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Short Story - Beginning/Middle/End - v1
Short Story - Beginning/Middle/End - v1
He started to say
something rude but his voice failed him. Frowning, he stretched his legs, shut his
eyes and tried to sleep.
‘Get out of the way!’
Another man quickly swam into focus and tripped over the beggar’s legs,
careening into the wall and hitting his head. With his legs giving way from
underneath him, he collapsed into a heap.
‘Shit’ the beggar said, crawling over to check the stranger, his irritation at
the first man quickly dissipating. A welldressed stranger was prone before him;
how fortunate.
‘Mate?’ the beggar said, quietly, trying not to stir him, his eyes drawn to
something shiny protruding from the stranger’s jacket pocket. Reaching out, his
fingers gripped the object; slippery, smooth, but too heavy to move. The man
stirred and groaned, causing the beggar to release his grip and quickly shuffle
backwards.
‘What?’ the man mumbled, nonplussed and exhausted. He picked himself
up off the floor, shaking out the tail of his jacket. ‘Sorry about that. I was chasing
after him… and now I seem to be covered in…’ he lifted his jacket to his nose
‘coffee? Why do I smell of coffee?’ He picked at a few stubborn pieces of refuse
before rubbing down his jacket.
‘You knocked over my cup,’ the beggar said, shuffling a little further
away. ‘But it was cold, don’t worry.’
‘I’ll fetch you another; it’s the least I can do.’ He smiled apologetically
down at the beggar, already forgetting the damage done to his expensive jacket.
Reaching down to right the spilled cup, he noticed the dog ends of some cigarettes
and other assorted jetsam in the cold, lightbrown slurry of coffee. It smelt a little
alcoholic too interesting, he thought, that a beggar could afford such luxuries.
Shrugging, he stepped out of the alley and looked around for his friend.
‘Gabe?’ he shouted, waiting for a response. When none came, he bent over
to catch his breath. With his head between his legs he could see that the beggar
was gone.
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‘Anthony!’ Gabriel called from the doorway of a café further up the street,
‘Over here!’ With the low cloud occluding his vision, he could only just make out
Gabriel’s silhouetted form.
Slowly straightening himself, Anthony began to walk. Placing one foot in
front of another, down the cold, cobbled street, he fought the cramps and the
exhaustion. In those 100 yards to the café, Anthony wondered how he’d ended up
here, in the middle of a deserted street. A deserted street in a small English town;
a town seemingly so far removed from civilisation that it didn’t even have street
lamps.
He stopped at the bright entrance to the café, smiling wearily at Gabe who
was sitting down at a table, already nursing a hot cup of coffee, his favourite.
Smiling, after everything they’d been through. It was that infectious enthusiasm –
that ready, cheeky grin – that had dragged him, kicking and screaming, along for
the ride. Yet again he had been reeled in by his enigmatic fervor to set off on
another reckless flight of fancy.
‘Perhaps ‘friend’ is too strong a term,’ he muttered to himself as he
stumbled across the plastic flooring and slumped into the chair opposite Gabriel.
Catching the eye of the only other person there, the owner, Gabriel quickly
ordered another coffee.
‘You know I don’t like coffee.’ Anthony sighed; they’d done this dance
before. It felt like they’d done this very same dance in every café in England.
‘Tea. I like tea. Well brewed tea, with a little milk. Tea.’
‘I’ll convert you eventually, trust me,’ Gabriel said with a grin; that same
grin that Anthony had seen all too often. Through America, Ireland and now
England it had been that grin, accompanied by his unerring, unswerving
confidence that had secured the information they had so desperately sought and
fought for. It was the same information that had led them, at great cost, to this
dingy café. Anthony nodded a thank you at the wrinkled owner of the café as she
retreated back behind the counter.
‘You know, I won’t enjoy this,’ Anthony said, lifting the cup of coffee, the
slightest trace of a grin forming at the corner of his lips. He couldn’t help but
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mirror Gabe’s grin. There was something about him, something which made
arguing a thoroughly fruitless exercise. He sipped it quietly. ‘You know, it might
taste like shit, but, right now – and don’t quote me on this – it’s just what I need.’
‘It couldn’t be helped, Ant. Sometimes it’s unavoidable.’
‘It’s always avoidable! And Gabe?’
‘Yeah?’ He was still grinning.
‘Don’t call me Ant. You know I hate it almost as much as I hate this
coffee,’ he said, gulping the rest of it down with a grimace. ‘You said this time
things would be different.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Mind you, you always say that; I
know I shouldn’t be surprised, but…’
‘Look, we got what we needed! Surely, in the grand scale of things, that’s
all that matters.’ It was a statement, not a question. Anthony had been here before;
he’d heard it all before. Different town, the same nonchalance – and the same,
damn coffee.
‘We didn’t even go back to check on the kid…’Anthony was staring down
into the dregs of his coffee, unable to look at his friend. Through the corner of his
vision he saw Gabriel’s grin quickly fade and his brow furrow. He was actually
sad; an emotion Anthony had seen in his face only a handful of times since they
were kids. Gabriel gently put down his cup and reached into the pocket of his
leather jacket for some money. By the time Anthony looked up he was grinning
again, though some of the impishness was gone.
‘I’ll pay for both of us,’ Gabe said, as if that would somehow make up for
the atrocity that Anthony and Gabriel had just perpetrated. Anthony nodded; he
was still too numb from the recent events to argue. He reached into his jacket and
touched his fingers gently to the wound; it was warm and sticky. The bleeding had
started again.
‘I must’ve torn the stitches back in the alley,’ Anthony said, wincing as his
fingers continued their gentle prodding. ‘Why did you have to run? Running
draws attention. That beggar –’
‘Because we had to get away quickly. Trust me.’ Gabriel quickly rose to
his feet and strode over to the door, his enthusiasm fully restored. He opened the
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door and a siren could be heard in the distance; he grinned even wider. ‘We
should get going.’
‘Is that a fire engine?’ Fragments of the last hour were bubbling up from
the groggy depths of his memory. Slowly he pieced them together to form a
complete vision. He flinched and gaped at Gabriel, aghast at what his friend had
set in motion.
‘I told you, we should get going.’
The beggar got up slowly and dusted himself off. His legs ached from all the
sitting and he needed to stretch. He’d been promised a small fortune to sit and
wait for the perfect chance, but it had come while he was asleep. The promise of
money; the promise of clean clothes and food and warmth had just been
squandered. With blood returning to his legs, he trudged towards where the men
had come. Sniffing and looking upwards to the rooftops, he noticed an acrid, oily
smell in the air. A tall building was alight, illuminating the thick fog. Quickly, a
spark of hope returning, he reached for the phone in his pocket. The buttons were
small and hard to work, a problem exacerbated by his cold, calloused fingers.
Hopping impatiently he waited for someone, anyone, to pick up. The object he’d
seen earlier, touched even – had he really come that close? Could they really have
done it? A nagging, chilling feeling of uncertainty was creeping along his fingers
and his arms. He shivered. The uncertainty he harboured was instantly replaced by
dread when someone answered the phone.
‘They got it.’ The whisper escaped his lips louder than he had hoped.
‘How?’ Agitated whispers could be heard.
‘I don’t know. And I can hear sirens. I think they torched the museum!’
The whispering continued, hushed and unintelligible. ‘Follow them.’
Gabriel and Anthony were walking slowly now, away from the burning museum.
Gabriel looked to his left, up at the sky.
‘It was necessary.’ He looked at Anthony.
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Anthony kicked at a rock and slowed his pace. He stopped, sighing. ‘I just
hope it’s worth it.’ He slid his bloody fingers into his jacket pocket for
reassurance. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s worth?‘
‘A lot, but…’ It was Gabriel’s turn to kick a stone towards Anthony.
‘Is it worth more than the museum we – you – torched?’
‘Let’s hope so.’
‘This is the bit where you say it’s just about liquidising the assets…’
Anthony walked on, leaving Gabriel behind him.
‘This time,’ Gabriel tried to catch up, ‘I’m sure we’ve got the right one.’
Anthony continued to walk ahead; his legs were longer than Gabriel’s.
‘Ant.’ Gabriel stopped and wheezed, out of breath.
Anthony turned, his gaze softening. ‘I’m the one with a knife wound,
remember?’
Something quietly exploded in the distance, rattling nearby windows.
Anthony flinched and glared; Gabriel hadn’t moved a muscle.
‘Surprise.’ Gabriel was still trying to catch his breath.
‘Always with the fireworks...’ Anthony wrapped an arm around his friend
and found himself grinning again, this time at Gabriel’s unhealthy love of
explosives. ‘Tell me, is she going to be in the car?’
‘Is it going to be an issue if she is?’
‘No.’
Gabe turned his wrist and looked at his watch, ‘We should hurry, we’re
late.’
Anthony tightened his grip around Gabe and picked up his pace.
Wounded, physically and mentally, but still the one doing the heavy lifting. He let
his feet do the walking, they knew where they were going. He’d been here before,
years ago. It had been lighter, less foggy, but the dark umber brickwork and tall
windows of the houses were instantly recognisable. Taking a shortcut through a
sidealley, Anthony found his thoughts wandering to the girl. Distracted, his grip
on Gabriel weakened.
‘Ant?’ Gabriel nudged him.
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He was quickly jostled out of his reverie and turned to look at Gabriel.
“Yeah?” He tripped on a rounded, anklebreaking cobble, but kept his balance.
Thoughts of the girl vanished. ‘If there’s one thing I won’t miss, it’s these damn
cobbles.’
‘I love this place.’ Gabriel grinned, running his hand over the rough
brickwork. He turned to Anthony. ‘Can I see it?’ There was a slight tone of
pleading in Gabriel’s voice.
Anthony shook his head and automatically moved to cover his pocket.
‘Later, when it’s safe.’
‘I wouldn’t steal it, you know that.’ Gabriel moved a little closer.
‘I know.’ They looked at each other and shared a moment from the same
memory. It was a lie, a small one, but significant. Only once had Gabriel stolen
something from Anthony. A girl. ‘We should wait until it’s safe.’
A car’s full beams cut through the mist, lancing into their eyes, blinding
them both. The roar of the engine grew louder as the car drew closer. Memories
from their shared childhood were triggered and instinctively Anthony moved in
front of Gabriel. The car slowed and swerved, pulling up. The door popped open,
spilling light from the interior.
‘Get in.’ It was a female voice. One they both recognised.
The beggar couldn’t see much out of the tinted windows. They were moving
quickly through the city, lunging past slowmoving traffic and racing through
barelygreen lights. A few minutes later and the roads were widening, the
buildings were thinning and the beggar was sure they were moving out of town.
‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ The voice came from the front passenger
seat.
Silence, punctuated by the gentlyvibrating bass of the engine. Then, the
scratch of the beggar’s fingernails and the slight, crusty sibilance of his lips being
licked and finally a quick, hissed intake of breath. ‘I’ve done it before, you know.’
The sound of papers being rustled – some more skin being scratched, nails
digging deeper.
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‘You were a younger man then.’ A roll of the fingers on the wooden
veneer and another brief rustle of papers. ‘Fine. One more chance.’
They drove on in silence for a few more minutes, through and out of a
suburb. They stopped alongside a chainlink fence and the beggar’s door slowly
opened. He nodded and climbed out, picking up a large case from the foot well.
Moving quickly to the fence, he knelt down and began to open the case.
Looking up, he nodded in the direction of the car, unsure why they were
waiting. A moment later, the car did a uturn and sped away into the darkness.
‘You burnt down the fucking museum!’
Gabriel and Anthony were both silent. They’d endured a fit of ranting for
the last 10 minutes, a task they’d both sat through with huge grins on their faces.
No matter what she said, or how she said it, Emma had a cute voice. Most people
would probably find it annoying: it was a little voice, squeaky, like a pixie. To the
two friends though, it was enchanting.
‘You’re both complete morons. Arrogant morons. Do you have any idea of
the value of the art you’ve just destroyed? Three priceless masterpieces! Why
blow it up? Who gave you the right?’
They both continued to listen, not offering any resistance. Anthony’s grin
slowly faded into the waxy smile of reminiscence. Gabriel begun to smirk,
Emma’s anger sparking a vivid recollection of when they’d last been intimate.
Sighing, his smirk fading, Gabriel turned to look at Anthony. They were both
veterans of Emma’s explosive onesided dialogue; it was one of her many traits
that they had both loved and hated. Anthony snapped out of his reverie and turned
to look at Gabe. Had it been the right move to give her up so easily? He looked
away from Gabe, worried that he might’ve read the note of jealousy in his face.
There was a sudden pause in Emma’s incessant stream of abuse. ‘Are
either of you two listening? Anyway, it’s unhealthy, the way you two spend hours
staring at each other and grinning like fools.’
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Gabriel’s features hardened and turned to look at Emma. ‘Jealous, my
dear? I thought we’d discussed this before…’
‘No, I am not.’ Anthony sniggered quietly, drawing a venomous glare
from Emma. ‘Anyway, stop changing the subject. You just levelled one of the
most important buildings in this city. Not only are you going to become two of the
most wanted criminals in the world, you’re going to be despised by historians for
centuries to come!’ Such a damning statement should’ve been delivered with
disgust or loathing, or even disappointment, but instead Emma sounded
surprisingly impassive, ruthless. At last, she had no more to say. Emma looked
between their two faces, the tiniest of sighs escaping her lips.
With her anger finally subsiding and giving way to the same young,
childish curiousity that had driven them to plunder the most valuable antique in
the world, she sat forward on her chair and slapped Gabriel’s thigh. ‘Let’s see it
then!’ She looked at Gabriel’s jacket, wondering where he’d stashed the relic. He
smiled and moved away from her hand, taunting her to come closer.
Anthony watched as both of his best friends giggled and playfought. By
the way Gabriel ducked and dived and rolled away, Emma must’ve realised that
he didn’t have the relic. Anthony scanned down Emma’s back, and then glanced
at her hips as she twisted and tussled with her tormentor. ‘Gabe!’ She giggled,
exasperated at his teasing. The energetic wrestling turned into a lingering hug,
Gabe’s arms wrapped around Emma’s body. She wasn’t thin or particularly pretty
but Anthony – and now Gabriel – had fallen in love with everything else: the
anger and passion, the cold, dangerous decisiveness, and her ability to get
anything done, no matter the repercussions. A few months ago Anthony would’ve
turned away from their embrace, but now he found himself content that both his
friends had found happiness.
‘I have it, Emma.’
She whirled out of Gabe’s grasp and turned to face Anthony. ‘Show me!’
Anthony looked out of the window. His hand was in his pocket, gently
hefting the object. ‘I’m still not sure if that’s a good idea. We don’t know enough
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about it…’ He was still looking out of the window, searching for some sign of
where they were. They were outside of town, that much he knew.
‘At least let me see it! After everything that’s happened today, I’m trying
to convince myself that it was worth it.’
Gabriel quickly sat up and rested his head on Emma’s shoulder. ‘Of course
it was worth it!’ He looked at Anthony expectantly. ‘Come on…’
There was the faintest hint of pleading in his voice again and it
immediately set Anthony on edge. ‘Look, we’re almost at the plane. After we take
off, somewhere over the Atlantic, when we’re actually safe…’ He was trying to
let both of his friends down gently but he could see from the bright fervour in
their faces that it wasn’t working. ‘That’s the entrance just up ahead. Be patient!
You’ll get to see it soon. Now sit back and get some ID out for the security
goons.’
A few minutes later, after a quick inspection by the guards, they rolled
across the concrete, empty expanse of the airfield. All three of them were silent,
pensive, looking out for the private jet that they had chartered.
Gabriel almost had his head out of the window, looking around for the
right hangar. ‘Over there. There’s someone standing outside it looking pretty
bored. I bet that’s the pilot…’
‘Well, if you hadn’t stopped to set the charges…’ Anthony turned from the
window to waste a withering look at Gabriel’s back. Emma grinned at Anthony.
‘I’m sure the charges were necessary, right Gabe?’ She patted his shoulder and
giggled.
The car stopped and Gabriel leaped out of the car. He turned and walked
backwards, taunting his friends in the car. ‘Let’s go! I wanna see that relic!’
Anthony climbed slowly out of the car, followed by Emma. She looked at
Anthony’s back and then down at the bulge in his jacket pocket. ‘Is that it…?’
Anthony turned and smiled at her. ‘Keep up, shorty, and I’ll show you in
the plane.’
‘You know, there was a time when you would do anything I asked.’ She
skipped quickly to catch up and walk alongside him. ‘I liked that…’ She grinned
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and tugged on Anthony’s jacket, stopping him in his tracks. ‘We still work well
together, right?’
‘We do.’
She stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss Anthony on the cheek. ‘You
really are too tall.’
‘It’s not my fault your mother experimented with human topiary…’
Emma frowned and started to walk towards the plane. ‘You know I’m
sensitive about my height. It’s hard to be taken seriously when you’re almost as
wide as you are tall.’
Anthony said nothing and kissed the top of her head. With Anthony and
Emma staring at each other, Gabriel turned around from the top of the boarding
stairs. ‘Are you coming?’
Anthony nodded and started to walk, leaving a thoughtful Emma to catch
up. ‘I wonder if I could get my legs lengthened or someth—‘ A massive,
thundering crack drowned out Emma’s voice. Fractions of a second later the
sickeningly damp crunch of metal hitting and splintering bone followed. Finally,
the echo of the sonic boom and heavy thud of a body hitting hard ground.
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