Jimmy Coates: Killer. Joe Craig
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something more for him. Then they did–but it wasn’t the extra burst of speed that Jimmy was hoping for. Instead, he hurdled over a front gate and down the side of a house. In two leaps he was up on to the wall and over the gate into someone’s back garden. He took a hefty kick at the football lying on the lawn and saw that the back of the garden was surrounded by a high fence. It must have been twice as tall as he was. Behind him the garden gate was rattling.
Jimmy didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He sprinted forward and with three huge steps he left the ground. He reached up for the top of the fence and grabbed it with both hands. Then before he could process what was happening, he had pulled himself over. His knees buckled as he landed. He staggered for a couple of metres before regaining his balance, then looked around, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve. In front of him lay the dark oasis of the park.
Mitchell was still running. He saw the two men give up the chase and thought all the complications were over. Now he could catch the boy himself and take his bag. No problem. He zipped past the two men. They were bent double and completely out of breath. He hit the main road. It was only then that he realised how long he had been running, and how far.
He saw the two cars steaming after Jimmy. This boy doesn’t have a chance now, Mitchell thought. He stood still for a second and watched Jimmy running away from the cars, amazed and a little impressed too. As soon as Jimmy turned, Mitchell started running again. The desire to steal Jimmy’s bag was matched now by curiosity. He didn’t feel tired and was hardly short of breath, but he stopped at the top of the road that Jimmy had turned down, astounded at what he saw.
The cars screeched up to the kerb and four men jumped silently out of each. All eight were in dark suits. Mitchell watched them burst through into the back garden, then return moments later. They didn’t have the boy. One of the men started babbling into a walkie-talkie, his face red from running in the cold.
Mitchell was confused. How could they not have caught him? He hung back, so as not to be seen. Then Mitchell realised how the boy had managed to escape–the park was behind that row of houses. Once you were in the park at night, there were no lights. That’s why it was one of Mitchell’s favourite places to snatch bags.
He jogged back round the corner and headed for the entrance to the park. If he was quick enough, he might catch up with the boy as he ran out. It looked like the others had had the same idea, because they had climbed back into their cars and were heading that way themselves. They were driving slowly, though, as if they weren’t sure where they were going, or even as if they wanted to give the boy a chance to get away.
Mitchell hunched his shoulders as they drove past, half from the cold and half out of an instinct not to be noticed. Then he realised they were looking at him. A torch shone right into his eyes. He flinched and put his hand up to block the beam. It lingered for a moment, then the cars moved stealthily on like a funeral procession. A streetlight caught a small green stripe at the back of each as it drove away.
Mitchell turned the corner and checked that the cars had gone. He was about to give up and go home, but he couldn’t get the boy out of his head. There must be something in the bag really worth having.
The park gate was locked, of course, so he shinned up the side and swung his body over. He had caught his jeans on the spikes at the top so many times now that it didn’t bother him. On the other side he let himself drop into the dust, and brushed a twig from his hair. It needed the clippers again. Now his blood was pumping again, warming him up. He searched the park, picturing the riches he refused to miss out on.
Jimmy sprinted on for a minute, then slumped to the ground and held his breath. He listened, to find out whether the men had followed him over the fence, but they hadn’t. Then all his tiredness hit him again. The ground was cold and wet so he put his bag underneath him.
He knew the park, and while it was a relief to find a familiar place, it looked very different at night. He was afraid. It wasn’t just two men who were after him. There were loads of them. In his memory, the sound of the group chasing him was magnified into a whole army. How could he possibly escape? In fact, how had he escaped? He had never run like that before.
Now he had cooled down from the chase he was shivering. Those men in the car had been waiting for him. But how had they known he was going to be walking down that particular street? Jimmy hadn’t even known it himself. Then he had a sudden flash of being under the car in his driveway at home, and hearing the hiss of a walkie-talkie for the first time that night. “Set up a perimeter,” one of them had said. There must have been men waiting for him in all the streets around where he lived. But why?
Jimmy stood up and tugged the extra jumper out of his bag. He took off his jacket and pulled the jumper over the one he was already wearing. Then he squeezed his jacket over the top and sat down on his bag, against a tree. He shoved his hands into his pockets, but couldn’t bring himself to shut his eyes.
Instead, he dug some food out of his bag and tried putting some of it together. His hands were too cold, though, and his attempt at a sandwich quickly fell apart. He munched on the debris. Then, suddenly, there was a shadow in front of him. The figure rested for a second with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
“Give me your bag!” he hissed.
JIMMY COULDN’T BELIEVE what he had just heard. He stood up and dropped the sad remains of his food. His mind was blank. He opened his mouth slightly, but nothing came out.
“Give me your bag,” Mitchell repeated. Then shouted. “Did you hear me? Give me your bag!”
Jimmy looked down at his bag, dumbstruck. He had no idea what to do. He was even too surprised to be scared.
Mitchell was fed up. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. It was actually making him a little nervous that Jimmy seemed to be considering his question, assessing whether it was worth giving up the bag. Mitchell pulled himself up to his full height, which wasn’t a great deal taller than Jimmy. His eyes flicked between the boy and his bag. Should he ask one more time? What if the boy didn’t speak English? There was only one way to sort this out, he thought.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he strode forward. Jimmy didn’t move. So Mitchell stuck out the palm of his hand and pushed Jimmy out of the way. Jimmy lurched back and felt a pain in his chest where Mitchell had made contact. As Mitchell reached down for the bag, Jimmy came straight back.
At the split second that Mitchell bent over to pick up the bag, Jimmy jammed his foot into the back of Mitchell’s knee and dug it in. Mitchell collapsed forward, then looked round, furious. Pulling the bag up with him, he swung it at Jimmy’s head, but Jimmy was too fast. He ducked with ease and caught Mitchell’s arm as it swung past, pulling it down and towards him. Mitchell didn’t have the balance to stay upright and reeled forward. His face hit the ground this time, and it wasn’t kind. Jimmy planted his foot firmly on the back of Mitchell’s neck.
“Let go of my bag,” he said. He sounded calm, but inside Jimmy was amazed at his own speed, strength and reactions. He had watched himself moving and seen someone who really knew how to win a fight. There was no fuss, just efficient and devastating moves. The violence in him had sprung from nowhere, telling him what to do, or doing it for him.
Mitchell had never stood a chance. His face was squished against the cold dust. He couldn’t feel anything except the pressure against his neck that was so close to cutting off his breathing. That and shame. The physical discomfort was matched by the pain of injured pride. He opened his fingers slowly, letting the strap of the bag fall.
Jimmy kicked it away but kept his eyes fixed on the back of Mitchell’s head. In the dim light he could make out the glistening of a tear on Mitchell’s eye as it rapidly blinked, trying to throw off the soil of the park. Then, with a rush of awareness, Jimmy felt terrified by what he had done. Until tonight it had been completely alien