Bruiser Crew
They’ve got me surrounded. They’re bound to catch me now. There’s only one route of escape and only a fraction of a chance I can make it back to base without getting caught. I could try to outrun them. Maybe I’ll make it.
Maybe I won’t.
At base I’ll be safe, that’s not the problem. They’re getting closer now, calling my name, telling me all my friends have given up but I know it’s not true.
They’ll be waiting for me. Waiting for me to run the 25 yards back to base.
I’ll have to risk it.
My breathing is heavy; my hearts pounding; my old, mud-caked trainers are pounding the dew-filled grass and finally; my hand hits the cool metal of the lamppost and I shout:
‘Forty-forty in Craig!’ and its over.
I’m panting and leaning on my knees, like my golden Labrador, Mush, does when he sees my mum’s roast beef on the kitchen table on a Saturday afternoon.
As I’m staring at the mud, I notice another pair of trainers next to my beat-up Reebok’s. I know exactly whose they are: my twin brother Ste’s. My eyes rolled up to his smiling face as he pats me on my back. I lifted my head and saw my best friends walking towards me. Robbie, Blair, Jake, and Miranda. There are six of us in all (including me and Ste). We’re pretty hard on our block and don’t usually spend our days playing baby games such as hide-and-seek.
Night is when the real games start. It’s the same everyday, we act really good and sweet, but when darkness falls, the Bruiser Crew comes out to play.
Tonight we’re going to do something we’ve never done before: we’re going to steal our head teacher’s car!
At 09:00, I pulled on my black skater jeans and black Carbrini hoodie and left for the Bruisers crews’ hangout. It’s an old abandoned building, nothing suspicious.
Miranda and Robbie were already here and having a joke over some old dirty magazines they’d found in the field beyond the house. It’s the older kids that leave them, the seventeen and eighteen year old lads. They’re mad and have even tried to rob a bank! We’ve never gone that far. After all, this is only a bit of harmless fun.
‘Ready?’ I asked when everyone had arrived. The bruiser crew nodded.
I led the crew out of the building, adrenalin rushing through me, spurring me on. Together, we marched through the backstreets and, finally, we reached Mr Brake’s house and crouched behind the bushes at the edge of his garden.
I scanned the windows for any movement inside before crawling forward to the car and then made way for Blair to break in.
She smeared the window with mustard, stuck on a brown paper bag and smashed a pipe through the window. There was no sound, no stray shards of glass had cut her and, luckily, no alarm went off.
I climbed in and let everyone else into the backseats. I disabled the brake cables of the car and started the ignition. As the engine revved up, I breathed out a sigh of relief. I quickly drove the car out of the drive and sped down the road. The Bruiser crew cheered and kept begging me to let them have a go next.
I eventually pulled over and let my brother Ste take a turn of the wheel. We switched seats and he turned to me and said ‘I know where to go to have some real fun, you pussies up for it?’
‘Of course we are!’ I yelled and Ste revved up the engine once more.
Ste drove us to the other side of town and eventually pulled up outside an old army hanger.
We never come to this side of town, I was curious as to why Ste had chosen to come here, but just as I was about to ask I spotted a shadowy figure leaving the building. It came closer to the car and I had no idea who he was. I suspected (because of the cigarette in his hand) it was a member of the Marlboro’s, our enemy group.
He came nearer and leant his scarred face into the car. His face came so close to mine I could smell the stale cigarettes on his breath. Why had Ste brought us to our rival gang’s hangout?
‘So, you kids want to have some fun?’ His voice sounded scratchy and painful from all the fibreglass from the cigarettes he smokes.
‘Like what?’ I asked.
‘Like, instead of stealing a bunch of cheap cars, start hurting some people.’
‘Why do we want to hurt people?’
‘Are you trying to tell me there’s no-one you’ve wanted to hurt so bad you could do just about anything to them? No one at all?
I thought about this for a second. So did everyone else.
‘Who are we going to hurt?’ Jake asked.
‘Who else but the guys who are gonna get you busted for stealing that car.’
‘Whose that?’ Miranda wondered.
‘Duh! The coppers!’ the Marlboro chief snorted and pulled his head out of the window. ‘If you kids ain’t up to it, it don’t matter. After all, it’s pretty advanced, even though all I’m asking you to do is stick a bag inside a police station. Not too hard is it?’
I thought about it. It’s not like we could get caught and, if someone did, they would trace it back to the Marlboro’s. Right? Right!
‘I’ll do it!’ I exclaimed.
‘So will I,’ Robbie echoed my opinion and gave me a smile.
The rest of the Bruiser crew agreed and Marlboro smiled.
‘I knew you’d agree. I’ll get the bag. As for the Bruiser crew, you just make sure you drop it off at Mulberry Police Station and then drive far, far away. Considering you have your teacher’s car, he will no doubt get the blame. So, no worries eh?’
I smiled. It sounded so easy and fun. I didn’t realise it would be the biggest mistake of my life.
Outside the police station a last attack of nerves hit me.
Rain pounded against the car window and dripped off to splash onto the tarmac road. Ste and Robbie were inside dropping off the bag.
I saw them hurriedly leave the station, trying not to attract attention to themselves. They jumped in the back and I sped down the road leaving wet tyre tracks in our wake.
Inside the station, officer Brandon walked out of the office and into the waiting room.
‘Anything new sarge?’ he asked the fat police man at reception.
‘Sorry Olly, nothing new I’m afraid. It’s 11:00pm now though so no doubt some sick kids wil be in here in a minute. You know, robbing an off-licence or…’
Officer Brandon was cut off by the explosion, which was broadcasted all over the news the next day. Craig and Ste walked into their living room the next morning to see their mother teary-eyed watching the news reports on the television.
“What is it, mum?” Ste asked, his voice shaky. His mind obviously concentrating on the events of last night, just as mine was.
My mum sniffed, “It’s the police station. It… there was a bomb. They think it was terrorists and they’ve detained a suspect. Unfortunately all the CCTV was destroyed in the blast.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at hearing this. No clues.
“But there was some at the end of the street, so they caught the vehicle driving away. They haven’t confirmed it, but I think it’s the owner of the car who’s been nicked. Apparently it’s a local too, imagine, we’ve got murderers in our neighbourhood. I’ve probably walked past them in the street…” My mother’s words drowned in my ears, drowned out by the word ‘murderer’. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
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