Dark Angel - a gripping serial-killer thriller with a nail-biting ending by Chris Simms

Author:Chris Simms [Simms, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Richmond ePublishing
Published: 2021-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

When they got to the doorway they had been in earlier, they found a young-looking bloke – nineteen at most – sitting there. He had a pinched face and a shaved head. Grimy fingers were holding an upturned baseball cap that was nestled in the folds of Greg’s blanket. Jon had seen his type many times before; usually in the back of a police vehicle after he’d arrested them.

‘Hey pal,’ Greg announced in a kindly voice. ‘That’s my spot.’

He looked off to the side. ‘Empty when I got here.’

‘And that’s my blanket, too.’ Greg peered behind him. ‘Been eating my scran as well, have you?’

He reached back, picked up Greg’s shopping bag and let if fall to the pavement.

Greg looked at Jon. ‘This is the thing nowadays. These youngsters are showing up and they don’t give a shit about how things are done.’

The lad yawned, seemingly oblivious to Greg’s comment. Jon knew there would be no reaction from him while things were just verbal. Only the threat of actual violence got through to people like him.

Maybe sensing that, too, Greg shook his head as he retrieved his bag. ‘You’ve got some learning to do, son.’

‘Do I look like your fucking son?’ he shot back, still staring off to the side.

Greg floated a pained glance at Jon. ‘Come on, we’ll go down to Deansgate. See what’s doing there.’

Jon let Greg get a couple of steps in front before turning back and leaning into the doorway. ‘Want to stop me taking this?’ He started to pull the blanket off the lad’s legs.

The fingers gripping the cap immediately uncurled. Jon saw his other hand start bunching into a fist. He bent lower, bringing his lips close to the lad’s ear. ‘Please try it, you scummy little turd.’ He moved back, giving the lad space to swing, if he wanted to.

A second of eye contact passed. The lad’s fist relaxed and he scowled at something off to the side. ‘Have it, like I give a shit.’

Jon reached down and gathered it up. ‘Good decision, fucktard.’

The youngster seemed to slump in on himself as he announced in a whining voice, ‘What’s your problem? Christ.’

Jon walked off, always amused at how quickly they could switch from aggressor to victim. ‘Here you go.’

Greg turned round, eyes flicking momentarily to the doorway then back to Jon. ‘I won’t ask what you said,’ he whispered, stuffing the blanket into his bag.

They walked in silence along Portland Street for a while. Across the road, Jon could see a small group sitting among a variety of bags. They’d congregated beneath the overhanging roof of a large music shop. ‘What did you mean when you said, this is the issue nowadays?’

‘The issue? I meant the new lot who’re now showing up on the streets. They’re so young – and they’re so full of attitude. They don’t get it.’

‘How you help each other out?’

‘Yeah – we play by certain rules. Not stealing someone’s spot, for a start. They’re young, though. Teenagers, some of them.

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.