It Happens at Night 13: Time To Go Digging...

'Well personally I think it went rather well?' said Uncle Lucien.

  Freddy explained that he did not know what his uncle was talking about.

  'Mr McGregor's funeral,' Lucien went on.  'Marvellous resplendent affair!'

  'You are talking rubbish!  It was just an average funeral,' said Freddy miserably.  'We handled it like we were meant too, like professionals.  It was business.'

  'But don't you still feel that it was all a rather cozy affair?'

  'In what way was any of it cozy?  People were crying.  People were upset.  I still don't understand your angle?'

  'What I mean is nothing real bad went wrong,' Lucien explained.  'I mean men with guns didn't turn up. There wasn't a shoot-out.  I mean that could have happened.  It was Mr McGregor after all, old war hero, one of the Kings, enemies with the Irish, friends with the Kings.  New York turned up as well.  That fellow who leads them had the temerity to start talking about how good he was at playing pool?  I thought to myself "How dreadfully selfish - talking about your hobbies during a funeral!"  What kind of a man does such a thing?'

  'That is L.A Thinns.  That is just how he talks in general, no matter the occasion.  I was there one evening when we were all locked in a nasty confrontation with the gangs, facing death itself, and all Thinns could do was compare the situation to a game of pool.  He is obsessed.  We just have to go along with it.'

  'But still I say, how rude, obsessed or not.  Obsessions are the possessions of the obsessed, and the obsessed deserve to be oppressed even by an atom of reserve, to help preserve the peace that all funerals deserve.  I know McGregor was an old sot who talked about the war all of the time, I know it is impressive to be a freedom fighter at the age of six, but still he did go on, no wonder that his pub was so drafty and empty of cheer, nobody wanted to drink his beer, or go anywhere near a man who waffles O how so drear!  I couldn't stand standing in the place.  Did he ever tell you that story when he stabbed a German soldier for trying to steal his grandfathers beer?'

  'O yes!  I have heard all of the stories,' Freddy replied drearily, and then he added, just as drearily, 'And I will not be hearing them ever again!'

  'You sound sad about it?

  'Because I am sad about it.  McGregor was a friend,' said Freddy.  'He looked after me when I was down!  When I was truly down he was there for me.  I was out in the streets, homeless as a streetwise fox.  I didn't even have a box, to cover my head against the dreaded roof of the night.  I was on the cobbles all cold, miserable and not even that old, but I felt like my grandfather did when he moaned about the damp sleeping in his limbs!  It is a hard thing, some might even say a strange thing, to find a good friend these days Lucien.  Friends are a rare commodity, as rare as daisies in a desert.  There is no one left to trust.  My mother and my father threw me out.  My business partners turned their backs on me...'

  'Isn't that because you stole money from them for that printer business that failed?' said Uncle Lucien unhelpfully.

  'I did not steal the money!  Those people invested in the business on their own free will!'

  'Whatever you say, Freddy.  Carry on with your sad story.  There is enough room able to stable in my heavy and depressed heart the wearies of another upstart.  Finish your story good man.'

  'Mr McGregor was a good friend indeed and I want have anyone speak bad about him,' Freddy continued in his depressed voice.  'Very good man indeed I say indeed a very fine man indeed.  He put a roof over my head.  Gave me something to eat.  It is the least a human being can do to another human being, but finding the least these days in the streets is usually the last thing you will find.'

  'How did you end up homeless again?' said Uncle Lucien wistfully.  It was beginning to sound like to Freddy that his uncle was enjoying hearing about his suffering.

  'It was after my wife, Bolly, threw me out of the flat!'

  'Ah yes!  Precious Bolly.  What a fine and fair lady.  Heard from her lately?'

  'She refuses to talk to me,' Freddy answered drearily.  'I tried knocking on her door the other day and she just slapped me round the face.  I saw her in the streets but a mere week ago and I said hello, and she spat at my feet.  I still love her, you know?  But she still talks to me like I am some kind of an old dog with an affliction.'

  'Didn't she used to attack you?'

  'O yes!  Regularly.  Whenever she was drunk boy did I ever know it!  She used to get that glove of hers with claws on it.  She used to cut me threw the skin, used to terrify me whenever she had a drink.  Gin was her muse, she used to neck bottles of it like an old sailor in the war days.  She would have fitted in quite well with the sailors from the old days, but then these days, the precious year 2025, anyone can be a sailor even me I imagine?'

  'Most of the old sailors didn't have a choice but to be sailors,' Lucian replied grimly.  'That was what all that press-ganging business was all about.  The government would grab all of those urchins off of the street and put them to sea, to drown somewhere in the deep depths - to be kidnapped by pirates, or be grabbed and strung up from the mast by the Spanish or by the French.  Sad business being a sailor of the seas.  I am glad I never got involved with anything like that.  But that was always my skill, not getting involved.  For so long as I have been alive I have never gotten involved with a single thing, and I think that is a rather fine thing, something that needs to be drunk in after a little thinking.  What say you?'

  'Not yet.  Maybe in a minute,' said Freddy wearily and drearily.  'No amount of alcohol can heal my wounds.  My wounds are of the spiritual kind.  I just can't stop thinking about my beloved and dear Bolly.  I would do anything to see her again.  I need to get my family back!  I cannot live like this on my own all of the time.  Do you know what she did to me the last time I talked to her?  She beat me, smashed an empty gin bottle over my crown, beat me down, and then slashed me with the claw...'

  'Ah!  The fairer sex!' said Lucien.  'You can't live with them and you can't live without them.  Not that I am speaking from personal experience, of course.  I have spent my whole life alone and I am proud of it.  I have no idea what it is like living with a woman.  But I do know what it is like living with spiders.  And these days ants as well!'

  'Ants?  What are you talking about now?'

  'Well there is a whole massive gang of them brooding and scurrying and breeding in the corner of the shed where I live.  I like having them there!  Gives me a sense of power I never thought I would ever have...'

  'I don't know what you are talking about.  Power?  I might regret asking this but can you explain what you mean by having power over ants?'

  Uncle Lucien cleared his throat and said this:

  'Every ant colony is a little nation of bodies living and working for its mighty queen.  They live in my home at my leisure.  I have a tin of oil in the corner, all I need to do is add a tiny drop of that into their nest that and a tiny whisper of a flame and up goes the whole colony!  Ants no more!  That is power Mr Freddy!  Those ants maintain a vast and bustling empire in and under the cracks of my wall, but one wistful decision on my behalf, one moment of gloom with me in a bad mood and I could wipe them out forever!  I have the power and the wrath of a God over those ants.  And I love the feeling that gives me!'

  'Yes.  I can tell you live alone, Uncle Lucien,' Freddy replied.  'Madness and loneliness are well known bedfellows.

  It was time to have a drink.

  'It is the G-Juice for me these days,' said Lucien.  'It used to be whiskey but I am done with that stuff.  No more hangovers for this old man.  Our friendship with the Kings has proven to be quite profitable in more ways than one - not just the money but drinks in a glass!  With that family in our pocket we have G-Juice on tap forevermore!'

  'The Kings have been good to us, I will agree with you on that.  But they are certainly not in our pocket.  No sir.  It is the other way round I assure you!  We need to work hard and keep our heads down.  They are a very dangerous family!  The moment they find that out they no longer need us then things will get bad.  And then it will be back to our grave robbing ways and they are days I do not want to ever see again!'

  'We need to keep on keeping them sweet...'

  'Now that is easier said than done, Uncle.  Right now I am taking what I can get and going along with things.  Right now I don't have a plan.  I am just cruising...  cruising!'

  'I have a plan!'

  'Of course!  Whenever do ever never have one?  You might as well tell me what it is then.  You are going to tell me anyway of course...'

  'As long as people are dying they are going to need burying.  And we are tucked up here in this nice little business burying a certain breed of dead people...  We are burying victims of a war!  So all that we need to do is keep the war going, and going, and going, till at least one of us dies or is finally arrested.  We do everything that we can to keep the fighting going in the streets!'

  'You are serious about this, aren't you?  Your morality was always as bent as a dying and broken tree rotting in a stream!  But now I am beginning to think you might actually be evil after all!'

  'Shades of grey!'

  'Rubbish!  There is evil in the world.  I know.  I have seen it before and I am seeing it now!  I am hearing it talk out of your lips!'

  'Not evil.  Survival, Freddy.  We are survivors surviving.  Survivors need to survive, and so we take on any opportunity that might arrive, and we have arrived upon quite the opportunity, Freddy, one that we might not get again.  A treasure has fallen in our lap!  We must treasure it with every beat our hearts have left to give us.'

  Just then, and totally without any forewarning, Mr Vincent King came rolling into the building on his wheelchair.  He did not say hello.  But he did say this:

  'There is a name of a man written on this card,' and he planted the card down on the table.  'He is currently resting in a grave of yours.  Dig him up and bring him back to our place.  We need the body this afternoon.'

  Freddy managed to find the guts to ask what the hurry was all about.

  'We are getting a visit from Dr Vistogg.  A friend of the family,' said Vincent.  'He is helping me with my problem.'

  'Ah!  I am assuming you are referring to your anger issues, right?'

  'NO!  Idiot!  If you haven't already noticed, cloth ears, I am dead from the waist down!  And one day too soon I might be dead from the waist up as well!  I was born with Homo Rotis.  He is working on a cure, but he needs samples taken from bodies of men who have already died from the disease.  This man named on this paper died from the disease.  And I need him to help me to not die from the disease.  So get to work!  Snap snap chaps!'

  

Freddy and his uncle were standing next to the grave, shovels at hand and they were both feeling very awkward.

  'So we are supposed to dig this body up in broad daylight and get away with it?' said Freddy.

  'We have to do it!  Survival, Freddy, remember survival!  Survival is the key!'

  Freddy let out a curse or two and then got to work digging.  

  They dug and dug until they finally revealed the coffin under the soggy clay and then they cracked the thing open.  O my!  No words can describe the horrible stench that flowed out!

  But they had to do what they had to do.

  'How are we supposed to get this putrefying thing to the King's place?' said Freddy.

  He asked his uncle if he had any ideas.  

  'We can do it,' said Uncle Lucien.  'Here look.  I have got some cotton wool sticking out of my coat.  I will stick this wool in his cheeks like this and there look!  He looks a little bit more alive now!'

  'No!  Uncle!  He still looks as a dead as a man who has been dead and buried for little less than a week!  We cannot carry this thing about in this state!'

  'We have no choice in the matter Freddy,' said Uncle Lucien.  'Now you grab one shoulder and I the other.  If anyone asks we just tell them that we are taking our poor grandfather to hospital for a check up!'

  So off the two men went, propping up the dead corpse between them, walking quickly through the streets for all to see.

  Luckily most people had the common sense to just ignore or walk away form the two corpse bearing madmen, but there was one stranger who approached, an elderly gentleman who thought that he recognised the corpse they were carrying.

  'That looks like my old mate Billy,' said the gentleman.

  'Everyone says that,' said Lucien.  'This is Ted, my grandfather.  We are taking him right now to the hospital.  He has gotten himself a cold, bless him!  He needs taking care of right away so if you don't mind...'

  'He needs a box in he ground that is what he needs,' said the gentleman, adjusting his coat he stalked away with nothing else to say.

  Moments later Freddy and Uncle Lucien were finally within reach of the King place.

  The garage opened up to let them in.

  'Excellent work!' said Vincent rolling up to them on his wheelchair.  'You two lads are doing good work right now!  Now let me introduce you to my Doctor, Mr Vistogg.'

  Now Mr Vistogg was a character indeed!  Mr Vistogg looked less like a doctor and more like a man wearing a mad scientist costume made specifically to fit in with a Halloween party for fun.  The beard, the crazy hair, it all looked perfectly fake. And he was wearing a white laboratory coat that looked like some cheap-knock off purchased second-hand from a memorabilia store.  'I will take the body now and then I will begin the work,' he said.  'With enough samples I may be able to find a cure...'

  Freddy heard this and thought:

  O gosh?  O golly gosh!  He doesn't mean to suggest that we might have to do this all over again with another hapless corpse?  O please anything but that!

  'Good work lads!' said Mr Vincent.  'We will be talking like this again.  Keep your shovels ready lads!'

  Freddy and Uncle Lucien returned home feeling equal amounts of pure unadulterated unfiltered depression.

  What had they gotten themselves into?

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

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THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens At Night 12: Shovels at the ready!

Freddy was invited around the Kings place where drinks had been drawn up, and there was a good feeling in the air.  There appeared to something of a party going on and the Kings had invited guests over including a certain Mr Wuan - who Freddy had not seen in a while.  In fact Freddy had quite forgotten that Mr Wuan ever existed!  

  Wuan had brought over a couple of bottles of wine and was showing them off to everybody who cared.  'I enjoy collecting these,' he said.  He was showing the wine bottles of one after the other.  And when he was done doing that he got everyone onto the topic of whiskey.

  'Now this is a subject I am deeply interested in,' spoke up Frank.  'I love whiskey - drinking it that is!  But go on, Mr Wuan.  I am finding this topic very fascinating!  You know so much about spirits and it is just wonderful to listen to!'

  'Thank you Mr King,' Wuan replied pleasantly.  'Now let us talk about whiskey.  You have your Irish whiskeys and your Scotch and the Bourbon of course, but for me you cannot beat a good little bottle of cockney!'

  'Ah yes!' Mr King returned with a sparkle in his eye.  'We all like a bit of Pony and Trap in this family!'

  'A fine choice of drink,' said Wuan.  'Do you know what makes cockney spirits so special?  They use corks in their bottles.  It is the only corked whiskey in the world!'

  'That doesn't make sense?' said Frank.  'I thought corks spoilt spirits, made the drink taste of cardboard?'

  'A legend I am going to prove wrong today,' Wuan replied.  Wuan uncorked his bottle of cockney and poured his friends a little of it.  'Taste the goodness of that!'

  'My gosh!  That truly is a Pony and Trap!' said Frank with amazement.  'Maybe the best one I have ever had!'

  'I am glad you enjoyed it.  Now let me show you something very special!  Take a look at this beauty!  Maybe the best in my collection!'  That was when Wuan brought out a box.  Opening it showed a bottle within filled to the brim with a pretty looking purple liquid.  What was this?  It was not wine, Wuan assured them.  This drink was something far better than that!

  The Kings knew what the drink was!  Why this was here business!  When Frank saw that bottle for the first time he shot up in surprise and beside him his fat little brother Vincent almost fell out of his wheelchair!  

  'Purple G-Juice!' Frank exclaimed.  'But there is said to have only ever been three of these ever made?'

  'And I have one of them!' Wuan replied in a jolly voice.  'And I want you to have it, Mr King!  It is a gift to honour our friendship!'

  'Why this is a very fine gift,' said Frank shaking his head with amazement.  'You and I are going to be good friends, Mr Wuan.  I might be interested in putting some business your way someday?'

  'I would be delighted to do business with the Kings,' said Wuan.

  Frank took the purple bottle out of the box and placed it on one of his mantelpieces.  'I shall treasure this,' he said.

  'So what is so special about the purple G-Juice?' said Freddy.  He was honestly interested to know more about it.

  'You deserve a good hard punch in the face saying something so stupid!' said Frank angrily.  The great man did not appreciate Freddy's ignorance!

  Freddy backed down.

  'Okay.  I am sorry...I was only interested.  This business is new to me that's all,' said Freddy in a weak and wobbly voice.

  'It is said that the purple stuff gives you the best high,' Vincent explained.  'Those who drink from the purple juice are said to receive visions at night, and awake the next day reborn with genius capabilities.  I knew a homeless illiterate man who drank some of the purple stuff once.  He woke up the next day a gifted philosopher and programming mastermind.  There is a rumour going about that he helped develop the iPhone, changing the world forever.'

  'Good lord!' Freddy exclaimed.

  It was unbelievable!

  'They stopped distilling the stuff in the early two thousands when scientists finally realised its potency,' Frank took over the story.  'They figured out together that a world full of geniuses might be a dangerous place, they might end up building a bomb or something and so the purple drink was banned globally and universally.'

  'Why universally?'

  'It was a safety measure to ensure nobody tried distilling the drink on the moon.

  'The moon?' and Freddy burst into laughter on hearing this because he thought Frank was only joking.

  It turned out that Frank was not joking...

  'Don't laugh about things like that or I really will have to slap you down!' bellowed Frank.  As he threatened Freddy he started clicking his knuckles.  Frank had a bit of a bad temper about him, and Freddy was going to have to choose his words carefully when in the presence of the great man.

  As Frank and his brother Vincent started necking some more whiskey, Wuan took Freddy into a separate room.  He needed a word with him in private.

  'Have you thought anymore about the offer I made you?' said Wuan.  'Look at you!  You are right in the Kings throne room!  You have their ear and access to their resources...'

  'What do you want me to do?'

  'The kings are always holding fancy parties like this on the weekends, drinking whiskeys and wines.  When the parties are over I want you to collect and bring to me all of the empty bottles and the corks as well!  I have got a plan and I know it will work.  I am going to make a lot of money out of the Kings, but I cannot do it without your help.  I have the tools but I do not have access to the materials.  But you do, Freddy.  So what say you?  Will you  help me.  Will you be my business partner?'

  'I can't betray the kings.  They are taking care of me,' Freddy replied humbly.

  'You won't be betraying them, Freddy!  It is just a couple of empty bottles!  Bring them to me!  Think about it.  I will make it worth your while.  When you have made up your mind you know where to find me, in the shop across the road from where you delightful uncle lives.'

  'I know where to find you,' said Freddy.  'Let me see how things go.  Right now things are good for me.  I don't want to mess everything up.  But who knows?  Maybe life will change, it always does.  And if it does, then you might find me on your door with a couple of empty bottles at the ready.'

  Wuan was delighted!

  'Marvellous!' he said, and with that the little polite man left the building.

  

  After Freddy was good and drunk on whiskey he collapsed onto one of the sofas and fell asleep.

  When he woke up all the guests were gone, and there was nothing but empty glass on the tables and the smell of cigarette smoke and rye dominated the air.

  Freddy had drunken too much and he felt utterly disgusting.

  Hopefully the Kings will let me sleep on their sofa for the rest of the day!

  As Freddy was about to drop back into sleep Frank King himself turned up and asked if Freddy could follow him.  He gave Freddy a full glass of whiskey saying, 'Hair of the dog and all that.  I need you to have your wits about you, Freddy!  We are going to have a very serious talk today you and I.'

  Sounded ominous!

  What was going to happen now?

  Freddy gulped the whiskey down to calm his nerves.  He was frightened something nasty was going to happen.  Something nasty was always happening in his life!  Maybe Frank's psychotic little brother had killed someone?  "Anything could be going on!  The world is just so mad these days!" thought Freddy.

  Frank led Freddy down into one of the rooms hidden in the lower portions of the tower-block.  

  'There is something in this room I want you to see,' said Frank.  'The door is unlocked.  I want you to open it and go in first.'

  'I am afraid Frank!'

  'Good.  Fear keeps a man sharp!'

  'It doesn't keep this man sharp.  Fear just makes me all wobbly and useless!'

  'Listen to me, Freddy.  I know everything about you.  I did not get to where I am today by being an idiot!  I have done my research and I know that you are not an accountant!  You are a grave digger!  Now normally I would hand a creep like you over to the police.  But strangely enough at this very moment I have need of a man with your certain talents!' said Frank.

  'I don't understand you?'

  'Open the door and you will,' said Frank.

  And so Freddy did it.

  He opened the door and went in.

  Inside the room there was a full dead body splayed out over a table!

  (NOTE:  "WHY was Freddy not shocked or even mildly surprised to see a dead body?????  Because he is (or was) a grave digger!")

  After a look or two Freddy started to recognise the corpse...

  It was the young man he had seen the other day - it was Jack!  So the Kings had the man killed him after all!

  Realising that he was in bed with murderers Freddy's conscious left him with no other choice other than to simply collapse into a huddle on the floor!  It took another good sized gulp of whiskey to revive him and get him back up in his feet again!

  'We had to kill him,' said Frank in a casual way.  'We are at war!  The King empire is a war machine.  One loose cog in that machine and the whole thing comes tumbling down.  Jack was that loose cog.  People die on the streets of Fenwick every day it is just the sad way of things in this unhappy town.  The gangs slaughter their enemies.  We have to show strength or they will slaughter us instead.  This idiot dead on the table here let loose our secrets in the middle of a party!  I cannot allow this to go unchecked!  Any of our enemies could have been listening in at the time.  The Irish and the Brazilians have their agents positioned everywhere!  Jack knew too much about our operation.  If the man could have found a way to manage his tongue more correctly he would be standing right now.  But he could not do that, so he had to pay.  It was the only way.  That is how the wars go in Fenwick, Freddy.  So I say this is a nasty town.  We have to fight every day to stay alive.'

  'All right.  So you killed him.  Fine.  But what do you want me to do about it?  Why show me this?  I don't understand your angle?'

  'You dig up bodies, right?  Well now I want you to bury them!  You take care of me, Freddy and I will take care of you,' said Frank.  'Now this is the plan and it is all setup ready to go all you have to do is say yes and keep your head down and stay quiet. Got it?  Good!  Now listen to this.  I am going to set you up with your own funeral service business!  That's right!  You are going to be a professional undertaker.  It has all been taken care of.  I bought a new property the other day.  You are going to setup shop there.  Get yourself a new clean suit.  A clean one not that dirty thing you are wearing now!  There is a flat at the top of the office where you will work.  That is where you are going to live from now on.  Here is a new phone take it.  When it rings you answer it right away no messing about.  Keep the phone on you at all times!  It will be me letting you know I am sending some business your way.  When everything is set and you are ready to take action I want you to find a nice place to bury our boy Jack here.  You need to buckle up, Freddy.  There is a war going on and you are going to be up to your neck in business, if you understand my meaning?  So what do you say?  Are you ready to work with me?'

  Freddy was terrified!  He was stuck in a nasty mess.  The Kings were violent bloody men and he didn't know how he ever ended up being mixed in with them.  Part of Freddy screamed NO inside of his head.  This is wrong.  This is bad.  This is evil!

  But Freddy was weak and he liked the idea of running his own business and making some money for a change.

  So he shook Franks hand.  'I will do it,' he said.

  'You will need help,' said Frank.

  'Of course,' Freddy replied.

  Frank introduced Freddy to his help.

  It was none other than his crafty and wily Uncle Lucien!

  Now how did that devil end up getting involved with the Kings?

  Something deeply disturbing was going on and Freddy felt like he was standing on the tip of a massive iceberg known as bergy strange!

  'You need to explain yourself!' said Freddy angrily to his uncle.

  Frank stepped up between them and told Freddy to calm down.  'I hired Lucien because you already have a business relationship with this man,' said Frank.  'I know you two worked together in the grave digging business and I thought he was the best partner to help you in the work ahead.  You need to work with someone who you know and who you can trust!'

  'I don't know if I trust this man,' said Freddy coldly.

  'Don't be foolish!  He is your uncle,' said Frank.

  'That's what worries me...'

  Freddy was ready to start a good long argument with his uncle, but unfortunately he would not be given the chance.

  Something dramatic happened out of nowhere!

  Vincent came wheeling in from out of nowhere - he looked hot and bothered and had a dark look in his eyes.

  This is what he said:

  'The Brazilians launched an attack this morning!  They burned the Scotch pub down!  McGregor has been killed!'

  When Frank heard this dreadful news you could tell that he was mad and sad, but he did not say anything right away.  He just stood there, clenching his fists.  

  'Something has to be done about this,' said Vincent.  'We can't let them go about killing our boys!  McGregor was a war hero!  He was blood - A King!  Justice demands that we avenge him right here and right now.  I have got a gun.  I will take it with me.  I will ride out and slaughter them all!  I will find Corta Almoço and I will slay him with my own hands.  I will maw him like a dog!  I will run him over with my wheelchair!  Just let me have at him!  Tarnations!  We cannot stand for this - I mean I can't stand literally I am dead from the waste down but you know what I mean?'

  'I know what you mean,' said Frank who was trying to stay calm in the situation.  'And you are right, little brother.  We must avenge McGregor, and we will.  This war used to be about business.  Now it is personal.  Let us go to the office and make plans.'

  'Yes.  I will phone the Italians.  We need all the muscle we can get,' said Vincent.

  'Do it.  Our enemies burn down our pub and so we will burn down their homes.  They will not win this,' said Frank menacingly.  

  Then Frank turned to Freddy.

  He had instructions for the weak and wobbly man.

  'While I am fighting the war I need you to start on the funeral business,' he told him.  'I need you to bury this dead man Jack.  Do it now before he starts to smell.  Be happy, Freddy!  This war is going to be bad for a lot of people, but not for you!  This war is going to make you rich!'

  

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

===========================================================

Also take a look at:

My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
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My Books

THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens At Night 11: Road Of Fury

Freddy was in the middle of a nightmare and worst of all he was very much awake and still very much alive...

  I don't won't to die not yet!  I don't want to give uncle Lucien the opportunity to bury me and dig me back up again!  I can hear him gloating now the dusty old spider that he is!

  'I would appreciate it so much if you took the time to tell me exactly where we are going,' said Freddy to the man sitting beside him.  Freddy was beyond terrified at that time as he and his mad companion went speeding down the road.  The only good thing to come from the experience was Freddy's rapid loss of weight through all the sweating he was doing at the time.

  'I am not saying anything about that!  You will see what you need to see very soon!' Vincent replied in a voice that can be described as ominous.  'We are on the mission, Freddy,' the half dead man continued.  'People see me and Frank in the streets and they want to get us.  They think we are easy targets: my brother -  respectable business and family man - and then you have me a man fully dead from the waist down and our enemies look at us and think like this, "let us get those fools!"  Well today we are going to show them the truth of it.  The Kings are NOT a family to be messed about with!'

  'Why would people want to mess about with you and your brother?' said Freddy.

  'Because we are rich!  What a stupid damn thing to ask!  There are loads of reasons why poor people would want to mess with us.  Our business is legit, our wealth is stored in vaults of refined and beloved G-Juice.  The brewery is booming and easy to find.  If a gang wants to target the place all they have to do is break in and steal the goods.  Our enemies have contacts operating underground who they can use to fence their gains.  We have been attacked before...  Back then we let the police deal with it.  Nothing happened.  So now I am dealing with it.  No one steals from us Kings!'

  'Why did they attack McGregor?' 

  'Collateral.  They want to prove they can hurt our family on a personal level.'

  'Damn!'

  'We are going to stop at the Brewery first.  We need to make sure everything is in order before we head into enemy territory.  When in battle, Freddy, an army must always protect its rear!'

  'But...   We are not an army...'

  'O yes we are, Freddy boy,' Vincent replied with an evil grin.  'And you are going to see how much of an army we are really soon my lad!  We are going on an and adventure and you are going to LOVE it!'

  DAMN!

  So there was the brewery.  Looking good!  Time to move on...

  Next stop: the Irish Bar.

  Mr Macleod is going to love this!

  'Knock out one of those bottles Freddy!'

  Vincent was giving the orders and it was Freddy's job just to obey.  Freddy's hands shook as they started fumbling about with the bottles.  The thought of one of them exploding made Freddy want to disappear into a cloud!  It was a horrible business!  And the more he fumbled the more Vincent cursed at him!

  Come on Freddy boy get moving with those damn bottles!

  Vincent was not a patient man, absolutely not, and he wanted the job done quick and clean.  He wanted to deliver a massive blow to the enemy.  He told Freddy he wanted to bring a storm, adding menacingly, 'I am going to finish them all off once and for all!'

  Freddy popped a bottle into Vincents left hand and sliding it over to his right Vincent sliced the thing on light with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth and casually tossed the flaming thing in the direction of the bar across the road from them.

  Fetch us another bottle Freddy.  The job is not quite finished yet...

  Too terrified to do anything else he slipped Mr Vincent King another bottle.

  This second bottle crashed through the front window of the bar and got the whole place ablaze!  Men started to run out of the building.  You could see the shadows of them in or against the flames.  

  That was when Vincent did something so incredibly outrageous that Freddy simply could not believe it.  

  Vincent drew a gun out of the dashboard and aimed it at the running men and started shooting at them!

  Freddy saw at least one of them dropped down on the ground!

  'I don't know if we should really be doing this,' said Freddy in a weak and wobbly voice but the poor man was stammering and shaking for damn good reason!  He was now possibly an accomplice to murder!

  But the nightmare was not over yet.

  Mr Vincent King still had plenty more he wanted to do.

  'Buckle up son!' he said to Freddy.  'The ride is far from done!'

  Next stop:

  The Coffee Shop.

  'This is Brazilian territory,' Vincent explained.  'Toss another bottle over Freddy.  You are about to witness the shortest war in human history.  In the future this day will be forever remembered in Fenwick history as the one hour war.  The war where Mr King gave his enemies a nasty sting!  A war where our family beat them all in one day!  Ah!  Look at that Freddy...  that shop is burning nicely.  Now let us drive.  Next stop:  The Corner Shop!  Time to light her up!'

  'Can I say something you might not like to hear, Mr Vincent?  Should we really be doing this?  I mean, well, aren't the Brazilians going to be super angry that we are burning their properties down?' said Freddy in his usual wet and defeated voice.

  Vincent replied with a smirk.

  Toss us another bottle Freddy boy...

  Before long the Corner Shop was fully and freely ablaze with a terrible and violent series of flames - glass was cracking and wood popping.  The smoke was dark and started to spread until the whole street was choking in it.

  The war is over.  There is no coming back not for them...

  'Now I am turning around but our business is not yet done.  I called one of our people just then and we need to head out and pick them up, so hold on Freddy!  We are on the last leg of our journey - the last leg of the road!  But not my leg - that darn thing hasn't been able to move not from the day I was born.'

  At the end of the road there was a young chap, maybe in his early twenties, waiting for them.  

  'This is our mate, Jack,' said Freddy.  'Open the door for him!'

  Jack slipped into the back seat.

  'I got your call.  What's up Mr King?' said Jack.

  Vincent hurled his upper bulk around and then pointed his gun at Jack.

  Looking down at that barrel made Jack panic - his hand started reaching out to open the door.

  That was when Vincent cocked the gun:
  'Open that door and I will pull the trigger,' said Vincent.  'Now settle down!'

  'How can I settle when you have that damn thing pointing right at me!' said Jack.  'Put the gun away and we can talk!'

  'I give the orders, Jack, and the gun stays raised do you hear me?'

  'Yes...  Mr King, sir...'

  'Good.  It is nice to finally hear you speaking with some respect to me.  You have a been a little cocky of late, Jack, and I am not happy about it.  Neither is the bossman.  Don't forget something, we scooped you out of the bottom of a dirty barrel.  You were nothing before we found you.  Your life was spiralling.  You were facing homelessness.  Mother with a heart of gold took pity on you, and so my brother and I gave you a job and all we wanted in return was appreciation.  So it upsets my brother and I when we hear stories about you wasting our money on nightclubs and flexing your connection to the Kings with your friends.  You are supposed to working for us as an undercover operative, you stupid twat!  You are meant to be our ears and eyes on the street.  You were supposed to tell people you work in a shop!  You don't tell random and possibly dangerous people in a nightclub that you are a spy working for the biggest family in town.  What is wrong with you?  Do you have a dishcloth between your ears?  You idiot!  I should set the lads on you, but big brother Frank wants you gone quick and quiet.  Hence the gun!'

  'Please don't kill me Mr King!  I am young!  I am stupid.  I messed up...'

  'Shut up Jack!  You have had your chance with us.  You were supposed to our informant, keep your ears and eyes open.  And what happens?  The Irish launch a sneak attack on our territory, hurt one of our people my own uncle!  If you had been doing your job properly you would have tipped us off about the attack.  We told you to watch the Irish!  But no!  You were too busy getting drunk and spilling your guts about how you are going to be the next James Bond!  Bloody idiot!  I am going to have to shoot you Jack!'

  'Mr King!  I am an idiot I admit it!  I get it!  I get the rules.  I messed up.  You gave me a job todo and I got excited and I lost control of my tongue!  Just give me another chance, please!  You can't kill me, Vincent mate!  You can't just kill a man out in public like this!  You won't get away with it not even in Fenwick.  Break my legs!  Anything, just don't kill me!'

  'You have to die boy...'

  'Just give me another chance.  I promise I won't mess up next time...  I want to prove myself to you.  I want to work for the Kings!'

  'That won't be happening again.  You are fired from the job and fired from life...'

  'Okay Mr King!  Sack me.  But let me keep my life.  I will run away...  I will go back to England.  I will not talk about this I swear.  Just let me go I beg of you!'

  'Right.  Fine.  I have heard you out.  Now run!'

  Jack got out of the car and bolted away like a madman drunk on G-Juice!

  At the time Freddy wished he could do the same thing...

  'So ends another hard day at work hey Freddy boy?' said Vincent.

  To Freddy's insane relief Mr Vincent King put the gun away.

  'The best way to commit a crime is to do it publicly and right in peoples faces,' Vincent explained.  'Those fools who sneak about they always get caught by the cops in the end.  But those guys who have the guts to act like madmen in the streets with all eyes open on them they always get away with it!  There are two reasons for this.  One:  People can't believe what they are seeing so they chose to believe they just imagined it.  Two:  The cops are too afraid to tackle us madmen!  You see, Freddy, it is like this:  A criminal who sneaks about is a coward.  The cops love a good coward.  On the other hand a criminal who fights in the streets with his naked fists covered in blood then well the cops will look at one another and they will be like this - "I ain't getting involved with that!"  Those are rules of the world Freddy boy!  Now the work is done and the day is over let's go for a nice cozy drive around town!  Buckle up boy!'

  And then Vincent fired the engines into action and took them both down the road at 60 mph.

  When Freddy finally managed to escape the dreaded car he had to go for a slow gentle walk just to make sure that his legs were still working.  

  As he was walking down the street he bumped into a horrible but sadly familiar face.

  It was his creepy creeping uncle Lucien!

  'This is just like you isn't it uncle?  Sneaking about in the shadows.  You are more of a ghost than a man!'  said Freddy.  'If you told me that you were dead I would fully believe that you were!'

  'You need to come back to me Freddy,' said Lucien.  'You do not need a job!  There is plenty of money out there in the fields - below the ground.  There is wealth buried in the dark places of the earth...  You and I can dig it all up and live a good comfortable life!  Join me, Freddy.  We were a good team!  O if you only knew what I knew!  I know a stiff who has been buried with a two thousand pound bracelet!  Think about it, Freddy.  We can split the profits fifty fifty!'

  'This is the last time I am going to tell you that I am not interested!'  Freddy returned angrily.  'Now do not speak to me again.  I don't know why I bother with you uncle!  You are a bloody weirdo!'

  Uncle Lucien took the insult with a shrug and a sneer.

  'You are a silly fool,' Lucien replied.  'A fool who is born a fool will die a fool!  I can smell your demise arriving on the air.  I see things from my little shed window at nighttime - the old ghost is watching and she wants revenge on those her murdered her...'

  'Uncle!  Is that supposed to be a threat?  I haven't murdered anybody!' said Freddy.  'There is no ghost seeking me out for revenge.  You are going to have to find better ways of scaring me if that is your plan!'

  'The ghost is watching all of us,' the wonky old man replied in a sly wisp of a voice.  'She is going to find and destroy her killers and all of those who are friends with them...  Goodnight, nephew.  Sleep well.'

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

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