Rubicon by Ian Patrick

Author:Ian Patrick [Patrick, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fahrenheit Press
Published: 2017-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

This isn’t looking good for me anymore. His eye’s still twitching. A sense of urgency is crossing his pallid face. He’s not in the mood for bullshit or bluffing.

“Fuck me, Treacle, I thought you was dead? ’Course I remember you, now. What the fuck happened five years ago? You walked off, I was desperate for a piss and as I got behind an old Transit the place lit up. The filth were shouting and screaming and running around all over the place. I ducked my nut and held out till the morning when they all fucked off.”

His eyes tell me he’s listening as he’s looking into mine as I speak but he’s not buying it.

“You think I’m going to take that, you dirty grass. You called ’em on to the plot didn’t ya? Well now we’re back again, you and me and I’m thinking who’s coming through my door next. Strip and do it slowly.”

Standard procedure for a gatekeeper of a grow house who suspects the locksmith to be wired for sound. Of course I’m reluctant to rent my clothing even though the heat is oppressive. I have no intention of leaving here naked but do need a plan and fast.

“You what? You think I grassed you up? What about all the other jobs we were on and nothing happened? Why me? I was there don’t forget, waiting for you to come out! I’m hardly going to grass and have the old bill come to where I’m about to get a wad load of cash and a motor. You’re off your head. Working here’s fried your brain. Now we can talk all day long but I’ve got a job to do so put the piece down and let’s get on with it.”

“Who’s that?”

A gravel-sounding female’s voice emanates from a far room. She sounds drunk but odds on just stoned on a cocktail of drugs. I can hear the faint sounds of a child’s murmur coming from the same place. The child sounds sick and definitely newborn by the cry.

“Shut the kid up and don’t come out. I’ve got this.” Treacle isn’t happy either.

The gun has now moved up to my forehead and his face is in mine. The smell of sweet putrid breath spews forth as he speaks.

“Take your fucking clothes off now or I’m going to pull the trigger.”

I have limited time to waste here. I acquiesce and strip, dropping my clothing one by one on the dirt-encrusted floor. As I move to remove shoes they stick to the linoleum hall surface and as I raise my foot a tile comes up with it. Treacle just points the gun and spits until I’ve undressed fully.

“Turn around slowly and bend over.”

I do as he says.

“Happy now? Can I put my clothes back on?”

He’s not replying. I’m reluctant to turn around fully. You are when someone has a gun trained at you. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve faced one, the feeling of imminent death is still the same. I turn my head only and keep my hands down by my side.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.