The Make

Chapter 74

Alfie felt exceedingly strange. He was staggering along beside the wall towards the garage. He thought that Gracie was there and that Gracie needed him. At least, that was what he thought. He could be wrong. She had been floating in front of him just a while ago. Maybe a day ago. Maybe an hour, or a second. Somewhen, anyway. He was . . . he was pretty stoned. Drax had given him some stuff, injected him. He had fought, he thought he had fought, but Drax was huge and powerful, too powerful for Alfie to fight off.

George came into his mind then, and the girl, Sandy . . . engaged? What was that? And then he could see angels floating down through the black lacy outlines of the trees around the house, but the angels weren’t good, they were evil, with fangs . . . they would kill him.

Oho, bad trip.

This was a trip, right? He hoped it was. Angels drifting down and becoming . . . snow. Just snow, falling on his face, melting on his eyes, his lips. Cool, cool water.

But Gracie needed him . . . didn’t she?

He could be wrong.

He could be heading for Deano, not Gracie.

He could be heading straight for hell.

Where was Lefty? Usually Lefty gave him the hits, not Deano.

Lefty could be waiting for him up ahead.

Or Gracie.

Or both of them. Who knew?

He was outside the open garage door now, looking in. It was like twilight in there, lit by one of those things you fix on the wall. He could see floating things, ghosts maybe, tins of paint sprouting arms and legs, and Gracie was there, Gracie with a halo of luminous green all around her – and that was Harry, he was sure that was Harry, although he looked so different. And that . . . that was Deano, with his head all bloody, moving towards Gracie and Harry. Gracie was holding Harry up. There was a big coffin, freezer, something, against the wall, and oh, this was really appropriate, he thought: look at what’s on top of this thing.

Alfie lurched forward, pushing, stumbling past Gracie and Harry, and picked up the gun.

It was all a dream, anyway. Not real. He wasn’t really holding a gun. Harry wasn’t really there with his hands bleeding and his head looking like a mad barber had been trimming it up. Gracie wasn’t really there either, with her green glow and her face twisted in desperation and anguish.

All a dream.

So it was okay to shoot Deano.

Perfectly okay.

Alfie didn’t even take aim properly. He pointed the gun at Drax’s big torso, and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 75

Nothing happened. There was a sharp click, but the gun didn’t fire. Deano didn’t fall, Deano didn’t stop coming.

Was this a dream?

Alfie couldn’t be sure, but if it was a dream then it was a bad one. Deano turned on him like a raging bull, snatching the gun out of his hand. Harry and Gracie stood there, a perfect little tableau. Brother and sister, watching everything happen around them, powerless. Because now Deano had the gun.

Gracie watched Deano and thought: But didn’t I just bash his fucking brains out? He was weaving slightly, grimacing; she’d hurt him, but not badly enough. He was on his feet and he had the gun. She should have whacked him again while he was down, she could see that now. Too late. Harry was leaning against her; she knew that if she took her arm away he would simply fall to the floor. There was nothing she could do. Alfie was swaying on his feet, staring blearily around at them all as if unsure whether this was reality or nightmare.

‘You been keeping count, Harry?’ Deano said, screwing up his face. Blood was dribbling down from his head, splashing on to the immaculate camel-hair coat. He touched a hand to his scalp, then looked surprised at the blood on his hand. He stared with pure venom at Gracie, then at Harry. He pushed forward, pulling Alfie off-balance into the middle of the garage. ‘Get in here,’ he said roughly, as Alfie stumbled and almost fell. He pushed the three of them together and then he thrust the gun up underneath Harry’s chin. ‘You been keeping count, you little tosser? Because I have. There’re two shots left, and only one of them’s got firepower. You understand? So out of you two Doyle cunts, just one of you’s going to die tonight. So who’s it gonna be?’

He was aiming the gun at Harry, but now he drew back a pace, back towards the doorway, and had Gracie in his sights.

‘You hurt me,’ he said with a grimace. ‘You bashed my fucking head. Ruined my good coat.’

‘I wish I’d finished you off when I had the chance,’ said Gracie, looking death in the eye.

‘Well now you ain’t got the chance, bitch,’ he said, and pulled the trigger.

Both Gracie and Harry let out a shout. But again there was just the click of the empty chamber.

Now Drax was grinning through his pain, enjoying playing with them.

‘That’s it then,’ he said. ‘The last one’s got the bullet in it. So say goodnight, sweetheart.’ He levelled the gun at Gracie’s head.

Lorcan appeared behind Drax in the doorway just as he pulled the trigger. Lorcan lunged forward, shoving Drax off-balance. The gunshot made a huge noise, and the bullet whizzed by within inches of Gracie’s head. Lorcan followed Drax forward, knocking Gracie and Harry and Alfie aside. He grabbed Drax’s huge head in both hands and smacked it hard up against the garage wall, once, twice, three times.

Drax wavered on his feet. Fresh blood spurted out, spattering the garage wall. Lorcan smacked him up against the wall again. Again. All the while he was swearing, calling Drax a bastard, a fucker, he’d completely lost it.

‘Lorcan,’ said Gracie urgently, trying to grab his arm. ‘Enough.’

Drax was half-dead on his feet now, weaving about like a punch-drunk boxer. Lorcan kept whacking his head against the garage wall.

‘Enough!’ shouted Gracie again. Fuck, she didn’t want him getting landed with a murder charge. Drax was finished, she could see that. But Lorcan just kept on hitting him.

Lorcan butted the huge bowling-ball of Drax’s head once more up against the garage wall. There was a lot of blood now, and Drax was out of it. And still Lorcan was smacking him up against the wall, hammering that huge head into a pulp.

Gracie grabbed Lorcan’s arm and held on. His head swung round and he was looking at her with murderous rage in his eyes. Then his expression cleared. He was still. Finally, he straightened. Let Drax fall in a heap to the concrete floor. He stared down at Drax, then looked at Gracie, who slumped against the freezer, and Harry, who had sunk down on to the chair where he’d been held prisoner, and Alfie. Lorcan took a deep, calming breath, let the anger go.

‘Everyone all right?’ he asked them.

Gracie nodded shakily. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. ‘We’re fine. What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Right back at you,’ said Lorcan; and it was then that they heard the sirens approaching.