In the Bag

by Jim Carrington

  BANG! BANG!

  Two more shots. Two more misses. They definitely sound much further away now. Maybe they’re giving up. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve done it. But still I don’t look round. I just keep pumping my legs and my arms.

  After a couple more minutes, I sense that I’m alone. I don’t know what it is. The silence, maybe. The stillness of the forest. Whatever it is, I’m sure they’ve stopped following. So I turn my head to look. There’s no sign of the two guys from the BMW. I can’t see them anywhere. I slow right down and then stop. I turn and look the way I’ve just come from. All I can see is trees and undergrowth. No other humans. No movement. I stand and listen and I can’t hear anything. Just my own blood pumping around my body, the sound of me trying to catch my own breath and some birds in the trees.

  And I wonder if they’re out there right now, hiding, watching, aiming their gun at me. I shudder. I feel exposed here. I move over to the left and hide behind a tree, wait till I get my breath back.

  Ash

  I just ran for my life. And I kept running till I was sure that I wasn’t being followed. I have no idea where the others are. One second I was running with Rabbit, the next I was on my own. I never even saw Joe. I got out of the car and just made a run for it. I didn’t even stop to let him out of the back of the car. Fuck. I hope he got out.

  And now I’m here, crouching down behind a tree, catching my breath, wondering what the fuck I do next, praying that the others are safe. Cos when I was running I heard shots. I didn’t stop to see what was happening. I just kept running, trying to get as far away from there as I could. I seriously hope they didn’t hit Rabbit or Joe.

  I close my eyes for a second and try and compose myself. There’s so much fucking adrenalin running through my body. I’m jumpy as hell. And I feel paranoid, like the blokes from the BMW could be anywhere right now. They could be right on me and I wouldn’t know.

  I need to get out of the woods. And I need to find out what happened to Joe and Rabbit. I need to know they’re all right. I mean, I didn’t hear any screams or anything. And I would have done if they’d been hit, right? But maybe you don’t scream if you get hit by a bullet. Maybe you just fall over. And die. And that’s it. The end.

  I get my phone out of my pocket and write a text: R u safe? Where r u? I send it to Joe and Rabbit. And as soon as I’ve sent it, I realise that I could’ve just made a big mistake. What if they’re hiding? What if the two blokes from the BMW hear Joe and Rabbit’s phones beep and find them?

  I put my phone on silent straight away and I sit and wait for a reply. I look at the time on my phone. 20:01. And I make a promise to myself: if I don’t get a message by 20:05, I’m gonna try and get out of the woods on my own. And I’m gonna call the police.

  The time ticks by slowly. All around me, up in the trees, I can hear the birds calling. Innocently flitting about, roosting, getting ready for bed. I look at the time again. 20:03. I stare at my phone, willing a message to come through, to bring me news that Joe and Rabbit are both OK. But nothing happens. The seconds continue to tick slowly past. And I start to get really scared. 20:04. It’s been three minutes. Why haven’t they replied? They must have been caught. Or worse . . .

  I look out from behind the tree. The light’s starting to dim. It’ll be dark soon. I strain to hear anything, see anything. But it feels like I’m all alone. No one else is here. I get the urge to break the silence and solitude – to shout, to scream. I even open my mouth. But I don’t make a sound. I’m not stupid. I’m not suicidal.

  I look at my watch. Ten seconds to go before I make the call. Where the fuck are they? And then my phone vibrates in my hand. It gives me a shock. I look at it and hurriedly open the message. It’s from Joe. I’m OK. They shot at me & missed. Think I’m near the Old House. Meet u there. U seen Rabbit?

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Joe’s safe. I’d convinced myself he was lying in a pool of blood somewhere. And it would have been my fault. Right away my phone goes again. A message from Rabbit. I’m safe. Where shall I meet u? U with Joe?

  I smile to myself. But in a second the smile is gone. I send messages back to Joe and Rabbit, let them know we’re all safe and tell them we’ll meet in the Old House.

  I get to my feet and look around me once more. And then I start walking in the direction of the Old House, using the trees as cover. With every step, I look all around me, my ears tuned in to even the slightest of noises. If I hear anything, if I see anything, I’ll be down on the floor in a split second. I have to be careful.

  Joe

  I’m going in the direction of the Old House when I hear something. I freeze then hide behind a tree. I’m sure it was a voice. I stare all around me, trying to find what made the noise, but all I can see is trees. Nothing moving. Nothing human. Everything is still.

  But then I hear it again. And this time I’m sure – it’s two voices. They’ve got London accents. I stay absolutely still. I even hold my breath. They’re not far away. I can’t quite make out what they’re saying, but their voices are loud enough for me to know they’re close and getting closer.

  I keep staring out from my hiding place, and then I see the two guys from the BMW come out from behind a tree, walking in my direction. Heading straight for where I’m standing. I start to panic. They haven’t seen me, but if they keep walking this way they’re gonna be where I’m hiding in about twenty seconds. They’ll find me and kill me.

  I need to think straight. I need to do something. I have to save myself.

  The two guys keep walking. They’re not talking any more. One of them has a branch in his hand. As he walks, he’s using it to beat the undergrowth out of the way. And every time he rips the bushes apart with a swipe, I imagine what he could do to me. He’d rip me apart in seconds.

  I have to make a decision right now. I have to do something before it’s too late. They’re heading right for me. They’re so close I can smell their horrible aftershave. They’ll be here in five seconds.

  I take a breath. I make my decision.

  I stay absolutely still and wait, watch every heavy step that they take. As they get closer, I see that they’re gonna pass by a couple of metres to the left of the tree I’m hiding behind. I wait and watch, wait and watch as they step closer, closer, closer. And when they’re level, I lift my right leg and move around the tree to the right, trying to stay out of their sight.

  Crack.

  I step on a twig and it breaks.

  And their footsteps stop.

  ‘What was that?’ one of them says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I just heard something move.’

  I stay motionless. I can’t see them from where I am, and they can’t see me. If I don’t make another noise, maybe they’ll just assume it was a bird or something and keep on walking.

  I hear the great thumping footsteps again, coming my way. And inside my jeans pocket my phone starts to vibrate. My God. I feel like I’m having a heart attack here. The footsteps get closer and closer. And I know what I have to do. I turn and start running as fast as I can, away from the tree, away from the two guys.

  Ash

  I keep low, moving from tree to tree. My eyes and ears are on stalks, looking and listening for any movement or sound. I don’t want to walk into a trap. The guys from the BMW are bound to be here somewhere, looking for us. And if they are, I have to see them before they see me.

  But as I make my stop-start way through the woods, it’s almost completely silent. The only movement is the breeze through the trees, making the branches rustle.

  Even though I’m stopping behind trees with every three or four steps, taking time to listen, I manage to get through the woods quite quickly. And before too long, I know for sure where I am. Up ahead there’s a track. And over on the other side, hidden a little way back, is the Old House. The gun is near too, buried in the soil. I stop behind a tree for a second and think. But it doesn’t take me long to make up my mind. I want the gun. Just in case. I’d be s
tupid not to get it.

  I creep through the trees and the undergrowth as carefully as I can. Across the track. On the other side of the track, I take a couple of seconds to get my bearings and then start walking in the direction of where the gun is hidden. I scan the ground, looking out for where we buried it. And then I see the tree, the one with my tag on it. And a few metres away, a patch of soil that looks different from the rest. This is it. This is where the gun is. I drop to my hands and knees and start digging.

  A couple of minutes later, with the gun in my pocket, I creep through the trees and the undergrowth, my eyes fixed on the Old House up ahead. When I’m no more than ten metres away, I stop still. I watch and listen for about thirty seconds, making sure no one’s here already, my hand on the gun as a precaution. I look over at the door, at the bit of boarding. There’s no sign of anyone about. Though I guess they’d hardly be making it that obvious if they were here, would they?

  I creep through the undergrowth, bent double. I wonder whether I should call something out before I try and go in, but I decide not to. I carefully pull the boarding away from the doorway. I don’t go inside right away, though. I look at the dingy interior of the Old House till my eyes adjust and I’m sure that no one else is here. When I’m sure it’s safe, I slip inside and carefully close the boarded-up door behind me.

  I walk through to the room on the left, straight over to the chair, and sit down, take my fags out of my pocket. I light one and take a drag. It’s only now, now that I’m sitting down, that I realise how nervous and jumpy I am. I take drag after drag after drag from my cigarette. And as soon as I’ve taken my last drag and stubbed the fag out, I think about lighting another. But I don’t. Instead, I get up from the chair and go over to the boarded-up window. I peek through a small crack in it. There’s no sign of anyone else. It’s nearly dark out there now.

  As I look out at the darkening forest, I sigh and think about what we’re gonna do next. Cos whatever we do is wrong. Call the police and we’ll be in massive trouble for what we’ve done. Don’t call them and we’ve got two psychos who’ve already killed someone looking for us. Two psychos who know who we are. I look down at my phone. I write a text to Joe and Rabbit. Where r u?

  As I send the message, I hear a noise and look out of the cracks in the window. It’s Rabbit. He pulls the board away from the doorway and then a few seconds later he comes through.

  ‘What the fuck!’ he says as he sits down on a wooden box. ‘What the fuck is happening?’

  I shrug and shake my head.

  ‘Those guys had a gun!’ he says. ‘They were shooting. I thought I was gonna die.’

  Neither of us says anything for a bit. Rabbit takes out his phone, probably checking the message I just sent him.

  ‘You know where Joe is?’ Rabbit says.

  I shake my head. ‘No. He said they shot at him, but he’s safe. Haven’t heard from him since.’

  Rabbit doesn’t say anything for a while. He sighs, rubs his eyes, gets up and goes over to the window and then sits back down again. He’s twitchy. Like I feel. He rubs his chin, thinking. ‘What d’you think we should do?’

  I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think we should call the police,’ Rabbit says. He stands up again.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘We call the police and we’re in trouble. We took the bag. We kept it. We spent the money. Sold the drugs. We handled the gun – a murder weapon. And we tried to hide it. I’ve got it in my pocket right now. They’re not exactly just going to slap us on the wrists and let us go, are they? We could go to prison.’

  ‘You dug up the gun?’ Rabbit gets up. He kicks at the chair he’s been sitting on. ‘Argghh!’ he shouts, frustrated. ‘How the fuck did I end up in this situation?’

  ‘Shh,’ I say.

  Rabbit leans in really close to my face. His face is full of fear and anger. ‘You know what’ll happen if we don’t call the cops?’ he whispers. ‘We’ll get killed. Those guys know where I live, for fuck’s sake!’

  I put my head in my hands. He’s right.

  Joe

  Behind me I hear the two guys shout to each other, but I can’t work out what they’re saying. All I can concentrate on is getting as far away from them as I can. I keep my legs and arms pumping, literally willing myself forward.

  BANG!

  A gunshot. It makes me jump, but it misses me. I keep running, thinking about whether I should hide behind a tree or just keep going. If I try and hide, they’ll find me sooner or later. I need to keep going. So I keep running. I have no idea where I am any more. I’m completely disorientated. But that’s not important right now. Survival is the only thing I care about.

  BANG!

  My leg buckles underneath me. I fall to the ground. I’m hit. It feels like my foot has just exploded. I close my eyes and scream in pain. My hands automatically go down to my foot. It’s warm and wet. I take my hands away and open my eyes, look at my hands. They’re covered in blood. My blood. I shut my eyes and groan.

  When I open them again, the world feels like it’s swimming in front of me, like someone’s got a big spoon and stirred up all the colours and sounds. I feel sick. I hear footsteps approach, but I can’t tell where from. And then I see four legs standing in front of me. I look up. It’s the two guys. They stand over me, angry. And I notice that the bald one has a gun in his hand, pointed at the ground. I stare at it, waiting for him to lift it and put me out of my misery. And as I do, tears start to form in my eyes and fall down my face.

  ‘Not so fucking smart now, huh?’ the bald guy says.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to do anything to provoke him. As I look at him, I notice a wound on the top of his head, a straight line going across that’s dark red, like it’s just starting to heal.

  ‘Where’s the rest of my fucking money and my skunk?’ he says.

  I shrug my shoulders. I open my mouth to reply, but the words just stick in my throat. In my pocket, I feel my phone start to vibrate again.

  ‘Where’s your friends, kid?’ the taller guy says.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. It comes out shaky, full of tears.

  ‘Course you do,’ the shorter guy – the one with the gun – says. ‘And if you want to live, you’re gonna tell me where they are and where my money is, understand?’

  I nod my head. In my pocket my mobile stops vibrating. There’s a surge of pain in my foot. I wince and scream. I’m gonna bleed to death like this. My jeans are covered in blood. My trainer is saturated.

  ‘Let’s get him up,’ the short guy says.

  The taller guy bends down and picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and carries me back through the trees to the path, to Rabbit’s car. They open the passenger door, pull the front seat forward and throw me in the back.

  Ash

  I take my phone out of my pocket. ‘Joe still hasn’t answered my bloody text,’ I say.

  Rabbit makes a noise, like he’s sucking his lip. ‘Why not?’

  I make a face at Rabbit. ‘How am I s’posed to know? What d’you think I am? Psychic?’

  Rabbit tuts, but he doesn’t say anything. He goes over to the window and peers out through the cracks. Then he takes his mobile out of his pocket. He looks at it and shakes his head.

  ‘Come on, Joe . . .’ I mutter under my breath. ‘Come on.’

  Rabbit walks back towards me. It’s almost pitch black in here now, but I can guess what his expression is. Worried and scared, like mine. Why won’t Joe just let us know he’s OK? I mean, it could be something as simple as his battery died, cos he’s crap for that. Nearly as bad as me. Always forgets to charge his phone. And he’s always saying he can’t get a signal.

  Rabbit looks at his phone. ‘I think we should phone the cops,’ he says. ‘Joe might be in danger.’

  I stare back at him.

  ‘Forget about getting in trouble for the money and the gun and whatever. Joe could be in danger right now and there’s fuck all we can do to help him. We need the
police.’

  I sigh. I’m scared. I’m fucked. I’m going to prison. And Joe needs us. ‘Give it another minute,’ I say. ‘He’ll probably come in through that door any second.’

  Rabbit sighs and starts pacing around the room.

  I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands and try and think. Only I can’t think straight – there’s too much going on in my head. Around me, I can hear Rabbit pacing, I can feel the air moving as he walks around the room, sighing and kicking at the floor, frustrated and angry and scared. And I still can’t work out what it is I’m trying to think.

  Rabbit stops pacing. ‘Fuck it,’ he says. ‘I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna phone the cops.’

  I sit up and look at him. I want to tell him not to, that he’ll land us all in the shit. But I can’t. So I just sit there and watch as he taps 999 into his phone and then looks back at me. He presses Dial and holds the phone to his ear.

  As he’s waiting for an answer, my phone starts vibrating. I take it out of my pocket and look at the display. It’s Joe.

  I wave my hand at Rabbit and point to my phone. ‘Rabbit!’ I shout. ‘Hang up! It’s Joe!’

  Rabbit stares back at me, the look of shock on his face lit up by his phone’s display. He presses Cancel on his phone and slowly lowers his arm.

  I press Answer and hold my phone to my ear. ‘Joe! Where are you, man? Why didn’t you answer my text?’

  There’s no answer at the other end, just background noise.

  ‘Joe?’

  ‘Hello?’ It’s not Joe’s voice. It’s gruffer, deeper. It’s the voice I spoke to the other day, the one that I told where to look for the bag. They must have found Joe’s phone. Shit.