20

It was almost completely dark when Timmy, Wally, and Sarpele scurried from the tenement to the wonky block of flats. They were made from some sort of yellow brick that had not held up well to the test of time and weather. The bricks were crumbling and the mortar was badly cracking in places. There was a rusted iron fence that led into the square of the building. A miserable lookout stood huddled by the gate under a battered umbrella.

“Wot?” he said suddenly.

“We’re here to buy,” Sarpele replied.

“Really? Well go on then.” The lookout opened the gate and hurried them through.

They walked into the ground floor of the tower block where another spotter sat looking as listless as a creature could.

“You here to buy?” she asked, spitting a thick wad of yellowy phlegm on the floor.

“Yes,” Sarpele said.

“How much?”

“A quarter.”

The spotter’s eyes lit up with greed and then she frowned.

“I ain’t got that much down here.”

“We can wait,” Sarpele said, leaning on his stick and breathing heavily.

The spotter raised an eyebrow with a hoop piercing in it.

“Naa, I ain’t going all the way up there. You can go. Go on, twelfth floor. Piss off!”

Sarpele looked at the stairs and then sighed. Timmy and Wally took him under each armand began helping him up the stairs.

“Hold on!” the girl snapped and they froze.

“Show me yer gold.”

“What?” Sarpele said.

“Show me yer gold old man. I ain’t sending you up there if you ain’t got the gold.”

Sarpele nodded and then fished around deep inside his cloak. After a few moments of searching, he withdrew an ancient pouch tied with a drawstrings. With shaky hands, he pulled open the bag and upended it into his palm. Three shining gold coins and a medley of dirty pennies and coins tumbled into his cupped hand. The girl peered into his, clearly not wanting to get close to the dirty old man, and then nodded.

“Go on then. Try not to break yore hip or anything on the way up.”

“Thank you kindly, dear.”

Wally and Timmy held him under his armpits and slowly they made their way up the stairs. They passed a few more spotters but were quickly waved on up the stairs. The building should have been condemned years ago. Dust fell from the staircase as they ascended and there were so many ominous creaks and cracks that Timmy was sure at some point they would just fall straight through one of the steps. Halfway up they were panting and sweating badly. Whoever had designed the tower block had made the stairs far too steep and irregular. They pushed on, afraid to even whisper to each other lest a hidden spotter overhear them. After almost twenty minutes of climbing, with a rest break in between, they arrived at the twelfth floor. There was more activity up here. A few rail thin kids were hanging out and smoking on the landing, playing some sort of game which involved chucking stones at the brickwork to see who could take the biggest chunk of. They saw the three junkies and sent them down the hall.

Timmy was panting and sweating profusely when they arrived at the flat. Sarpele nodded at Timmy to knock. He raised his fist and as went to knock the door opened and a nearly naked, long haired man in just a pair of shorts opened the door. His eyes were gleaming red and almost shut. He had a scruffy beard and an ugly tattoo covering half of his torso.

“Who the fuck are you?” he croaked, unsteady on his feet.

“We’ve come to buy,” Sarpele said breathlessly.

“Fuck. Did you climb all them stairs?”

“Yes we did,” Wally said tetchily. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I think the old fella is gonna collapse if we don’t get ‘im sat down so ‘e can catch ‘is breath.”

“Who is it?” A gruffer voice barked from within the flat.

“Some old junkie,” the man shouted back.

“They buying?”

“You buying?” he asked them.

“Obviously!” Wally snapped.

“Yeah.”

“Let ‘em in!”

The man stood to one side and eyed Wally suspiciously as they passed. Inside, the flat was hazy and dim. All the curtains were drawn shut and only a few candles lit the space. The room was stiflingly hot and the thick smog didn’t help. Inside were four men and a woman. They all looked about Wally’s age. Two of them were almost as naked as the man who answered the door. One of them had dirty lank hair and looked like he hadn’t washed this month. The other was pale and baldheaded with a number of piercings all over his face. The woman was less naked, but only just. One side of her pink hair was completely shaven and she wore a thick rope of gold around her neck. She was lounging on a filthy sofa, her legs intertwined with the biggest man in the room. He had darker skin than the others, a shaved head, and a tattoo that covered half his face and head. He had a oneshot resting on his lap, and he wore just a vest of body armour and his underwear.

“Why didn’t they serve you downstairs?” the bald man demanded.

“The girl said she didn’t have enough,” Sarpele wheezed, shaking where he stood as if just the act of staying upright was taxing him.

“How much do you want?” he barked.

“A quarter.”

Again Timmy saw a flash of greed in the man’s eyes.

“You got coin?”

“Yes sir.” Sarpele withdrew his bag again and it was snatched by the red eyed doorman.

He pulled open the pouch and poured the contents into his hand. He sifted through with one long digit, mouthing along as he counted. At one point he got confused, scratched his head, and started again.

“Give me that!” The bald headed man snapped at him.

He snatched up the coins and counted them quickly before giving them to the pale man with the piercings.

“Do ‘em up a quarter,” he said to him.

The pale man pulled an open block of Burn from under the sofa and began tearing small lumps off and placing them on a pair of scales. While he was doing this the red eyed man looked at them curiously, smoking on a pipe that gave off an acrid, bitter tasting smoke.

“I ain’t seen you before,” he said. “You seen these before Ty?”

“No,” Ty, the bald headed man on the sofa, growled.

“Where you from old timer?” the red eyed man asked.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“They got gold, who cares Nate,” the woman, stretching out on the sofa and lighting a smoke.

“I care, so mind yore fuckin’ business, Sooty.” Nate snapped at her before turning back to them. “Where you from?”

“Buxberry,” Sarpele said.

“That’s pretty far from here,” Nate said, taking another long hit on his pipe and coughing.

“Gimme some!” Sooty said, snatching the pipe from him.

“We walked a long ways,” Sarpele confirmed.

“No Burn out East?” Ty asked them.

“Nothing good,” Sarpele answered, keeping his eyes down.

“Don’t them two talk?” Sooty asked, blowing a thick cloud of smoke. “Wot are they like your kids or something?”

“No, no.” Sarpele gave a dry chuckle.

The pale man finished wrapping up their Burn and tossed it to Nate who looked at the thick package.

“That’s a lot of Burn,” he said. “Where did you bums get that much coin from?”

“We earned it,” Sarpele said, holding out his hand expectantly.

“Oh yeah, how did you do that?” Nate asked, still holding onto the Burn.

“Give ‘em their Burn and get rid of them,” Ty growled, growing bored with the conversation.

“Come on Ty, it’s been dead in here,” Nate said. “And I’m curious.”

“The boy works,” Sarpele said, waving a hand at Wally.

“Oh yeah? Wot do you do? And I wanna hear it from him!” Nate said, wagging a finger at Sarpele.

Timmy saw Wally shift uncomfortably, unconsciously pulling at his short vest.

“You know… just fings,” Wally muttered.

“Like wot?”

“Just whatever there is to do.”

“He sells his arse for it, don’t he!” Sooty cackled from the sofa.

Wally turned bright red as the others laughed.

“No I don’t!” he snarled before he could stop himself.

“Ooooh, ain’t often you meet a Burner with a backbone,” Nate said, but the smile was gone from his face.

Sarpele shot a warning look at Wally.

"Also, ain’t too often you meet a Burner with such clean arms.” Nate’s voice had dropped low and suspicious.

Now Ty was listening again. He leaned forward, the oneshot in his hand.

“I don’t cut,” Wally said, rubbing at his bare arms.

“No?” Nate replied. “Do you fatty?”

Timmy squeaked and shook his head.

“Coz I ain’t never seen a Burner with tits like that, not even the female ones.”

“Lock the door,” Ty growled.

“What? Why are you doing that?” Sarpele said. “We've paid our gold, just give us our Burn and we’ll be on our way.”

Nate crossed the room and slammed the heavy bolt across the door.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere you old git,” Nate said.

The pale man and the lank haired man both stood to one side of the room with heavy poles in their hands. Sooty scrambled to one side of the sofa, her legs curled under her, a look of eager anticipation on her face.

“Search them,” Ty growled.

Nate and the other two men walked across the room and tried to grab hold of Sarpele and Wally, but Wally moved first. He threw a wild fist at the pale man and caught him unaware. His fist grazed his eyebrow and ripped out one of his piercings.

“Shit!” the pale man cried, stumbling back and holding his bleeding eyebrow.

Nate swung at Sarpele, who ducked under his punch and cracked him across the knee with his cane. Ty roared and leapt into the fray. He raised his oneshot and pointed it directly at Sarpele's chest. Timmy saw the big man rising.

"Sarpele! Watch out!" In a moment of instinctual panic, Timmy leapt.

Ty squeezed the trigger as Sarpele turned to face him. The bolt flew at the same moment that Timmy crashed into Sarpele throwing them to ground as the bolt flew by and shattered the window behind them. Ty snarled, tossing the oneshot to the side, and ran at Timmy, wrapping his meaty hand around his throat and slamming him into the wall. Timmy gasped, his eyes bulging as the bigg man's grip squeezed his throat like a vice. He punched and kicked uselessly at Ty, but the man was an unflinching wall of muscle, determined to pop Timmy's head off like a cork in a champagne bottle.

Sarpele pulled himself to his feet only to be punched in the stomach by Nate, who was hobbling on one leg. Sarpele took the blow and fired back one of his own at Nate’s throat. The tall man gargled and fell to the floor clutching his neck.

Wally wasn’t doing so well. He had ended up scrapping with the pale and long haired man. Their three emaciated bodies looked like matchsticks having a quarrel. The long haired man was laying about with his pipe, but fortunately for Wally, he could barely raise it, let alone bring it down with much force. The pale man, blood dripping down his face, was more ferocious. He clawed and punched and even bit Wally, who could do little more than cover his head with one from the pipe blows and fend off the pale man with his other.

Timmy croaked as he saw blackness curling into his vision from the edges. His face had turned purple, and he could hear his neckbone crunching under Ty’s iron grip. Then the hands went slack, and Timmy slumped to the ground, gasping for air. As his vision cleared, he looked up and saw Sarpele, cane in both hands, swinging relentlessly at Ty, beating the big man back. He landed another vicious blow across Ty's forehead, which staggered him back and split his brow open. With a screech, Sooty leapt from the sofa and fell upon Sarpele. She clawed and kicked him, and they both became tangled in his long cloak. Timmy lurched to his feet, coughing and spluttering. He tried to grab Sooty around the waist and pull her off, but it was like trying to handle a feral cat. She writhed and twisted and slashed at Sarpele with her nails. Finally, Sarpele wormed loose of his cloak and bodily through the wild young woman across the room. She hit the wall with a crunch.

That momentary distraction gave Wally an opening. The long haired man looked to see what had happened, and Wally kicked him squarely between the legs as hard as he could. With a silent gasp, the man dropped the pipe and crumpled to the filthy carpet. Wally grabbed the pipe and swung it at the pale man, hitting him across the jaw and slumping him. Wally raised the pole and hit him two more times just to be sure. Panting and bloody, the three coppers looked around at the only person still standing. Ty looked at them, then at his fallen comrades. He made a silent decision. He scooped up the remaining block of Burn and then sprinted towards the kitchen.

“Don’t let him escape!” Sarpele cried.

"Where's he gonna go?" Wally said. "We're like twelve floors up!"

Timmy and Sarpele took off after him. Ty jumped the table and then leapt through the window, smashing straight through it.

“He’s jumped out of the window!” Wally gasped. "He's killed hisself!"

Sarpele ran to the window and then saw that Ty had landed on a balcony of another flat in the opposite wonky tower.

“Come on! He’s getting away!” Sarpele shouted over his shoulder before leaping out of the broken window.

Timmy and Wally ran to the window and then stopped.

“I’m not jumping out of a window twelve floors up!” Wally said.

“We have to!” Timmy said. “We can’t leave Sarpele to chase him alone.”

“Shit!” Wally moaned.

“Come on, we’ll go together.”

“Alright.”

“On three. One. Two. Three!” Timmy ran at the window and jumped as hard as he could. Which wasn’t very hard at all. His bulk barely squeezed through the widow. For a second, he felt weightless… and then he felt altogether too heavy. He plummeted, missed the balcony, and landed on the one below, belly first on the railing.

“Timmy!” Wally cried from the apartment window. “You okay?”

Timmy gurgled and flopped onto the balcony. He wheezed and floudered around on the floor trying to get to his feet. He couldn’t find the words to shout back so he waved at Wally to carry on. Timmy stumbled to his feet, holding his guts, and lumbered into the abandoned flat. He heard feet running and Sarpele shouting from somewhere inside the tower block. Timmy galvanized himself and forced himself into a shambling run. He pulled open the door and heard heavy footsteps right above him going towards the stairs. Timmy spluttered and felt like throwing up as he ran to the stairs just as Ty came down. They smacked headlong into each other and tumbled down the flight of stairs. Ty was back on his feet in a flash, desperation and adrenaline pumping through his body.

“Stop! Police!” Timmy wheezed as Ty kicked him and took off running.

Sarpele was down the stairs in a flash. He leapt over Timmy, sparing only a brief glance back.

“Come on!” he yelled at Timmy as he pursued Ty.

Timmy groaned and followed after them, his vision blurring. Ty burst through a door and disappeared into a flat. Sarpele went in after him, and Timmy followed a few seconds later and skidded to a halt. There was a giant hole in the floor. Timmy looked down and saw it dropped to the next floor. With another beleaguered groan, Timmy dropped through the hole and landed on a soiled mattress placed underneath it. He rolled off the mattress, looked around, and saw Sarpele disappearing through a hole in the wall. What was going on? This place was like a rabbit’s warren. Timmy squeezed through the hole into the next flat, then through another one, and then dropped down another hole. It was completely dark on this floor, and he could no longer hear sounds of pursuit. Had he gotten lost? He stumbled in the darkness and saw another hole in a wall. He blindly flopped through it and realised too late there was no floor in the next room. He stared at the floor below, panicked, and tried to heave his bulk back through the way he had come. His feet slipped and he cartwheeled down. He hit the floor with a resounding thud, kicking up dust and dirt. A pathetic groan had barely escaped his lips when the floor gave way underneath him. His whole world exploded into damp, rotten beams of wood, plaster, bricks, and dust. He landed in a pile of debris and laid completely still, barely conscious.

“Ughhh,” Timmy groaned.

“Timmy!” Sarpele was standing there, covered in sweat and dust, hands on his knees as he sucked wind. “You got him!”

“Waahhh?”

Underneath Timmy, there was movement, and then he heard groans similar to the ones escaping his own mouth. Timmy flopped over and rolled down a pile of debris. He hefted himself to his knees, blinking owlishly as he saw a dark skinned hand flop from underneath the pile.

“Landed right on top of him!” Sarpele gave a short, bitter bark of laughter and then coughed. “Well done, lad! That’s your collar. You can read him his rights.”

Timmy looked at Sarpele; the whole room was wobbling.

“You have the right to remain…” Then he puked and collapsed face first in the debris. His world went mercifully still.