The Trafficked

57

‘Just cool it, bro.’

‘I told you to get packing, Reese. We’re leaving.’

‘There’s no point, bro. We may as well sit it out, relax, no one’s lifting off tonight. There are no planes taking off till tomorrow. It’s a mañana moment, bro. It happened here-it’s not civilisation as we know it.’

‘No shit, Sherlock! If I want your input I’ll ask for it…now get the fuck up and start packing.’

Reese lay back on the bed and rolled another joint. He watched Sophia play with Princess Pony. Terry was packing his things into a bag. Secretly, Terry agreed with Reese, there was no point in moving now-where were they going to go? They would have to sit in the airport for the night. But he wasn’t going to say anything, not for a minute. Reese was doing his usual trick of not fully understanding when someone was at breaking point. He just never knew when to shut up. The Teacher looked like he was scared-Terry hadn’t seen him like that before. Mr Cool, Calm and Collected was properly shitting himself about something.

Reese lit the joint and drew heavily on it, keeping the smoke in his lungs as long as he could before exhaling. He offered it to Terry, who shook his head and continued packing. There was a stark light in the room. The Teacher had insisted that they close the doors. The room was gaining heat-it didn’t bother the locals but the Teacher was sweating. His forehead had become speckled in glistening beads. His shirt was showing signs of wetness where it stuck to him.

‘Put the fucking air-con on-who the fuck switched it off?’

Reese shrugged and kept rolling. ‘It happens here, bro, it ain’t a conspiracy.’ But secretly it made Reese smile. He was going to roll himself a stash of joints. He thought he would need them tonight. He was damned if he’d do without everything-no sex, even his flirtation with the English blonde had been cut short-no fucking way was the Teacher going to spoil his entire night. If nothing else, he would get stoned.

Sophia stopped trotting Princess Pony over the furniture and stared at the Teacher, who had sweat dripping from the end of his nose. Her eyebrows knitted together. Then she started to giggle. Terry stopped his packing, looked at her and smiled, amused. Reese lay back on the bed and started laughing hard. His body was shaking with it. The hand holding the joint was banging on the bed and the ash was flying over the cover. Terry started laughing. Sophia continued her manic giggling. The angrier the Teacher looked, the more they laughed.

The Teacher went for Reese but he hadn’t bargained on him being so quick on his feet. Reese was nimble whilst the teacher was bulky. Reese could outrun him anytime. As the teacher went for him, Reese was out of the door. He ran the first stretch, till he was clear of the hotel and the lane and on the far end of the beach, then he dodged between the boats. The stars were out; the sky was frosted with them. He crouched and listened as he peeped over the top of the barcas. He never thought to look behind him. Noiselessly through the sand a man walked in the darkness. He came within three feet of Reese’s back before he lifted his dagger by the hilt and brought it down into Reese’s neck. It went right through, and came out of his Adam’s apple.