by Matt Troy
There was only so much of this I could take. Shifting my position, I leaned forwards and nodded towards the quacking birds. "I know a joke about ducks," I announced.
Beside me Callum stirred and I glanced over to see him watching me with that look of faint amusement again. "And I can just imagine what sort of joke it is," he replied. "Go on then."
Chapter 3
I grinned and launched into the tale of the man with three ducks. Analysing this stuff could come later when I was with my friends. For now, all I wanted to do was relax.
Rather than have a repeat performance of breakfast, I accepted Callum's suggestion of grabbing lunch at a nearby pizzeria. The guy had yet to snap back into his pissy persona of earlier and that was fine with me. Instead of bickering we had an involved discussion on music which somehow managed to lead into a much more general discussion on anything and everything. It was kind of refreshing to just be able to burble on about anything under the sun, and even though Callum wasn't exactly contributing much to the conversation, he never gave me the impression that I should shut up. My friends had a habit of doing that; everything ultimately came down to a competition to be the centre of attention a friendly one, but a competition none the less. And I am not only competitive but also a very bad loser … not that that happens very often. I mean, it would be like being wrong or something and just how likely is that?
While on the subject of being wrong, I was really starting to wonder if reading a few more chapters of the book would have made the current situation make sense. Trashy, throwaway novel status aside, things weren't as I expected them to be. Or, if you really want to get specific, Callum wasn't as I expected him to be. Okay, so the guy initially came across as arsier than the spawn of Satan, but (and I can't believe how clichéd I'm going to sound here) that was just a first impression. And apparently one designed to put people off having anything further to do with him.
Even now I still wasn't sure just how I managed to break the bastard barrier he'd erected, but for some reason he'd decided to relax a little bit around me. In between periodically acting like he was trying to hit on me … obviously some devious means of keeping me off-guard, but I'm rambling again. Forget the whole seduction routine that he was/was not trying out on me the jury's still out on what he's up to. But anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that he simply wasn't acting like the delinquent younger brother who was going to murder his brother. And not only was he proving remarkably controlled in keeping those homicidal impulses in check, but I'd yet to see any general bad-boy behaviour. And don't think that I was going to be fooled by his penchant for wearing black, leather and scuffed boots, my friends and I didn't exactly dress that differently.
I thought back to that initial evening, when we'd simply been reading from the book and generally pissing about. Kate had stated that Callum was just misunderstood and we'd all laughed it off as yet an another awful cliché in an equally awful book. But this wasn't just some awful book anymore. For some reason beyond my understanding, the events were now occurring in real life. Did being a cliché make something less likely to happen in reality? Because, frankly, as far as I could see it was going to take something pretty fucking drastic to get Callum to commit murder. And I seriously doubted William being capable of pissing the guy off that much; he was too self-contained.
Having drifted into silence as I considered my thoughts, I didn't notice Callum trying to get my attention until the guy flicked a piece of pepperoni onto my nose where it hung like an over-sized zit. That smirk immediately made a re-appearance on Callum's face and I glared and removed it with as much dignity as the situation allowed. Which wasn't much. Wiping the sauce from my nose with a paper napkin I directed a long-suffering sigh in Callum's direction. "Was there a reason for that or are you just jealous of my flawless complexion?"
Callum relaxed into his seat, draping an arm over the back of the chair as he continued to watch me in amusement. "I just said Ree's bands are performing tonight and they're pretty good."
"Ree's in a band? She kept that quiet," I remarked.
Callum fixed me with a measuring stare. "Well considering the two of you were only in each other's company for about an hour, it's not that hard to understand. Plus Ree's modest; she was probably a little embarrassed to tell you."
I shrugged, not quite understanding the concept of modesty, but willing to accept it as a reasonable excuse. "Fair enough, I guess. So what's she play in the band? Or does she sing?"
"Bass guitar. She can actually sing, but I think she'd die of nerves before performing in front of a crowd." Callum shrugged. "Still, their lead singer is very good. Plus they don't really conform to one genre; their music is a bit of everything."
I grinned. "Sounds good and if it'll get me out of dinner at the house then I'm definitely in. I'd only end up committing some social faux pas at the table and be mocked mercilessly by my friends."
Callum nodded slightly. "Well if that's how you feel, we can grab something beforehand. Though I do have to wonder what you're implying about my table manners."
I grinned. "Getting worried about what kind of impression you're making on me?"
The dark-haired boy snorted and rose to his feet, throwing some bills on the table. He crossed over to my side of the table and leant in close to me. I blinked and tried not to look as surprised as I felt. His eyes were so near to mine that I could pick out faint traces of what could be deep green in the irises, then again, that could just be from the reflection of my own eyes. Callum slowly and deliberately raised his hand to my face, skimming it over my cheek barely brushing the skin, before running them across my nose. Then he straightened and licked his fingers. "You had sauce there," he informed me before winking. "And I think I know exactly what impression I'm making."
I wasn't even aware of acting on a conscious level; everything about my response was automatic. I raised an eyebrow and smirked back. "So you find me delicious?" I purred before my brain kicked in and informed me that I wasn't being hit on and that was not an appropriate reaction. Callum looked completely taken aback by my statement and I hastily tried to correct my little slip. "…Or the sauce. Obviously. As you just had some… and it is really good sauce. Nice amount of herbs, not like what you get on those pizzas you buy at home or anything…" He was still looking at me with that bizarre expression and I sighed heavily, allowing my head to droop down onto my chest for a moment. Making a sincere effort to calm down and erase the past few moments from my memory, I looked back up and smiled brightly. "Know anywhere around here that sells poi?"
Callum was indeed able to take me to a shop where I could buy some poi – make of that what you will. He didn't seem the type for circus skills, but I wasn't complaining. The place had a really good selection, at a fraction of the price I usually had to pay. After a long internal debate, I passed over the flaming set. As cool as it looked, I had no doubt I would eventually set fire to myself. Callum looked on in quiet amusement as I explained the basics to him on our way to the park and a sufficiently open area that would allow me to swing the bloody things without braining everyone in my vicinity.
I hadn't been learning how to do this very long at all; it was all prompted by a drunken beach gathering down in Brighton. Unlike everyone else who tried to have a go, I was at least able to do some basic tricks and spins and took this as encouragement to practise whenever I could. Seriously, I found it very good for stress relief there was something calming about the rhythmic pull on my hands and the whispering as the poi streaked through the air with their tails streaming behind them. I did a couple of weaves and then, when Callum looked distinctly impressed, ventured a couple of angel wings behind my back.
"You look like a ninja in a kung-fu film," Callum informed me from his position safely away from the flying poi. "I keep expecting to see spikes shoot out those little balls or something."
Grinning, I swung one back over my head and slowed to a stop. "You should see the flaming ones. It looks amazing, but I've never had the
guts to try. Carly's the expert in our group and even she sets fire to herself."
Callum winced. "And neatly you've managed to dissuade me from ever wanting to try it myself."
I laughed and offered him the set. "Aw, come on. It's not that hard. All you do is swing them in circles. You can do all the cross-overs and behind the back stuff later." He still looked far from convinced and I tried to think of something that would persuade him. "It's really relaxing, great stress relief." Sighing I stepped back and began to swing them again. "It's really easy; look!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a braided blonde head that could only be Carly. Moments later Keiran also entered my field of vision, though neither seemed to have noticed me or Callum. It could only mean that William and Naomi were around and as I scanned the park for the couple, I briefly lost my concentration on the poi and was rewarded with one smacking directly into my forehead. "Ow!"
Callum was in front of me, shaking his head and gently brushing my hair off my face to better see the injury site. "Really easy, huh?" he remarked. "You don't seem to have a bump though."
I smiled at his concern and made a dismissive gesture. "Nah, my head's made of pretty solid stuff. It'll take a lot more than that to cause a noticeable injury."
Callum's mouth quirked in what could have been the initial stages of a smile, but the sound of my name being called from somewhere over his shoulder made his features freeze. Dropping his hand, he let my hair fall back into place as he stepped away from me and turned to face Naomi and William who were approaching.
"Blake! Are you okay? That looked painful," Naomi was saying, her features and manner just radiating concern.
I tried to fight the blush that was no doubt showing on my face. "I'm fine, really." Except for completely ashamed that so many people managed to witness me twatting myself with the bloody poi, but there wasn't much I could do about that.
William looked equally sympathetic from his position beside Naomi. "You're sure?" His eyes flickered to the side and he seemed to notice Callum standing silently beside me for the first time. "Callum, what are you doing here?"
Callum rolled his eyes. "What? Am I not allowed to go out to the park now?"
William frowned as Carly and Keiran approached, neither of the pair looking happy for some reason. "You know that's not what I meant, Callum," he said gently. "I just don't normally see you out here."
Callum shrugged, fully back into his earlier moody persona. "I can try new things if I want to, it's not like I need your permission first or anything."
Naomi looked distressed by the obvious tension between the brothers and cleared her throat. William immediately turned to her with an apologetic expression, but Callum simply glared at the floor – refusing to look at his brother's fiancée. Pausing for a moment to look at Callum with another one of her sympathetic expressions, Naomi had to make a visible effort to transfer her gaze to me. "Blake, it's good that we ran into you. We were wondering if you were going to join us for dinner tonight."
I smiled and shook my head. "I'm very sorry," I said as politely as I could. "But I've already made plans to eat out."
"Sure you can't just cancel?" Carly asked. "The rest of us would really like the chance to talk to you and we haven't seen you all day."
I shrugged at Carly, keeping up the apologetic act, though I was really wondering what the hell was going on and why they were so desperate to see me all of a sudden. "Sorry, no can do. But you have my phone number so it's not like you can't get in contact with me should you need to."
Keiran rolled his eyes. "Blake, for that to work, you would have to turn the thing on. We've been trying to ring you on and off for most of the morning."
I laughed sheepishly. "Oh. Oops. It must have slipped my mind." Keiran and Carly still didn't look too happy, so I tried to think of some way to cheer them up. "Look, how about I meet up with you guys later in the evening? You can all swing by my room when I get in and we can catch up then."
Keiran nodded. "Fine. About what time are you expecting to get back?"
I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Hey, Callum, when do you think the gig will finish?"
Callum didn't even look up from the ground as he mumbled "eleven."
Turning back to the group, Carly looked more pissed than ever. I guess she'd have liked to have gone to see a band too, but couldn't get out of the boring Norrington dinner. I grinned at her and winked. "Well, there you have. Shall we say half past?"
Keiran shrugged and began to tug Carly away. "Whatever. We'll speak to you then. Take care."
The others left with him and soon enough it was just me and Callum again. I turned to him and ran a hand through my hair. "Sorry about Carly and Keiran, they're normally much nicer. Carly in particular seems to be in a really bad mood today. I guess I pissed her off somehow."
Callum gave me a very strange look before shaking his head with a sigh. "You could just go and hang out with your friends and sort everything out."
I scoffed and began to gather up the poi. "No way. It's not my fault if they're jealous that I have a much better evening planned than them. They shouldn't be such suck-ups. Besides," I added with a grin. "How am I supposed to persuade you to have a go with these if I'm spending time with them? Carly can be really intimidating when it comes to poi."
Callum raised his hands in a warding off gesture. "There is no way I'm trying that."
I pouted, but conceded defeat. "Fine. What about a game of pool then?"
"Now there's an idea."
THE END
(FREE BOOK)
THRILLER
KILL OR BE KILLED
The Erotic Flashback.
He was certainly a mercenary, he had this particular swagger, this incredible poise, even when crossing the river banks or hacking through jungles sweating out his guts.
Captain ‘Killer’ Kelly had followed him for six miles through the night. Across the river bank, through a section of the Singha Raja Forest; now he was resting, getting his breath in short, gasping snorts preparatory to traverse the home stretch.
Home of Praba, the Satan of war, the vicious terrorist whose religion was taking lives, the shedding of blood, the stirring of maniacal passion in men who would be far better off home screwing their wives, tilling their fields drinking their Palmyra palm toddy, loving their children.
The mercenaries were the left hand of this fanatic who loved war above everything and who lived in ultimate comfort and protection and seclusion among his fellow fanatics deep in the jungle.
It was captain ‘killer’ Kelly’s job to bring the man out from his jungle lair. To topple the mad men. To eliminate the rebel group, to educate the mad-man’s followers or kill them, to bring peace once again to Elephant pass and peace to the northern province.
Captain Kelly’s job for the moment was to topple Selva a petty chief and the eastern province war lord.
As a highly trained commando his mission was to penetrate deep into the jungle where the terrorist were taking refuge and also terrorizing the innocent indigenous people living there. His job as a sniper was to bring the leader of a small group of terrorists from his jungle lair.
To eliminate this despot. His superiors threw the challenge on their faces and as none was prepared to volunteer, captain Kelly, like the ass hole he was volunteered least expecting that the mission would be a one man show. If he had known what he learned, he probably wouldn’t have spoken too soon, but now it was too late. He knew he had a great deal more to learn, all of it bad, he was to live off the land alone and confront a small group of terrorists armed to the teeth. What he didn’t know was how many were there in this particular group. He was dropped off at the edge of the jungle and from there he was on my own.
In his camouflage kit he increased his pace, sweating like a eunuch with an erection trying to find cover quick. He checked his weaponry. He had his AK47 hanging lose by its strap around his neck along with a long barreled sniping rifle with a silencer fixed, there were a couple of grenades,
there was a Rambo knife strapped on the inner side of his left thigh almost touching his testicles a long machete on his hip and a somewhat primitive weapon, a small but sophisticated cross bow and arrows. In short he was a walking arsenal.
With stealth he penetrated the jungle and stood near a trail, behind some low grown trees, keeping an eye out for his unseen foes. He saw a shadow of a moment and stood dead still and saw a terrorist, he was so sure of himself he did not bother about stealth, he acted as if it was his domain. Kelly let him pass him and trailed him about one hundred yards behind. He was making his way towards a small mud thatched house of one of the indigenous people.
There was a feminine scream that rent the quite jungle night, it told him one thing, and only one, and the indigenous old man had a daughter. The terrorist knew about her. He had stopped for fun and frolic, and she was not interested. The terrorists advances had failed to charm the lass.
Kelly gripped the crossbow tight and dashed noiselessly towards the house; He armed the crossbow with an arrow. Time was important, but silence was vital. There was a whole group of terrorist lurking in the area. One shot and the sound would bring the whole damned lot on his trail. Screams, especially feminine ones, did not send them crashing out of their jungle hideout. Feminine screams had been rather commonplace in this vicinity.
They would never become commonplace with him. His batman had told him once, “Sir, you will never fall prey to the real enemy. You will get yours, sir, on the trail of a woman’s skirt.” The women he played around with, he visualized one woman with whom he had spent a week back. Kelly had met her at the officers mess, after a few rounds of drinks the lady had invited him to her home, which he accepted gladly. She was the wife of another officer who was engaged in the combat area. Since the reason for the invitation was quite obvious no sooner than Kelly reached the lady’s home, her name being Judy. Kelly pulled Judy to him and undid the band at her waist slipped her dress over her shoulders and let it slip to the floor. She gasped and bent down. Kelly thought she was going to retrieve her dress instead; she was fumbling with his pant.
