Xion Island Zero: chapter 45

As they finished their meal, a bread roll sailed across the restaurant. It landed against Nash’s chair. The boy and Toby, who was probably his brother, laughed as Nash looked up. Luke made a lewd gesture and said something that Nash couldn’t hear. Then he spoke again, in a clearer voice that rang across the restaurant, ‘Queer cops shouldn’t be allowed in here with decent people.’

The table went quiet, and Brown stood up. ‘Sit down, Molly,’ Nash said under his breath. ‘Please, don’t draw attention to us, and he’ll soon get bored.’

Renshaw pulled her down, and she plonked into her seat with reluctance, glaring at Luke Grieve. ‘It’s a hate crime. We have to stand up to people like that. It’s not okay,’ she said.

‘Brown, save your crusade for the morning. I just want to finish my meal and get out of here before we make any more of a spectacle of ourselves.’

‘It’s not us, though, is it? It’s them.’

‘Hey. Poofter. Go on, send your fag-hag over here to sort us out.’ Luke laughed and pretended to be scared.

Nash put a restraining hand on Molly’s arm and asked the waiter for their bill. Seeing trouble brewing, one of the other servers had gone in search of the manager, who came to their table. He read the situation and apologised to Nash before going to the other family’s table.

‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to finish your drinks and leave,’ he said, addressing Luke directly.

 His family jumped in and protested before the boy could say anything else derogatory.

‘You can’t be serious. It’s a free country. He’s just a kid and he was only saying what everybody else thinks,’ one woman shrieked.

‘My boy’s got every right to speak his mind. People like that shouldn’t be allowed in the police. It’s an abomination. That’s what it is,’  a man said. ‘Good on you, son.’ He stood up, and Nash saw he was a big brute that he’d had previous dealings with. He patted the boy on his back.

Kelvin was furious, but Nash calmed him. ‘Life in the closet was a lot easier than this,’ he joked. ‘Not tonight, babe. Come on, let’s go home.’

The manager tried to persuade them to stay. He offered a free bottle of champagne, but Nash had had enough. The Christmas tree and homophobia combo wasn’t working for him. The manager seemed at a loss as to whether to throw the boy and his family out, and Nash smiled at him and asked him to let them be.

They left the others to continue enjoying themselves, and Nash tried to hide his stubborn limp as he walked outside. The air was cold enough to freeze the bulbs in the fairy lights. ‘I’m surprised Rudolph's balls aren’t as red as his nose,’ he joked to Kelvin as he pulled his scarf around his lower face.

Kelvin shrugged Nash’s hand away when he tried to take his arm. ‘How can you brush behaviour like that off, Si? They’re a pack of baying animals.’

‘And what good would it do, causing a scene? You aren’t going to change their opinion of us.’

‘You’re a police detective. You should be standing up for the people who can’t do it for themselves.’

‘And this detective is off duty and can do without a fight tonight. Either with them—or with you.’ He was about to say something light to shake the bad mood as they rounded the corner, but never got to speak.

Three boys were waiting outside the car park, and even in the murky December fog, Nash recognised them.

They caught him unawares, and the ringleader, Dean Poole, ran forward before Nash could react. He grabbed Kelvin and yanked him against the wall. Within a second, he had a knife to his throat.

 Nash froze. Fear like he’d never felt before gripped him. He saw Travis Bernstein sliding his knife across his father’s throat. ‘Stop,’ he said, but it came out as a wheezing, shocked breath on the wind.

Alan had been innocent, too. And he was dead. Nash couldn’t lose Kelvin.

The blood was everywhere. Whose lifeforce? He saw Kelvin falling with blood gushing from his throat and cried out.

He blinked; it was okay. There was no blood. Not yet. And Kelvin regained his balance. He wasn’t cut. Get a grip, Nash, he told himself. ‘Put the knife down, Poole,’ he said. ‘It’s okay, son. You don’t have to do this.’

Kelvin’s eyes were wide. ‘You’d better kill me, you little shit. Do it now, or I’m going to make you eat that blade.’

‘Kelvin. Shut up,’ Nash said.

‘Ooh, Kelvin.’ Luke said, pretending to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘That’s a pretty name, Princess.’  Nash joined the dots. After ringing them to come, Luke had left the restaurant to join his friends. His family partied on inside, oblivious to the danger their son was putting himself in.

‘I said drop the knife. I’ve seen too many young people spending years in jail over misplaced bravado and bad split-second choices. We can stop this now before anybody gets hurt.’

‘It’s too late though, innit, cop? If I drop this, I’m done for.’ He waved the knife around, and Nash motioned to Kelvin not to try anything to overpower him and risk making the situation worse.   

Nash lifted his hands; the sharp pain in his ribs made him gasp, but he straightened to show his authority. ‘Dean, you’re already in trouble for what happened to me. Don’t throw the rest of your life away.’

Dean sneered. ‘You’re a freak of nature. You want to arrest me? Go on, but don’t forget who’s holding the blade.’

Another boy, Curtis, shuffled backwards, looking at the main road and the bridge. He glanced at Ash, who looked less certain than before. They were ready to run. ‘Yeah, D,’ Curtis said. ‘Let’s get out of here. He can’t prove anything if we all leg-it.’

Ash said, ‘I’m out of here,’ but he lacked conviction and didn’t move.

Dean snarled at them. ‘Shut up.’

‘I’m turning my back to let you go on your way, Dean,’ Nash said. ‘I won’t stop you. You haven’t backed yourself into a corner that you can’t walk away from. Let Kelvin go and walk away now, and we’ll put this down to a simple misunderstanding.’

Nash saw his uncertainty. They were about to fold—when Nash heard a voice.

‘What the hell’s going on?’

He groaned. Jay charged out of the car park and raced up the street towards them. Keeley was behind him as Jay barrelled forward.

‘Jay, back off,’ Nash shouted.

The boys panicked, and Curtis and Ash peeled away. Norton chased Ash and brought him down in the street before he reached the corner. And Brown came out of the Ferry running. She went after Curtis, who never made it to the other side of the main road. Only Bowes still had his eyes on Dean Poole and the knife. The street fractured into three clusters. The gang of boys shifted like restless dogs at one end, the uniforms spilled from the restaurant at the other, and a knot of bystanders craned for a better view in the general confusion.

Dean spun Kelvin around, taking him off guard and pushed him to the floor.  He swung the knife, aiming it at Jay. The street was full of coppers and bystanders who’d come out to see what was happening. Luke’s family were all there, shouting at once. People only added to the mayhem. Nash was furious. He’d had it under control. Another second and it would have all been over.

Keeley Norton was on the phone with her knee in Ashley Rodger’s back. She was shouting for backup. Brown ran back towards Nash with her heels clattering on the road.

Dean swung his knife again, missing Jay, who ducked.

Nash had to take an aggressive stance. The time for talking had passed, and Jay was in mortal danger. Nash started running. His ribs screamed as he moved. It was a hot reminder that his body wasn’t ready for sprinting, yet. Every breath felt like a shard of glass, but there was no choice. He was moving towards Jay through treacle. He wouldn’t get there in time. Everything happened too fast and excruciatingly slowly at the same time.

Jay pushed Nash away. His arms were outstretched, warding him off and stopping him from getting close to the boy with the knife. He had to play the bloody hero, but this wasn’t the time. ‘Move Bowes,’ Nash shouted, barrelling into them.

He crashed against the wall on his bad side and wheezed as pain engulfed him. Jay threw a hard punch, but it went wild and glanced off Dean’s shoulder.

And Dean lost it. He stabbed wildly. Any flesh he connected with was a success. The knife came down fast, slicing through the air, and afterwards, Nash swore that he heard it whoosh.

Jay opened his mouth. He looked like a surprised goldfish. Nash’s voice left him in slow motion. The single word, ‘No,’ stretched over a lifetime as he watched Jay fall.

Fifteen minutes earlier, Jay had been stealing chips off Keeley’s plate and winding her up with the grin he thought was charming. Now his lips were pale and his jokes were quiet. Nash would have traded his own life to bring them back.

Nash moaned again as Jay looked down at himself. It had happened so fast. In the blink of an eye, while Nash hadn’t been able to move fast enough, winded in the street.

Blood fell like the petals of a spring rose in a winter breeze.

Nash pushed away from the wall and moved now. He caught Jay as he fell to his knees, holding him in his arms.

‘No. Stay with me, Bowes. Jay. Stay with me.’

Poole stared at the knife sticking out of Bowes’ chest.

‘What have you done?’ Nash said.

Poole ran, and nobody stopped him. They heard the sirens coming over the bridge; he wouldn’t get far. His footsteps faded, but the damage he left behind would echo for years.

Jay’s hands clutched at Nash’s shirt, and Molly grabbed Keeley before she could rush in. Kelvin was frozen, staring at the carnage in horror—as Nash had been at the start of this mess—at the time when he should have done something to stop it from getting out of hand. He blamed himself. Could he have done anything differently?  

The women officers went to help Jay. Every pair of eyes was on him, keeping pressure, stopping him from dying. Poole and his gang could wait.

 Bowes was bleeding out in the street.

‘Jay. Look at me, son. You’re all right. You’re okay,’ Nash lied.

There was blood all over the pavement. It poured between Nash’s fingers as he applied pressure around the knife. Nobody could survive this much blood loss.

Jay tried to say something.  It was a gurgle, and Nash leaned in closer.

‘The ambulance is here now, Jay. Don’t speak. Just breathe. You’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?’

Jay’s lips moved. ‘Tell Keeley I love her.’

‘You’ll tell her yourself.’ Nash swallowed hard as he remembered Molly saying the same thing to him days before.

He had lived to say the things he needed to. And so would Jay.

Sirens stopped screaming, but Keeley was sobbing almost as loudly. Molly directed traffic and guided the medics over. The street was in chaos, and she told some other officers to clear the crowd.

Nash didn’t move.

He cradled Jay in his arms, feeling his warmth draining away. He was back in the cabin.

He knew how this ended.

The blood ran. And Nash held his young officer, PC Jay Bowes. Nash knew he’d never make a detective.