Hurricane Gold by Charlie Higson

Author:Charlie Higson [Higson, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Ian Fleming Publications Ltd
Published: 2010-12-23T06:00:00+00:00

17

Manny the Girl

Manny was sweating heavily and had a wild look in his red-rimmed eyes, which darted about as if he was watching a particularly manic fly zigzagging through the air.

He frowned at James. Then looked over to Precious and frowned harder, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He blinked. He rubbed his mouth.

‘Hah!’ he shouted finally, and slapped his leg. ‘I know you.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said James. ‘How could that be?’

‘I know you,’ said Manny, slowly shaking his head. ‘And I know the girl.’ He aimed his pistol at James with a trembling hand. ‘She’s the Stone girl,’ he went on. ‘Yes. I know her. Jack Stone’s little girl. And you…’ He squinted at James. ‘I know your face. I saw it in the storm. It was you. Yes. You pushed me out the window, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ said James. ‘You’re mistaken.’

‘No, no, no, no, no…’ said Manny and he grinned. ‘Oh, I got you, now. I got you good. Where’s the other one. Where’s the shrimp?’

‘Just leave us alone,’ said Precious.

‘Oh, I should kill you,’ said Manny. ‘I should shoot you here and now.’ He groaned and clutched his head. ‘God damn,’ he said. ‘I got such a headache.’ He screwed his eyes shut, forgetting about James and Precious for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked calm and relaxed, all the pain gone from his face. He looked off towards the sea then back at James, not recognising him.

‘There was somebody else here,’ he said. ‘I was talking to somebody else…’

James was staring at him, open-mouthed. When Manny had turned his head, James had seen for the first time that he was badly injured. A section of his skull above his right ear had broken away and was hanging loose, still attached by a flap of hair-covered skin. As he moved, the flap swung backwards and forwards like a door opening and closing. And as it opened it revealed a glistening patch of pinkish-grey brain behind a rubbery membrane.

His shirt collar was stained with blood, but the flow had stopped and the edges of the wound were black and scabby. James was half-revolted and half-fascinated by the wagging piece of skull.

Manny peered at the gun in his hand as if he had no idea how it had got there. He stuffed it in a pocket.

‘I’m trying to get to Vera Cruz,’ he said. ‘Is this the right road?’

‘Yes,’ said James.

‘At last someone who can speak American,’ said Manny. ‘I been up and down this road. It’s the only road open.’

‘Yes,’ said James and he pointed. ‘You want Vera Cruz? It’s that way.’

‘It sure is good to meet a friend all this way out here,’ said Manny.

James turned to Precious with a questioning look.

‘We can show you the way,’ she said.

‘Sure?’ said Manny. ‘Get in.’

As Precious passed James on her way to the car he gave her another look.

‘It’s a ride, at least,’ she muttered. She was right – it was transport, even if the driver did seem to have scrambled his brain.

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