Free The Dirty South by Alex Wheatle

fuck would I know? The pussy would get away. Can’t allow that, man. Burn that. Any of your jackers
has
to be shanked. Simple as.’
    â€˜Yeah, yeah, I get your point. Get me two pieces of breast and fries.’
    Noel seemed to be gone for ages. My eyes were checking out the entrance of the estate and I wondered what I would do if I saw all of my jackers come out from the gloom. Maybe I would just sink lower into my seat and let them pass without them noticing me. Then again, if they did spot me they might want to jack me again. I picked up one of the black metal bars that was under Noel’s seat and placed it on my lap. For some reason I pictured a scene in the film
For A Few Dollars More
. Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleefwere loading their guns and waiting for the moment to settle the shit with the Mexican gang. They both had this impatient look on their faces and now I felt the same. Whatever happens I want to get it over with and go home.
    By the time Noel returned it was dark. The chicken and chips was a sweet relief ’cos I was well hungry and by the time I was licking my fingers, a sister and a brother walked out of the estate. They were both wearing hoodies and tracksuit bottoms.
    â€˜Dennis! Dennis!’ Noel called. ‘Ain’t that the bitch Ann?’
    It was her. I recognised her walk instantly. She was laughing and joking with this guy… He looked like one of my attackers, the oldest one of the crew. He had those wide-faced Nigerian features. He was the one who said, ‘Peel him!’ I’ll never forget those two little words.
Burn him!
    â€˜Is it the bitch yes or no?’ Noel raised his voice.
    â€˜Yeah, that’s her, bruv.’
    Before I had time to compose myself, Noel had leaped out of the car. I quickly followed him. Ann and this guy looked behind. I soon caught up with Noel ’cos I was always the quickest runner. Ann and the Nigerian ran back into the estate but we was only ten yards behind them. Ann couldn’t run too good in her thick-soled trainers. She was frantic. Desperate. I went by her, wanting to get to the Nigerian. He glanced over his left shoulder in panic. Then he looked over his right shoulder. I was closing on him. My adrenaline was pumping. I heard a scream behind me. ‘
No! Please, no no!
’
    I didn’t look behind. I knew Noel would beat the shit out of her ’cos he didn’t give a shit whether she was a girl or not. Noel’s like that. The Nigerian made the mistake of looking behind to see what was happening to Ann. I latched onto him with my left hand and I clubbed him on the back of the head with the black metal bar with my right. He fell down face first into the concrete, scraping his cheeks. With a rush of excitement I hit him again on the head and heard this muffled whimper. ‘Fuck with a Brixtonian, would you? You piece of African shit!’
    I rolled him onto his back and his nose was pouring out blood. He had cuts and grazes in his face and his eyes were rolling in hishead. He didn’t know where the fuck he was. His mouth stank of some spicy African food he had just ate. Before I went through his pockets I banged him in the crotch. His knees went up in a reflex reaction and caught me in the jaw. I blammed him again upon the forehead with the metal bar. When he was still I claimed his mobile and his wallet. I even took his weekly Travelcard. I then booted him in the head. Satisfied, I then backed away. ‘Come on!’ screamed Noel. ‘Come on!’
    Walking slowly backwards, I looked at my victim writhing in agony. I wondered if he went shopping with his granny and if he massaged his granny’s shoulders after she completed the washing-up. Would he be the kind of grandson to take out the rubbish for her? No, burn that notion. I couldn’t picture it and that made me feel better. I bet he won’t try and honey-trap a Brixtonian in a hurry. I stepped by Ann and she was out cold