Kiss and Die

Chapter 26

Ruby left Mann at the Bruce Lee statue and texted as fast as she walked. She had done what she was asked to do. Her work was finished for the evening. She walked via the subway, through to Nathan Road and then back up the steps to the Mansions. The Africans were sat on the steps, watching. Ruby kept her head down as she passed them. She was sick of the way they sat around on the steps, talking, laughing. She was sick of the way their eyes followed her. They would regret it. They had had their day. The Outcasts would see to that. One by one they would be chased out of the Mansions or they would be picked off and slaughtered.

She passed Hafiz at the entrance to the Mansions. She hardly noticed him step in behind her but she knew he would be there. The Africans were watching him nervously too. Ruby felt Hafiz’s hand brush her arm. She turned and looked at him and smiled. He stared hard at her and then grinned. She nodded. He pulled a whistle from his pocket and let out three small beeps and one long blast and repeated it three times. Ruby walked quickly away from him. She took the stairs up to her floor. She cocked her head, pausing to listen at each landing. She heard the whistles being answered. The Mansions were coming alive with the sound of running feet.

‘He’s on the next landing,’ Hafiz shouted. This was Block C, floor twelve. Doors banged shut as the familiar whistles went up and down the landing. It was replica bag land, knock-off watches and fake designer goods, full of small factories, guesthouses, apartments.

‘Corner him,’ came a reply.

They chased their victim down the corridor. Their voices bounced off the concrete walls, their feet thundered and echoed up the piss-ridden stairwell and down the dark landings. The sickly hue of strip lighting threw their shadows up the graffiti on the walls.

‘Don’t let him get away,’ a girl shouted back.

The African ran till his heart was bursting. He ran blindly, not able to stop and listen; he heard the cries from every direction. He knew they were coming for him. Their feet thundered, their voices ripped the walls apart. He saw them at the other side of the stairwell door. He had nowhere left to run. Beside him was the shaft that dropped all the way to the bottom of the Mansions. He went to climb in, it was dark, filthy. Cables and sewage pipes clung to its walls but there was nothing for him to hang on to. He turned to face them. They were kids, wild eyed, panting from their chase. They held knives in their hands. He held his hands up for peace, surrender, compassion. One of them lunged forward and cut his forearm down to the bone. He cried out in pain as he withdrew his arm, cradled it, looked frantically around for an escape route. They closed in a circle around him. They were behind him now, all around.

‘Come on kids…please. That’s enough now. Let me go. I am sorry for whatever…please.’ Blood poured from his wounds; it dripped onto the stone floor.

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. They attacked him from all sides, slashing with a frenzy. Hafiz stamped on his dying body. The African’s eyes popped from his skull and his teeth clattered on the concrete floor.