The Wrath of David Read online

  “You Billy?” David asked, calm and slow.

  Billy gave an arrogant grin. “The one and only, dude,” he replied. “What do you want?”

  David deliberately delayed his next words and actions. This gave Billy a few seconds to glance behind David. In the shadows of the huge front garden, his eyes fell upon his two security bouncers, both lying unconscious or perhaps even dead, just off from the garden path.

  “I’m here to have a word with you about Louise,” David finally stated.

  Billy didn't seem to care or register what David had said. “What the fuck happened to my guys, man? Did you do that to my men?” he cried, sounding a little anxious.

  “I'm here on behalf of Louise,” David calmly stated once again.

  “Who the fuck is Louise?” Billy raged, still utterly confused as to what was happening.

  “She's the underage girl you raped tonight.”

  Billy chuckled at that. “I didn't rape anyone tonight, mate. Look at me. I'm fucking gorgeous. It's not my style. It would go against my whole genetic code,” he continued with a cocky, winning grin. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually enjoy it when my girls don't fight back. But you'll need to do better than that, my man. There were shit-loads of girls here tonight.”

  David glared hard and steel like, right into Billy's eyes. It sent a raw chill right through Billy's spine. He knew in that instant that the man standing in front of him was probably the most dangerous man he had ever come across in his life.

  Billy made a split-second decision to slam the front door shut, straight into David's face. At the exact same time, David made a spontaneous and swift grab for Billy, who was too quick to close the front door over.

  David’s right hand slammed hard against the oak door. He yelled and roared at the painful impact before punching and pounding then shoulder-barging the solid wooden door. Harder and harder he hit, like a man possessed. Like the only way he could redeem his sins or have whatever he wanted from life lay behind that oak door frame. In a split second, he had turned into a wild and savage beast.

  From a house across the street, an elderly white man watched the raging David desperately trying to break down the door of the house across the street. The old man picked up his telephone.

  Back inside the house, Billy fled past his two stunned and stoned friends in the living room. He hurried towards the kitchen like a bat out of hell.

  “What the fuck's going on, Billy?” the second teen cried while the first teen, looking even more stoned than before, just giggled hysterically. “Who the hell's breaking down the front door, man? And where the hell are Reggie and Ronnie?”

  Meanwhile, with a shocking and furious rage, David punched the front door of the house until it flung itself open, dangling from its hinges.

  At the rear of the house, a frantic Billy tried to open the locked back door with a key, any key he could find on the key rack nailed to the wall beside the door. Finally, he found the right one. He unlocked the door and flung it open, smashing a row of large potted plants as he burst out into the night.

  Billy ran as fast as he could to the very back of the dark garden. He took a big run and jump at the huge wooden fence there. The fence was far too high, though, for the stoned Billy to even contemplate climbing over at his first attempt.

  Billy fell back and off balance as his grip gave way a second time. He landed in an awkward and uncomfortable heap upon the garden grass. Quickly he tried to gather himself. He staggered back onto his feet only to turn around briefly and see David standing calmly in front of him.

  “If this,” Billy cried as he desperately tried to catch his breath, “is about that lying Paki, Muslim, bitch...”

  “How do you even know she's a Muslim or from Pakistan?” David calmly asked. “She was born and bred in Scotland. Britain, you ignorant, arrogant little wanker. She's never even been out of the country before.”

  “Fuck you, man. They're all the same at their hearts’ core. And she's a fucking liar, too,” Billy spat back. “I just sold her drugs for sex, that was all. It was a fucking business deal. I didn't know she had a fucking pimp already, man, fuck.”

  David gritted his teeth and shook his head. He punched Billy in the stomach with a medium strength hit, knocking the wind out of him. Billy fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. He tried to get up while holding his stomach and gasping for breath, but it was far too painful. He remained where he was on the ground.

  “I swear ... whatever that little immigrant bitch said ... she's a fucking liar,” Billy roared. “Nothing happened that she didn't want to fucking happen ... all right?”

  “Shut up. Just ... don’t speak. Don’t even fucking breathe any of your rancid, racist shite anywhere near me.” David edged closer to Billy. He leaned down and into him before dragging him back up onto his feet by the scruff of his hair. Billy howled in agony as David lifted him by his roots. “Your kind ... you people ... you make me so fucking sick to my stomach,” David said as he continued to hold Billy.

  Suddenly, David remembered that awful day when he'd lost his Ashley. He remembered walking through a Highland marsh with a dead deer wrapped over his shoulders. From beyond the next forest and over the next set of hills, he could see a thick and heavy cloud of black smoke. It poured up and over the Highland landscape, filling the dull, cloudy sky above.

  David immediately dropped the deer and his backpack full of weapons. Soon he was sprinting with all his strength, will and determination through the forest, over the hill and up an old country dirt road, which finally ran straight towards the smoke. He ran onto the same Highland clifftop clearing from his earlier dream. This time the old cottage was burning furiously into nothing but smoke, ashes and dust. David was about to run for the burning cottage when something caught his eye beside the oak tree near the cliff edge.

  A dark and grim-looking figure hung by its neck from one of the thick tree branches. David froze where he stood, almost choking with the shock of what he saw. He fell to his knees. He had lost all his strength and balance.

  David was suddenly brought crashing back to his senses by the whining and frantically struggling figure of Billy.

  “Please, man. Please ... I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, all right?”

  In a blind rage, David kicked Billy in the stomach, sending him flying backwards with great force. As Billy flew back through the air, he tripped, stumbled and then fell over a small rock decoration before smacking his head against the side of a stone garden bench resting in the darkness close to the back fence a few yards behind him. When Billy finally hit the garden floor, he lay still and flat, face down on the grass.

  “Come on, you little bastard. Get up!” David cried as he tried to restrain his anger.

  Billy remained motionless. David fell quiet and approached the teenage boy. He crouched over him before turning him around to reveal a gaping, bloodied wound upon his limp and lifeless forehead. David glanced at the stone bench and saw Billy’s blood smeared all over the corner along with chunks of skull and flesh.

  In the distance, he heard the sound of a police siren gradually approaching. Suddenly one of Billy’s friends, the second and more sober of the teenage boys, raced to the back door. He glanced out into the dark garden. The boy struggled to see at first as his eyes desperately adjusted to the night. He then jumped in fright when he saw a huge, dark figure sprinting like a leopard from the back shadows of the garden to the side of the house. The teenager was about to call after the running shadow when his eyes fell upon the lone, motionless figure of Billy, still lying beside the stone bench at the back of the garden.

  “Billy,” the teen cried.

  Around the side of the house, David hid behind an overflowing rubbish bin in front of a tall gated side fence that separated the front of the house from the back. He watched as two army police officers pulled up outside, exited their jeep and approached the house.

  David took a quick glance to his left, where an old garden pitchfork caught his eye.


  The two military police officers, one male and one female, studied the house’s broken front door and the two out-for-the-count bouncers, one of whom was now moving around slowly while groaning in pain.

  The female officer called into the open hallway. “Hello. It's the military police. Is anybody there?”

  The first stoned teenager appeared at the front door, still puffing away on his joint. He looked chilled at first, then a little excited to see the destruction at the front of the house, along with the two military police officers. “Man. This is some awesome fucking shit, I tell you,” the teen said, motioning to his large joint with a big, beaming grin.

  “Are you all right?” asked the female officer.

  “One of your neighbours reported a disturbance,” said the male officer.

  “Jesus, guys. You should have been here earlier when we had the best and biggest goddamn party this island has ever seen,” the teen cried before bursting into a fit of laughter.

  The two officers just glanced, slightly bemused, at each other. They were about to ask what had happened to the two huge bouncers lying on the ground when the second teen ran frantically into the hallway towards them. “He’s dead. He's fucking dead,” the teen cried.

  “Who's dead?” the female officer replied.

  “Billy. Billy's fucking dead.”

  The first teen, who was well and truly wasted, just laughed even harder, slowly crouching onto the hallway floor. “Man. This really is some good fucking shit.” He giggled.

  The two officers quickly withdrew their handguns. The female officer stepped into the house while turning back to face the male officer. “Radio base and ask for some backup immediately, and a bloody medic team too while you‘re at it,” she yelled.

  The male officer ran back up the front garden path, jumping over the two groaning bouncers as he headed towards the army jeep parked on the street. “What the fuck?” he gasped as he came to a sudden halt. All four tyres had been slashed wide open and a large garden pitchfork had been slammed into the middle of the bulky jeep radio.

  The officer glanced every which way he could, but he saw no sign of anybody else on the street. He turned his attention to the huge house opposite. On the second floor was a light. An old man stood watching the whole commotion from his bedroom window.

  Chapter 11

  The first sign of the sun's morning light was teetering on the brink of the eastern horizon as David quietly entered his home. Louise was still sleeping soundly on the couch as David crept towards a nearby cabinet. Careful not to wake her, he took his wallet and some ID papers from one of the draws. When he finished getting everything he needed, he gently closed the drawer only to hear Louise's voice speak out to him from the darkness.

  “David?” Louise said with a weary voice that sounded still half-asleep.

  David turned around to face her. “I thought you were sleeping,” he replied. If he was irritated that he'd been interrupted in his task, he didn't show it.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Louise asked.

  David hesitated, debating whether to lie to her now. He wanted to lie, to try to protect her in his own little way, but he knew it would be only a matter of hours before she discovered the truth for herself.

  “Billy’s dead,” David finally said.

  Louise sat up in shock. “What?”

  “It was an accident. I beat him. He fell. He hit his head. I only meant to scare him and rough him up a little, but yeah ... what's done is done now, I guess.”

  “Oh my God,” Louise gasped. Her guilt suddenly overwhelmed her.

  “I have to leave right now,” David continued. “You can stay here if you want or you can go back to your own place. It's completely up to you.”

  “Where are you going?” Louise asked as she wiped away tears.

  “Far, far away from here.”

  “I can’t believe ... Billy’s really, actually dead? You went back there and killed him ... for me. Why?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “This is all my fault,” Louise replied as she placed her face in her hands.

  David sighed. “It’s not your fault, okay? He was a racist, drug-dealing scumbag. He had it coming. If not from me, then from some other fucking nut job out there. Now go home, Louise. Please. And try to stay out of trouble.”

  David turned and hurried into the hallway. He approached the front door and hesitated. Back in the living room, Louise was up and on her feet in no time. She was quick to follow David through into the hallway. Before he could even open the front door, Louise was calling to him again. “But won’t the police ... I mean the army ... won't they be after you now?”

  “They should be. If they’re any good at their jobs,” David replied, his fingers already on the door latch, ready to snap it open. “But they're still dealing with their own fucked-up refugee and war shit right now, so I'm hoping they won't have the time or the resources to follow up on this any time soon.”

  “But wasn't Billy a high priority? He supplied drugs and favours to anyone who wanted them on the island, including the military.”

  David gritted his teeth. He'd already wasted enough time coming back here. He didn't need these prying questions and unwanted chit-chat from Louise.

  “Goodbye, Louise.”

  Louise was about to protest when David opened his front door and stepped outside, much quicker than she'd anticipated.

  He still had one foot in his hallway when he hesitated. What he saw outside caught him off guard. Six armed military policemen were exiting a recently pulled-up jeep in the car park at the front of the house. A high-ranking officer was dispatching them towards the front and back of the row of houses where David lived. Another truckload of army guys screeched into the car park.

  David stepped swiftly back inside his house and closed the front door firmly over.

  “Brilliant,” he said. “Do you think they'd be here so fast if it was a refugee I'd killed?”

  “Louise glanced out the small hallway window and saw the group of army guys approaching the house. Most were armed to the teeth like Rambo in a gun factory. She was flabbergasted at just how many there were.

  “Jesus Christ, David. How many white British people did you kill last night?”

  David glared at Louise, but remained silent. He double backed down his hallway before sprinting up the steep staircase to the first floor of his house. Louise pried herself away from the hallway window and quickly followed him up the stairs.

  David stopped at the very top of the staircase and reached up to the ceiling, where a small hatchway led to the attic. He slid the hatchway to one side before jumping onto the exposed supporting ceiling joists. With great ease, he pulled himself up and into the loft.

  “David?” Louise cried as she watched him disappear into the dark square hole.

  David's face suddenly appeared again. He glanced down at Louise with a stern look. “For fuck’s sake, Louise, just stay put, will you? They're after me, not you. When they find you here, just tell them I picked you up from the docks last night and that's all you know. All right?”

  “But…” Louise protested.

  David had already gone. In the attic, he hurried with great care over the soft and fragile floorboards, towards the other side and the door that led to his neighbour’s house. He kicked and punched his way through the cheap plasterboard and wood that separated his neighbour's loft from his own, then barged his way through the next one, then the next. Finally, he reached the last attic, six houses down from his own.

  David lifted his end neighbour’s attic hatchway. Without hesitation, he jumped onto the first-floor landing. As he jumped onto the carpeted floor, a middle-aged white man emerged from the bathroom, still fastening his trousers. When he saw David standing on his landing, the man screamed with fright. David swiftly put his finger to the man's lips and shushed him hard. He then shoved him back inside the bathroom.

  “Please ... don’t hurt me,” the man cried.


  “Just stay in there and shut the fuck up until I leave,” ordered David.

  Suddenly a hint of recognition swept over the neighbour's face. “Hey! Don’t I know you? Don't you live just a few doors up from me, you filthy swine?”

  David ignored the man and hurried down the stairs towards the front door. He unlocked the latch before slowly opening it just a little way. When he peeked outside, he saw a flurry of soldiers and military policemen all rushing into his house.

  From the first-floor ceiling upstairs, a pair of skinny legs dangled down from the open attic hatchway. David watched, stunned and on guard, as an out-of-breath Louise dropped onto the first-floor landing.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Louise?” David demanded.

  “Following your lead,” Louise replied with a smirk.

  “They’re after me Louise, not you, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I don’t care,” Louise stubbornly replied. “I'm coming with you.”

  “I don’t have time to argue about this shit,” David retorted.

  “Good, because neither do I,” Louise said with great determination. She then hurried down the stairs towards him as the middle-aged man in the bathroom continued watching through a small crack in the doorway. He gave a quick glance up at the open hatchway, half-expecting another pair of dangling legs to come through at any moment.

  “How many more of you are up there?” the man cried out from the bathroom.

  “Shut the fuck up,” David shouted back at him. “And stay in that fucking bathroom.”

  The man quickly closed the bathroom door and bolted it from inside this time. David drilled his eyes into the smug and smiling Louise, who was standing in front of him now. “I don’t fucking believe this,” David cursed, shaking his head.

  Louise ignored his words and took a set of car keys from a rack hanging on the wall beside the front door. “This’ll be our transport out of here, then,” she said with another sly grin.

  David just sighed.

  “Come on,” Louise continued. “Let’s sneak out now while they're still at yours, ripping the place apart.”