The Survival Game

by Stavro Yianni

  Alisha gave her head a brisk shake. ‘What are you on about?’

  John sat up in his bed. ‘She fucking shot me with a tranquiliser dart! I can’t put it any other way. I mean am I speaking Chinese or summink? She shot me up with some…skata!’

  ‘Stop swearing, John.’

  John held up his palms. ‘Okay. I’m sorry, babe. But I’m telling you the truth!’

  ‘Omar mentioned taking something out of John’s chest when he found him,’ Aziz interjected, making Alisha turn to face him. ‘He said it looked like a dart…’

  John pointed his hand in Aziz’s direction and smiled. ‘See?’

  Alisha looked back at John with suspicious eyes.

  ‘I mean how can I make something as crazy as that up?’ John asked.

  Alisha stared at him sideways. ‘Hmm. I’ve heard some doozies in the past…’

  ‘Yeah, but this ain’t one of ’em! She shot me up, and left me for dead. So yeah, the docs are right; there were drugs in my system. But I didn’t put ’em there!’ John crossed his arms over his chest. ‘She had this gun. She fired at me. Once she done that, I was out, and they came and mugged me like a bunch of scavengers. It was…’

  John looked past her at Aziz, who was staring at him with that bizarre jutted-out lower jaw and blood-red eyes. Those shadowy horns still sat proudly on his head as well. He blinked hard, then looked again. Yep, they’re still there…

  ‘It was a nightmare, Leesh, I’m telling you, babe. A fucking nightmare,’ he said softly. ‘They left me for dead,’ he added, and looked up at her with wide, sincere eyes.

  Alisha stared at him for a second longer before her eyes started flashing with rage. ‘Bastards!’ she snapped angrily, spittle flying out of her mouth and landing on John’s bedcovers.

  ‘I told Omar millions of times about that alleyway, Johnny,’ Aziz informed him. ‘It’s not safe. There are thieves, muggers, murderers all over that area. But he insists that John uses it.’

  ‘And look what’s happened to him!’ exclaimed Alisha. ‘I can’t believe they did that to you. Knocking you out so they can mug you, I mean that’s just plain sick.’

  ‘They sound like pros to me,’ Ahmed interjected. ‘I mean, tranquilliser darts, that goes way beyond butterfly knives, don’t it? This lot were sophisticated.’

  ‘Well they’re nothing more than wankers if you ask me,’ Alisha bluntly retorted.

  ‘Indeed,’ agreed Aziz before clearing his throat.

  ‘So apart from Annie Lennox, did you get a good look at any of the others?’ Alisha then asked.

  John sat further up in bed, his eyes widening with concern ’cos he knew what she was getting at with that question—astinomia. ‘No, no police, Leesh,’ he said, shaking his palms on the air ahead of him.

  ‘Why not? These bastards should pay for what they did. They can’t just get away with doing this to people. Look at the state of you.’

  ‘Yeah, but Alisha, it’s not a good idea to go to the police.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘The goods that John was delivering for me,’ Aziz interjected, making Alisha turn to face him once more, ‘had no duty paid on them. One of the reasons why I could supply them so cheap. And John was working cash in hand, if the Inland Revenue hear about that, they’ll prosecute. So, I’m afraid going to the police is completely out of the question, my dear…’

  John breathed an internal sigh of relief. Phew, well played, Aziz.

  Alisha glanced back at John. He nodded his head in agreement, and then shrugged. ‘We just have to accept it,’ he told her. He anxiously watched her for the next few seconds, watched as her mind ticked over behind her eyeballs, weighing up what Aziz just said against her own angle on things. For a dreadful prolonged second, he thought she was going to act like a dog with a bone, but then to his relief, she finally caved in.

  ‘I suppose,’ she said before she huffed and reluctantly nodded. She rolled her eyes at the same time, telling John that she still wasn’t one-hundred percent pleased with the situation. That look added to the feelings of guilt that were already brewing inside him. He hated lying to her more than anything in the world. It made him feel sick, like a piece of shit, but right then, he was left with no choice. He had to lie about what he’d been doing at Omar’s the last six months ’cos she wouldn’t understand. Besides, Aziz told him to lie, and as he’d already managed to get his stuff nicked, he didn’t wanna piss him off even more.

  He tried his best to shake off those nasty feelings of guilt ’cos he knew he wasn’t in the clear yet; there was still more work to do. He reached up, took Alisha’s hands, and rubbed them. And as he stared into her eyes, his love for her worked his stomach and diluted the guilt. Her deep brown eyes also did wonders for the pain in his head, helping to ease it. If things had gone differently the previous night, he might not have laid eyes on her ever again. He smiled at her, appreciating that fact. She half smiled back, her head cocked to the side. And just as she did, a sudden blaze of light emanated from the back of her head, shining all around it, making John squint like he’d just stared directly at the midday sun. He blinked his eyes rapidly again, and when he looked back at her, her whole head was surrounded by a lick of yellow that glowed like gold. It looked uncannily like she was wearing a…halo? He craned his neck forwards to get a better look. What the hell is that, gamota?

  ‘John?’ she asked, puzzled, a look of concern on her face. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

  John stared at her with bewilderment, open-mouthed. The halo on her head made her look beautiful. Like an angel sent straight from Heaven.

  He shook his head in response. ‘N-nothing,’ he stammered and shrugged, unable to tear his eyes from her halo as if it held him in a captivated trance.

  ‘You’re freaking me out, John,’ she told him.

  John smiled in return. ‘I’m sorry, babe. I’m just…’ He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, not wanting to look at that thing on her head. ‘Still messed up…’

  ‘Yeah? Well, just try and rest.’

  ‘Yeah, I will.’ But, unfortunately, there was no time to rest. Thankfully, she seemed to be all out of questions, and her earlier volcano eruption had subsided. On that score, it was all good. But the other two still needed sorting out. Aziz was gonna be pissed about his missing delivery, and John had to blag him. And blag him good.

  ‘Alisha…’ John said from behind his closed eyes.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Do you think you could just give us a minute alone?’ asked John. ‘We’ve got a few things to discuss about what happened to me.’

  Alisha’s facial expression switched from calm to suspicious. ‘Like what?’ she asked. ‘These guys are the ones who got you into this, John. If it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘If it wasn’t for them, we’d have no money,’ John countered.

  Alisha looked away in a sulk, and for a second, that halo on her head dimmed.

  ‘Just for a minute, babe,’ John told her, rubbing her hand again.

  After a second or two, Alisha huffed. ‘Do what you like,’ she said, grumpy. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She then got to her feet, her back arching heavily. Her face pinched as she turned around and faced those two at the back of the room. She gave them a final dirty look before heading for the door.

  Aziz went and opened it for her. She pushed on through and out of the room, taking a final look back at John. He stared at the golden halo on her head in awe. What the hell is it? he kept asking himself, but didn’t have a clue. A dream? A hallucination?

  She then left, taking it with her. Aziz let the door click shut, and he stood upright, facing John once more.

  An uncomfortable silence took over.

  John’s eyeballs darted from side-to-side for the following few seconds, working things out in his mind. He was about ninety-five percent sure they hadn’t come to kill him, ’cos that would be way too blatant, public place and all that. He didn’t think
Aziz would do that to him, anyway. They most probably wanted to know exactly what happened and work out how they were going to get the delivery back.

  He made sure not to lock eyes with Aziz ’cos he didn’t want to look at those horns on his head again; they were freaking him out. But curiosity got the better of him and he glanced up. There they were in all their glory, a pair of black horns sprouting from the top of his head. What were they? It was like God had turned the world into a giant film cell and superimposed them on his head. But as weird as that stuff was, it wasn’t his main worry right then. He needed to spend the next few minutes waffling, and to waffle well.

  ‘Are you okay, Johnny?’ asked Aziz in a neutral tone, breaking that silence.

  John responded with a positive nod of his head.

  ‘Good job on Alisha,’ Aziz said. ‘You can tell a lie, believe me.’

  ‘Yeah, well I’ve had a lot of practice,’ John replied, staring solemnly down at his bedclothes.

  He looked up to meet Aziz’s eyes. They were still blood-red and his jaw was still jutting out, and John suddenly realised what he was staring at. Aziz was a bloodhound. When it came to business and money this man was ruthless; a killer, a thirsty leech. And right then, he smelt blood. And he was very, very hungry. Starving.

  ‘Where’s my merchandise, John?’ Aziz asked coldly like he was nothing but a cyborg.

  John gave him a blank stare. Fear was crawling around his stomach like spiders in a dank basement.

  He took in a deep breath, quickly deciding it was probably best to just come out with what happened early doors. ‘They mugged me, Aziz,’ he replied straight up, looking down at his bed at the same time.

  Aziz crossed his arms over his chest and stood upright as if he were a Drill Sergeant. ‘They mugged you?’ he echoed. ‘Who mugged you?’

  John sighed. ‘The bastards who did this to me.’ He rubbed his eyes. Behind them, he could see masks—gimp, Scream, and Prince Charles. He groaned. ‘I don’t know who they were. They were waiting for me. They kept saying—give me the bag, give me the bag.’

  ‘And you did?’ asked Aziz, his voice loaded with incredulity.

  John tutted. ‘Course I didn’t! They had to smash me around with a fucking cricket bat and shoot me with tranquilliser darts to get it off me!’

  Aziz scratched his forehead in an agitated manner. He huffed. ‘I need that merchandise, John,’ he told him through clenched teeth. ‘Some very important people are waiting for that delivery. And believe me, they’re not the kind of people you let down.’

  ‘Look, I know—’

  ‘You don’t know shit!’ Aziz snapped, and now his eyes were as red as rubies, the horns on his head as black as soot. ‘I pay you good money to bring the delivery to me safely! Of course thieves and other scumbags want what you’re delivering; you know how much it’s all worth? Everyone wants their hands on Omar’s merchandise. He’s the best. But, I bid highest. And I pay you with the understanding that if someone tries to mug you, you fucking do what it takes to stop them. And if that means you kill them, then you fucking kill them!’

  Aziz stopped for a breath and everything went horribly silent. He pulled out a tub of Tic Tacs—the green and orange ones—from his jacket pocket, poured some into his hand, and gobbled ’em up.

  John stared down at his bedclothes. Just don’t look at him, re. Don’t look… Don’t—

  ‘You’ve got till Friday.’

  When he heard that, though, John looked up immediately. Aziz was now standing at the foot of his bed, his hands in his jacket pockets, chewing steadily on Tic Tacs. Those horns sat neatly on his head and even though his bloodshot eyes had calmed down, his jutting jaw remained set firmly in place.

  ‘It’s Monday, so you have four days—including today—to get my merchandise back.’

  John groaned and rubbed his head ’cos that pain was suddenly returning. ‘Friday? Aziz, I have no idea who they were…’

  ‘You can find them. Slugs, worms, leeches all leave a trail, John. You find them quick and you get my delivery back because someone representing my clients is coming to collect them on Friday afternoon to ship it all out the same day.’ Aziz spoke with a face like stone.

  John closed his eyes and rubbed his head some more. This was bad, very bad. ‘Aziz, man…’

  ‘Don’t give me ‘Aziz man’ shit! You fucked up, you fix it. You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance; anyone else and they’d be in here permanently.’ He straightened his jacket. ‘But, I like you, you have a pregnant wife, and you’re obviously in hard times right now, which is why I gave you this job in the first place… So I’m giving you another chance.’

  John sighed and looked away. ‘I appreciate that, Aziz. But where exactly am I supposed to start looking for ’em? I ain’t got a clue who they were. And they had guns. Guns, Aziz.’

  Aziz shrugged. ‘So what?’

  ‘So…I ain’t into carrying tools like that around, Aziz. It ain’t my thing.’

  Aziz laughed to himself. ‘But you were in the fucking army. You’re a trained killer.’

  John lowered his head. ‘That was a long time ago, Aziz.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. They trained you to take care of situations like this. What would you do if you were sent to another country to fight and you got surrounded by enemy troops? Huh? You’re expected to shoot your way out.’

  John chuckled to himself. ‘Well, that would never have happened, ’cos I didn’t finish my training, did I? I left early.’

  Aziz began nodding his head vehemently. ‘And that’s probably why these sons of bitches got away with my delivery. If you walked out on your own army, then it would be no problem for you to betray me.’

  John’s head snapped up and he gave him a dark, angry glare. ‘Don’t question my loyalty, Aziz. Ever. All right? I didn’t let this shit happen. I did all I could to stop ’em.’

  ‘And a great job you did too!’ Aziz said, clapping his hands together in a mocking fashion. ‘Well done!’ When he was finished, he placed his hands back in his jacket pockets and stared at John, his bloodshot eyes burning. He cleared his throat. ‘We live in a very, very unpleasant world, you and me, John. You already know that. Now, I’m a businessman first and foremost. We do whatever it takes to survive and to come out on top. Whatever it takes. You learn that now. If you stayed in the army a bit longer, you would have learnt this. This is war. This is life.’

  John looked away. The last thing he needed was the two-bit philosophy lecture. He fucked up, yes, but he never did it on purpose, and he definitely didn’t just let it happen. They had guns, gamota, bloody tranquilliser darts! He had his fists. That was all.

  ‘And I’m not paying you your money either,’ Aziz then said, making John’s face scrunch up in anger.

  He stared hard at Aziz. ‘I need that money, Aziz…’ he said in a stern voice. ‘Like you said, I got a pregnant wife.’

  ‘Then it’s simple. You find the bastards who stole my merchandise and bring it back to me by Friday. Then you get your money. Okay?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t argue, John. If you know what’s best for you, don’t argue…’

  John slapped his hands on his bed in frustration, making another horrible pain shoot through his head. ‘Okay, Aziz,’ he replied through gritted teeth. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was in a no-win situation and just had to accept it. After all, he had fucked up and in truth he did have to make up for it.

  But inside, he was getting mad at his luck. Why does God have to push me in a fucking corner every time? his mind vented. I’ve told him before, I don’t know how many times—I DON’T DO CORNERS!

  He looked back at the old man and saw that those fucking horns were still sticking out of his head. They were starting to bug him, big time.

  He let out an angry huff. ‘What is that on your head, Aziz?’ he asked uncompromisingly.

  Aziz just stared at him for a second, bemused. He glanced at Ahmed, then back at John. ‘Ar
e you fucking me around or what? What’s on my head? What are you talking about?’

  John held up his palms to show he didn’t mean offence. ‘I don’t know what it is, but…’ he looked at Ahmed. ‘Do you see it?’

  Ahmed gave John an incredulous stare before glancing at Aziz. ‘See what?’ he asked.

  ‘Just go like this, Aziz,’ John said, while patting the top of his own head.

  Aziz stared hard at him for a few seconds. John agreed that it sounded like he was taking the piss, but he had to know what those damn things were. To John’s surprise, Aziz reached for the top of his head and lightly brushed his hair, his eyes rolled to the side. He looked at his fingers afterwards, rubbing them together. He then looked from them to Ahmed, who shrugged.

  He touched them, he touched them gamota, and didn’t notice them. And they’re still there. He can’t feel them…

  John suddenly regretted mentioning them; the old man might think he was winding him up. ‘It’s all right, Aziz,’ he said, attempting to defuse things. ‘I thought you had something in your hair, that’s all. I was wrong.’

  Aziz’s back straightened and he pointed his finger at him. No doubt he was about to dish out a bollocking, when Alisha’s face popped up at the window embedded in the door of the room, saving John from another tongue-lashing. Her eyes were wide, taking in everything that was going on. When she saw Aziz still standing there, she frowned.

  ‘Looks like it’s time to leave,’ said Ahmed.

  ‘Looks like it, Ahmed,’ Aziz said, dusting his hands.

  Aziz then put his hands in his pockets again. ‘Johnny, listen. Ahmed brought your car here for you. It’s in the car park.’

  John watched Ahmed remove some car keys from his pocket, and place them on the table next to his bed. ‘Thanks, Ahmed,’ he said.

  ‘No worries, mate,’ Ahmed replied.

  ‘Remember, John. Friday,’ Aziz then said, pointing at him again. ‘I want them back by Friday.’ He then turned and opened the door.

  Alisha came in, her face a little sweaty, her halo still shining brightly.

  ‘We’re going to leave now, my dear,’ Aziz informed her in one of his most friendliest of voices.