ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror

Andrew gave her a little shove. “Tell me!”


She snapped back to reality again. “I…I don’t know. She slipped into the fat-fryer. Got her arm all burnt up.”

Andrew examined the girl’s expression closely. She was staring into space again as if she were incapable of making eye-contact.

“Bullshit!” he said.

The girl flinched, looked at him, but still said nothing. More tears began to expel themselves down her cheeks.

Andrew put a hand on her shoulder again and squeezed gently. He looked her dead in the eyes and made sure she saw him. “Frankie did this, didn’t he?”

The girl shrugged free of his grasp and hurried away. She rushed inside the chip shop and locked the door behind her. Andrew shook his head and felt tears of his own well up in his eyes.

So much for answers, he thought.

The ambulance revved its engine and started to pull away. Andrew tried to get a look in through the back windows, to see if Charlie was okay, but the glass was frosted and gave no opportunity to do so.

He stood in shock for several minutes, praying to god that the poor girl on her way to the hospital was not hurt because of him.

Because of Frankie.

As the initial shock diluted into his bloodstream and eventually faded away completely, it was replaced by a fury so alive with hatred that it seemed electrical in nature, sparking through Andrew’s system and making his flesh tingle. He started for home again, wondering how he would ever explain to his family that, for the second time this week, the chips were cancelled.

***

“What do you mean you’re going to the hospital?” Pen asked him.

“I need to go check on someone,” Andrew told his wife. “The girl from the chip shop. She told me where Frankie lives and I think he’s hurt her because of it.”

Pen almost spat the red wine she was drinking and had to swallow carefully to avoid choking. “He’s put a girl in hospital now? Jesus Christ!”

“And it might be my fault,” said Andrew, “which is why I need to go.”


Pen collapsed onto the sofa, almost spilling her wine. Not that it would have mattered with the carpet in the state it was. “Crazy! This whole thing is just…crazy!”

Andrew sat down beside his wife and put an arm around her. “I know, but perhaps the girl will press charges and Frankie will get banged up again. Lord knows he deserves it.”

“You want me to come with you?”

Andrew shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t be fair to Charlie. She probably won’t want to see me, let alone my family. You stay here and look after Bex. I think she’s more upset about this situation than she lets on.”

“Okay,” said Pen. “Give this…Charlie…my best, okay?”

Andrew kissed his wife goodbye and left the house again. The hospital was five or six miles away so he would need to take his car to get there. Hopefully, now that it was dark, the graffiti written all over it would not be visible.

Andrew pulled out his car keys and pressed the alarm fob. The car’s lights flashed twice.

To the pedo-mobile, Andrew thought as he looked at the once-beautiful feat of German engineering. He pulled open the driver’s door and hopped inside, plonking his butt down into the leather seat. The ignition started as soon as he turned the key and the car was already moving when Andrew began fumbling for his seatbelt. His eyes were off the road only a few seconds while he looked back to retrieve it, but it was long enough to completely miss the person standing in the road.

The car hit at only 20mph, but it was quick enough to launch the stranger up onto the bonnet and back down to the pavement again.

Andrew stamped on the brakes.

The tyres squealed.

The car stopped.

There was a body lying in the road and Andrew could not believe it. His world kept getting worse with each passing second.

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