thought I could trust him…boy was I wrong.

“Victor, you better pray I don’t find you because when I do I’m going to make you wish you were dead.”

I hung up and flagged down a passing black taxi.

Silhouettes of towering dark grey flats came into sight and as I sat in the backseat of the taxi something poked my waist. It was my gun; I needed to dispose of this as soon as possible. If I was to get caught with this and the bullets from the crack den were matched to this gun, with my record I’m looking at 15 years easy. I got out the cab just outside my flat, when I heard someone shout.

“Yo Crack!”

Crack was my ‘street name’ and what most people in the area knew me as. The person calling my ‘name’ was little Jimmy, the 16 year old that lived in the same block of flats as me, just a few doors down. He was young and slightly ‘height challenged’ but he was a loyal dude, and one of my best workers. He only worked for me to support his family, and although what he was doing was what some people would call wrong. He had heart, and I respected him for that.   

“Jimmy, if you see anybody, you haven’t seen me alright?”

“A’ight, everything cool though?”

“Come to my door in about half an hour and I’ll fill you in.”

I walked away; I needed to get out of sight. Even though this place was my home, people talk and I don’t need any one talking about me when I need to lay low.

I arrived in my flat, and collapsed into a chair. What was I going to do? I had to get rid of…         The thundering sound of a knock hit my door.

“Jimmy I said in about half an hour,” as I went to open the door the latch on the door handle struck me and left my nose bloody. It was Victor.

“You didn’t think I had forgotten about you did I? You really thought I would let you live so you can come back and kill me?” He chuckled.

I looked up, and was greeted by the icy feeling of a gun being pressed onto my forehead. As I stared at my inevitable fate, the gun swung forward hitting me in my already broken nose. I tumbled backwards, my eyes clenched together and all I could hear was the manic sound of laughter coming from my executioner and the pounding of my soon to be still heart.

“Crack!” The voice laced with innocence, resounding in my ears. I snapped open my eyes but did so too late. Victor’s muscular back faced down at me, a sheet of blackness impairing my vision, why I leant over I will never know. Rocking onto my side I locked eyes with Jimmy, his glistening eyes filled with fear. The thundering crash of Victor’s gun echoed in the room. Jimmy’s lifeless corpse crumbled to the floor and fury became my only emotion as I saw the thin red river run from the back of his head.

A primal scream erupted from my lungs and in one instantaneous motion I gripped my 38 and sprayed bullets into Victor. Victor toppled to the floor and even as he did I still pulled the trigger, the clicking of the empty barrel infuriatingly overflowing into my ears, there were no shells in the gun left, but I kept on firing.

I laid there in a shocked state of mind, as the distant sound of sirens blaring got closer and closer.