Revenge for Death

I looked in my rear view mirror, once again and the same motorbike was behind me, I didn’t think anything of it 20 miles ago but going down the motorway bikes usually thrash past you at unbelievable speeds. As I turned off at junction 32, the bike followed me. The lights ahead turned red and I slowed down and stopped just in front of the white line, the bike didn’t pull up beside me as a usual bike would but instead stopped behind me. The lights turned green and I sped along towards the A roads. The road was empty which seemed odd as it was only 3pm, the bike started to speed along side me and I saw his hand slip down his jacket a pull out an Uzi I looked I horror and I saw him aim for my head. I pressed the accelerator down as hard as I could almost forcing my foot through the steel underneath but the biker followed me and fired smashing bits of windscreen in front of me and shattering glass over me. The biker took aim again and shot this time the bullet flew threw the air and hit me in the arm. I lost control the car, the tyres screeched and the car swerved off course, it was heading towards a tree I couldn’t stop the car in time and I couldn’t avoid it, blood splattered on what was left of the windscreen and the you could hear the roar of the engine from the bike speed off.

*2 hours later*

Police cars were around the scene of the crash. Blue lights flashing and police rushing around trying to force camera crews away from the scene. The blue car that the man had been in was up against the tree. The bonnet was crushed and the windscreen was cracked and splattered with blood. A man came rushing through the crowd throwing the people around him out of the way; tears were streaming down his face as he was shouting

“Get out of my way”

He pushed passed the police and through the barrier and then stopped he stared at the car and looked away for a second. The man shuffled forward closer to the car and reluctantly opened the door, another man fell out of the car he was very limp and lay motionless on the floor, his blood was covering his face so it was hard to make out his features, immediately though the man that had just arrived stepped back horrified by this. More tears came streaming down his face as a woman came through the police barrier; she was wearing a bulletproof vest and a police hat along with the full uniform. She looked at the man as she was walking over to him and she placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Mr Harrison” she asked in a soft understanding tone

The man sniffed and replied without making eye contact with the woman

“…Yes”

“My name is DI Jones and im here to help you…. I understand this is your father”

“It is”

“We have reasons to believe that he was murdered there is cracks in the windscreen that look like they may have been caused by gun fire”

Mr Harrison looked up; he looked disgusted by what he heard. He went down to one knee and started to tie his shoelace at the same time he felt around the back of his ankle, a knife lay there being pressed against his calves by his sock and his shoes, he got up and started to leave

“Mr Harrison you..”

“Not now”

As he exited the police barrier microphones and Dictaphones were thrashed into his face and news presenters asking for an interview, he just stopped looked into the camera and silence fell, he said

“The Murderers will pay for what they have done”

Noise erupted once more as he walked away from the scene. Mr Harrison climbed into his convertible and opened the glove compartment and took out a parcel, he opened it and very carefully took out a revolver, he checked the ammo in it then put the parcel with the revolver inside back into the glove compartment and locked it. He sped away leaving behind the commotion from the murder.

*A few years later*

Mr Harrison pulled into his drive and parked his car in the garage. The sun was beating down on him and he took his suit jacket off and threw it into the back seat, he walked up towards the front door and stopped his front door was ajar, he sneaked up towards it and put his ear as close to the door as possible, he heard voices inside and crying, his son was crying, he ran back to his car and jumped over the door and into the seat, he fumbled with his keys dropping them a few times, until he found the glove compartment key he opened it and took out the revolver. He looked at the gun for a minute then at his house again, he checked the ammo inside it again closed it and hurriedly climbed out and ran back up to his house. He peeked through his door and slowly entered the voices were clearer now, they were coming from upstairs, an Italian accent came clear as day and Mr Harrison could easily tell what he was saying

“ssssshh I think some one is downstairs”

Mumbling came from upstairs then he moved into the room next to him afraid he was going to be seen. He heard footsteps and then they stopped and someone shouted upstairs

“There’s no one down here you fool… the door is open though”

He closed the door and went back upstairs. Mr Harrison poked his head through the door and went towards the stairs being careful not to make them creak he ascended them. Ever since his father had been murdered he had been training with guns, swords or with anything that he could kill a man with, he had been told how to kill a man with a £1 coin, he remembered how to hold the gun and how to fire it so he could get the bullet on target as often as possible, all this would surely pay off, he however wasn’t very good at the other side of the training, learning how not to get shot. He got outside the room were these men were and hesitated. He got hold of his gun spun around the corner at speed and pulled the trigger. He hit one of the men directly in the back of the head; scarlet blood spurted from his head and covered the wall. The were three other men, two big men that seemed to be like bodyguards and one fat man in-between them he was sitting down in a chair, a small lanky man was standing in front of him, he was the man Mr Harrison shot, he lay motionless on the floor and the three other men reacted firing without aiming at him, He however didn’t want to take the chance one bullet is all it takes, he moved behind the wall and the shooting stopped,

“Well don’t just stand there go and kill him”

Mr Harrison span around the corner again with immense speed and fired two shots both hitting the two big men one got shot directly in between the eyes and fell to floor in a heap, the other man got shot in the chest and he stood there for a while Mr Harrison stared at him and raised his gun to shoot again but he fell to floor and a puddle of blood spewed across the floor. The fat man was still sat down and he slowly got to his feet, he had a shotgun cradled in his arms and he started to speak

“So you have grown up I see Petey”

Mr Harrison was stunned by this and raised his gun to him

“You wouldn’t shoot me now would you Petey… not after all we’ve been through”

“Who are you?”

He stood there and looked at this fat old man, he had very thin hair and it was turning grey, his stomach was making his trousers strain as it bulged over the sides,

“Why Petey…im hurt”

“Then tell me who you are… or ill kill you were you stand”

“HAHA you were never brave as a child Petey”

“Stop calling me Petey”

“Pete is it then?… I remember when you broke your arm falling out of that tree… you cried so hard, your daddy had to take you to the hospital were you got a cast and then got your first girlfriend…remember”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because Pete… I am your uncle”

“You’re my uncle!”

“Yes and I know what question you’re about to ask me and yes I did kill your father. I was always hidden in his shadow… well id had enough so I ordered the kill, fortunately he crashed into a tree and made it look like an accident. Well they never found me did they”

“Why?… Why did you kill him?… he was your brother”

“Oh there were many reasons Pete”

“Then tell me why”

“It would take too long”

The fat man took out a cigar and sat back down in the chair. He lit and puffed on it for a while, Pete was still holding the gun tightly with his sweat-covered palms.

“At least tell me your name”

“My name is Joe”

“And why did you kill my father”

“You repeat this question over and over again im getting bored now”

“Well you wouldn’t get bored if you told me why”

“I have told you already it would take too long”

Pete looked at Joe as he was puffing away on his cigar and looked at the men around him. He took a seat opposite him; Pete kept the gun in his hand at all times, just in case.

“Come on Pete let you guard down you know im not going to hurt you”

“Then why were you in my house”

“Again it would take too long to explain this to you”

Pete stood up red in the face with anger

“EVERYTHING WILL TAKE TOO LONG TO EXPLAIN WITH YOU”

“Pete calm down it is very complicated, however I do plan on telling you… one day”

Pete sat back down and put his head in his hands, He heard a click and looked up. Joe was sat there still puffing on his cigar pointing a gun at him. Pete looked confused he was looking down a barrel of a gun he didn’t know how to react to this.

“Im so sorry Pete but I’ve decided you too much of a risk to me”

“What do you mean you could leave the country and I would never see you again”

“Oh I don’t believe that you think that. You know as well as me that as soon as I leave this house you will be tracking me and following me wherever I go looking for the perfect opportunity to kill me”
“Why would I risk my family…My family were are they”

“There safe”

“Where”

“In this house. I will not kill them they haven’t seen or heard me. just you”

Pete stood lifted his gun to meet Joes in the air, both men were ready to shoot one another.

“I don’t think you have the guts Pete”

“I killed these men didn’t I”

“They weren’t your family though”

Pete took a few steps back towards the door but Joe fired, He hit Pete in the upper arm. Pete howled at the top of his voice and fell to the ground fortunately his gun was still in his hand, he lifted it as high as he could, aimed and fired, the bullet flew through the air hitting its target directly in the forehead, Joe’s head flung back and he fell to the floor landing a few inches away from the chair. Pete got to his feet slowly and walked over to Joe, he looked into his cold expressionless face; he couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like without all this chaos. Pete looked at the cupboard door and saw it move slightly. He held his gun firmly with his hands and flung open the door, there was his son and wife the both looked horrified, Pete untied and ungagged them; they both ran into his arms. Luckily no one was in next door so no one heard gunshots.