Free Blood Crazy by Simon Clark

ear drums.
    Sarah looked at me with those calm blue eyes. ‘Where are we going?’
    â€˜You’ll see. And don’t say to me … don’t you ever damn well say to me I didn’t warn you.’
    It took seconds to catch up with Tug Slatter. He heard the car but he didn’t look round.
    I drove so that the passenger window would be alongside Slatter. I spat the words. ‘Sarah. Tell him to get in. No, not up front. In the back behind you. Anne, move closer to your sister.’
    Sarah opened the door and asked Slatter to get in. He looked at her for a second then sat in the back. He could have been accepting a lift from his grandma for all the notice he took.
    I roared back down toward the motorway, shooting glances at Slatter in the rear view. He smoked the cigarette, flicking ash onto the seat. He never acknowledged me.
    For a good five minutes we drove like that. A silence so dead you could lay it out in a coffin and bury it.
    In the back seat the two girls stared in awe at Slatter’s tattoos.
    When the cigarette smoke made them cough Sarah opened the window an inch.
    Slatter grunted. ‘Shut it.’
    Sarah glanced at me. I stared ahead like a dummy. She shut the window with a loud sigh.
    We drove on. I could feel the tension building like gas in a beer bottle.
    Two miles to the motorway. I put my foot down. The sooner we got where we were going the better. My neck began to ache.
    Sarah opened the vents on the dash.
    I waited for Slatter to open his ugly mouth.
    The car tyres drummed the cats’ eyes, the speedo rested on fifty, the gauge showed the tank three-quarters full. If the car had been fitted with an occupant stress gauge its needle would have been kissing the red.
    I glanced into the rearview. Slatter was staring at me. When they lock onto you, those eyes punch you in the gut.
    The silence was going to break one way or another, so I decided to be the one to do it. Maybe after all this shit Slatter would be forced to see the world in a new light. Not a planet full of men waiting to be kicked or women waiting to be screwed.
    Without looking back I said, ‘I’m heading south. We’re getting out of the affected area.’
    No reply. Not even a sign he’d heard me. Press on, Nick. I introduced the girls. I told him what had happened to me. Slatter said nothing. I finished off repeating that I reckoned it best to drive south. ‘We should be out of it in a couple of hours.’
    â€˜You’re wasting your time.’ Slatter’s voice was flat.
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Let me drive.’
    â€˜Why on Earth should I?’
    â€˜Because you drive like a girl.’
    â€˜My car. I’m driving. Tug, you said I’m wasting my time driving south. Why’s that? What do you know?’
    â€˜Because it’s like this everywhere. Stupid twat.’
    Sarah and her sisters watched the conversation like spectators at a tennis match, eyes flicking from one man to the other.
    â€˜Slatter, how the hell do you know?’
    â€˜I just do, that’s all.’
    â€˜So, where were you going? You’d have got yourself killed if I hadn’t picked you up.’
    He shrugged, not interested.
    I stopped myself shouting. ‘I’m still driving south – it’s worth a try.’
    â€˜Your time, your petrol, you damn well waste it.’
    â€˜It’s better than going back to Doncaster. Have you seen the place, Tug? Dead people in the streets. It’s full of lunatics waiting to kill you. It’s a mess.’
    â€˜Nothing’s changed much then, has it? It’s always been a bastard dump.’
    â€˜Jesus Christ, Tug, isn’t there anything that worries you?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜You calling me Tug. I don’t like to hear my name come out of the mouth of a faggot.’
    â€˜Shit … I don’t believe you, Slatter. The world’s gone insane; civilization’s just hit