Free-Falling (19 page)

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Authors: Nicola Moriarty

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Free-Falling
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‘Okay.'

‘So I'll see you soon then?' Looked like he was just going to have to wind this up.

‘Yep.'

‘Okay . . . bye.'

He hung up and packed his things up fast. Leaning over the partition, he told Coombes that he was just going to run down to the Ezymart store before Belle arrived, and asked him to let her know he wouldn't be long if she happened to turn up while he was gone. Andy strode out of work as calmly but as quickly as he could. He headed down the road and was inside Ezymart, browsing the ‘Family Planning' section (which was basically just condoms lined up next to pregnancy tests) for the most reliable kit, when it happened.

He had been choosing between ‘One Step to Happiness' and ‘Rapid Result' when a young kid walked through the door, head down, arm tucked inside his jacket – nothing special about him. Until he pulled the gun out from his jacket and started yelling at everyone to get the fuck down and stay down. He couldn't have been much older than fifteen, maybe sixteen years old, yet he was shouting at the guy behind the counter and waving the gun in his face with a crazed look of rage.

Shit, this kid could actually kill someone here.

Then Andy noticed the seeping sores on one arm of the
assailant; the guy was using his free hand to scratch savagely at them.

Ice,
Andy thought automatically to himself.
This kid must be on ice.
He stood and stared in shock for a moment, before realising that he really had better follow the guy's instructions and get the hell down. His body was well ahead of his mind, though, and he found that he was already lowering himself to the floor – his heart pounding.

‘Are you fucking deaf or something? Hand over the cash, man – all of it.' The guy behind the counter was frozen in shock too; he was fairly young himself, maybe nineteen years old, tall and lanky with a pair of thick, dark glasses framing his thin, pale face.

Give him the money,
Andy urged him with his thoughts.
Just give him the money so he gets the hell out of here.

Finally, the clerk clicked into action and began to fumble with the register. ‘I just h– have to f– find the key,' he stuttered. ‘I can't open the register without it unless there's a tr– transaction going through.' But when his hands returned from under the counter, he wasn't holding a key. He held up a gun of his own, pointing it back at the kid unsteadily.

‘L– look,' he continued to stammer, ‘my boss said no more robberies here. He's h– had enough. So why don't you just get out. Okay?'

Andy took a sharp intake of breath.
Holy shit.
It wasn't as though he was any kind of expert on these situations, but he was fairly sure you weren't going to make things any better by adding more firepower into the mix.
Just keep your fucken head down, Ando.

The drugged-up kid did not take well to having the clerk reciprocate in kind. In one swift motion, he leapt up onto the counter, then squatted down face to face with him. Without giving him a
chance to respond, the kid shoved the clerk's gun to one side and then squeezed his throat with his free hand. Instantly, there was a deafening BANG as a gun went off. The shaking staff member must have squeezed the trigger automatically. Andy jerked his head up. Had anyone been hurt? Off to the side of the counter he saw the frozen-Coke machine oozing liquid from a hole in the centre.
Thank Christ for that.
So had it scared off the kid?

Not a chance, he was madder than ever. ‘You're NOT gettin' it, buddy! I need money and you're gonna give it to me.' He screamed the words into the clerk's face. The clerk had already dropped his revolver. Obviously, the shock of actually shooting off a bullet had spooked him. He must have let go of it the instant after it fired.

Andy wondered about the other customers who were there in the shop, going through this ordeal right along with him. From his spot on the floor, halfway down the middle aisle, he had a clear view of the counter and could easily see all the action, but there was no one else in his aisle. Who was here when he had walked into the store? Who else was lying terrified on the floor behind those shelves?

The question was answered for him when a new noise was added to the commotion. A baby crying. From the sound of it, a newborn baby. Andy's heart sank as he remembered having seen a young girl over by the fridge section when he'd entered the store. She'd had a baby snuggled into her chest in one of those baby-carrier thingamys, all tucked up under a pale-blue blanket. He had probably been sleeping through the whole confrontation, completely unaware of the danger he was in until the gun went off. Andy looked down at the pregnancy test in his hand, the one that he'd picked off the shelf to consider, and imagined Belle in here with their own baby in her arms.
Oh God, that poor girl.

He couldn't really remember who else might have been in the store along with them. Maybe another couple of youngish guys – probably close to his age – in business suits. Perhaps at least one other woman, middle-aged. His mind flicked to all of the countless action movies he'd seen, where there was always at least one guy trying to play the hero who got involved with the intention of saving the day but inevitably ended up dead and made the situation a whole heap worse in the process. Usually it was a security guard, or maybe an off-duty cop or an ex-marine, conveniently and coincidently placed in the middle of the drama. Thank God no one he could picture here in the shop fitted that description. He sent a silent message to them anyway, just in case.
If any of you are thinking of doing something heroic . . . don't!

In the time that this was all running through Andy's head, mere seconds had passed. He focused on the action at the counter again and was relieved to see that the clerk had finally given in and had opened the till. The crazed kid began greedily scooping handfuls of cash from the register. Unfortunately, as he did this, the baby's wails from the next aisle began to grow louder – the young mum was having trouble comforting him. The kid paused briefly emptying the register, seeming at last to become aware of the noise. He put both hands to his ears, letting the gun spin dangerously around his finger, and yelled out angrily, ‘Someone shut that little fucker up or I will.'

There was a sob from the mother and then the sound of her desperately trying to shush her baby. Andy's heart began to beat faster still.
C'mon, you little shit, just take your money and get the hell out of here.

The kid now spun around and stood up, still on top of the counter. He was looking at his fistfuls of cash. ‘Not enough,' he whispered quietly at first. And then, louder, ‘It's not enough!'
he shouted at the top of his lungs. He surveyed the shop, able to see everyone from his vantage point up high. ‘Empty your pockets!' he ordered. ‘Cash, phones, watches – I want it all. Pull it out and put it on the floor.' Andy obeyed immediately, fishing out the contents of his pockets – phone, wallet, watch – and dumping them next to him. He could hear the rustling of other customers doing the same.

The kid next turned to the clerk. ‘All right,
friend
. You're gonna play courier for me. Collect all their stuff and bring it back here. And HURRY UP!' His voice rose hysterically at the end. He seemed to keep rapidly losing it – one second he'd be calm and rational (well, as rational as a person holding up a convenience store could be) and the next he was screaming like a psycho.

The clerk was clearly all done with any acts of defiance, heading out from behind the counter to do as he was told. He started making his way around the shop, collecting customers' valuables as instructed. When he reached Andy, he kept his back turned to the kid up on the counter and carefully slid Andy's phone back towards him, pressing it into Andy's palm, out of sight, as he picked up the wallet and watch with the other hand. His face was shiny with perspiration and his glasses had slid down his nose, slightly askew.

‘Call triple 0,' he hissed. ‘I don't know why my panic button hasn't worked yet.' Then he turned away, heading for the next aisle without waiting for a response.

Oh, crap!
How could this be happening to him? Why had the bloody clerk chosen
him
to play hero? Surely trying to dial the police would be far too risky. What would the guy on the counter do if he caught him out? Probably shoot him dead without a second thought. Andy's palm felt sweaty and slippery around the mobile. What was he going to do?

But he was saved from having to make a decision as he realised something else was now taking place. The clerk must have taken too long collecting money and jewellery from the young mum over by the fridges. The kid was jumping down and heading their way. ‘Hey, man, what the fuck are you two talking about? You think you can plot against me? You think I'm, like, stupid or something? Get away from her!'

Andy heard a sickening thud. He must have kicked the clerk to the side to get him away from the young mother. ‘What was he saying to you? Tell me!'

‘Nothing,' the girl whimpered. ‘He didn't say anything. I– I was just having trouble getting my rings off for you. They were stuck.' Possibly sensing his mother's fear, the baby started up again, wailing loudly.

‘I thought I told you to KEEP THAT BABY QUIET!'

Shit, the kid's going psycho again.
Andy couldn't bear it. He had to know what the hell was going on. All he knew was what he could hear, and that wasn't enough – he needed to see past the shelves.
If he does anything to hurt that little baby . . .

Andy made a split-second decision. He pulled himself up onto his hands and knees and began crawling towards the end of the aisle. When he reached the end, he pressed his back against the shelf and then slowly peered around the corner. Now he could make out what was going on. He felt sick as he saw the young mum clinging to her crying baby and the crazed guy towering over her, waving his gun wildly. The clerk was slumped against the fridge doors, his hand pressed against his side where the guy had kicked him hard in the gut. A look of complete terror was pasted across his face.

‘Make it shut up! Make it shut up!' yelled the kid, rolling his head as though the sound of the baby's cries were torture.

‘I'm trying,' she sobbed. ‘Hush, darling, hush, Mummy's here,' she whispered in a choked voice, her tears falling onto the baby's head.

I have to do something before he does.
Andy looked down at the phone in his hand. He shakily began to press the buttons, unlocking the key pad and then punching in the three zeros. He had never dialled triple 0 before. Was he going to be able to get the message across to the person who answered without alerting the guy to what he was doing?

Once again, he was saved from having to follow through. It looked as though the kid couldn't take the noise anymore. In one rapid movement, he swung the gun down, smashing the girl across the face with the butt, sending her sprawling. Then he leant over her and began to tug at the straps of the baby carrier.

‘I'll make it shut up. I'll make it shut up for good,' he muttered to himself as he worked at the clasps. The clerk looked away, terrified. Andy stuffed the phone back into his pocket. There was no time to wait for help to arrive. He had to do something himself. He couldn't watch this baby get hurt – maybe even murdered – right before his eyes.

Andy leapt to his feet and began to run full speed at the kid. As he ran, everything seemed to slow right down. He could see the kid about to pull the baby free from the carrier. He saw the mum, coming to after the blow to her face, opening her eyes and realising that her baby was about to be taken from her by a crazed teenager with a gun. He saw the clerk averting his gaze – determined not to get involved. And then he was launching himself at the guy, knocking him off his feet just before he could pull the baby away from his mother.

He didn't actually hear the gun go off. He didn't even feel the bullet go into his stomach. He just felt himself being thrown
backwards with incredible force. When he looked up, he saw the kid getting to his feet, staring down at him with shock, glancing from Andy to the gun in his hand and then back at Andy again, his eyes wide with the realisation of what he had just done. Then the kid was running, the gun clattering to the ground as he took off out of the store.

Next thing, people were surrounding Andy, telling him it was going to be okay. Telling him to stay calm. He could feel warm blood sliding down from his stomach and a searing pain that he couldn't quite understand. His eyes darted around at the crowd as they fussed over him. He could see horrified, frightened faces.
Why are you all so worried? The guy's gone, isn't he?
But he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why they were all panicking so much. It had something to do with that gun going off and the pain in his stomach, right? A simple thought entered his mind:
I need my mum.

His fingers closed around the phone in his pocket and he pulled it out, pressed the speed dial for his mum's work, then held it to his ear and waited for her to answer. It rang a couple of times and there was a click as she picked up and answered in her official work voice.

‘Good afternoon, Evelyn McGavin speaking.'

‘Hey, Mum?' He seemed to need to take quite a deep breath just to get those two words out.

Meanwhile, one of the suits in the shop had knelt down next to him and was taking off his jacket, pressing it against Andy's stomach.
Dude, you're going to get blood all over that.

‘Yes, dear?' his mum said abruptly into the phone.

Andy had almost forgotten he'd phoned her.
Oh, yeah, that's right, I wanted my mum, didn't I?

‘Can you please come here? I kind of need you. Yeah, I think I need you, need you now.' He practically sang the words into the
phone, then had to take another big breath.
Why was it getting so hard to breathe?

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