Bold Fenian Men
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Where are we even going, Padraig?" Cearnaigh asked, several hours later. They were still creeping around back alleyways, Padraig with his finger on the trigger of his gun at all times. Padraig ignored him. Truth was, he didn’t know.
"If I say run, youse run." he said firmly. "I don’t want any heroes tonight. I don’t want either of youse coming back for me if I'm caught. Just go."
"You know we couldn’t, Padraig." Cearnaigh said. "Now come on. Where are we going? Cillian can barely stand up." Padraig looked at his best friend. Cillian was leaning against the fence, pale and breathing deeply. Padraig felt a pang of guilt.
"All right. We'll rest here." Cillian slid down the fence and lay down flat on the floor. Padraig went over to him and sat down beside him, and Cearnaigh paced anxiously up and down the alleyway.
"What's going on, Padraig? You never did tell us."
"They were coming to shoot me at the house. They'll be at your house as well, Cearnaigh, and at Donovan's Pub. I hope Roisin's all right …"
"She'll be fine," Cillian croaked.
"Shut up, you." Padraig commanded. "And rest."
"That's a fine thing coming from you." Cillian muttered, but he obeyed.
"Youse pair wait here. I'm going to check the area. Do NOT come after me." Padraig watched them both closely. Cearnaigh frowned.
"We're hardly going to sit here if we're hearing you getting shot up, are we?"
"Don’t fucking come after me," Padraig hissed. Cearnaigh fell silent, remembering his place. Padraig watched him for a moment more, and then he disappeared up the alleyway.
Padraig kept his guns stretched out in front of him at all times, his finger on the trigger and his heart thumping. But he was sure about what he's said. He didn’t want them to come after him. If anyone else died for him then he felt like just blowing his own brains out.
Padraig froze as he heard footsteps close by. He pressed himself against the wall, his heart hammering against his chest. The footsteps went up the alleyway past the side alley he was hiding in. He heard the footsteps pause, and then they carried up the alley, back the way Padraig had come from.
Padraig didn’t even waste time to catch a breath. He jumped out and ran down the alley, and he'd shot the man before his finger had even touched the trigger. Cearnaigh and Cillian looked up, astonished. They hadn’t even noticed him.
"What the –" Cearnaigh asked, looking at the bloodsoaked body of the man lying slumped on the floor. Padraig was already crouched next to him, searching his pockets.
"Ah ha," he muttered, pulling out a small card. "Ben Craig. Another one of McAllister's men we no longer have to worry about."
"Padraig, how did you –"
"Don’t come after me." Padraig said again, before turning and hurrying back off. He was getting close.
"If I say run, youse run." he said firmly. "I don’t want any heroes tonight. I don’t want either of youse coming back for me if I'm caught. Just go."
"You know we couldn’t, Padraig." Cearnaigh said. "Now come on. Where are we going? Cillian can barely stand up." Padraig looked at his best friend. Cillian was leaning against the fence, pale and breathing deeply. Padraig felt a pang of guilt.
"All right. We'll rest here." Cillian slid down the fence and lay down flat on the floor. Padraig went over to him and sat down beside him, and Cearnaigh paced anxiously up and down the alleyway.
"What's going on, Padraig? You never did tell us."
"They were coming to shoot me at the house. They'll be at your house as well, Cearnaigh, and at Donovan's Pub. I hope Roisin's all right …"
"She'll be fine," Cillian croaked.
"Shut up, you." Padraig commanded. "And rest."
"That's a fine thing coming from you." Cillian muttered, but he obeyed.
"Youse pair wait here. I'm going to check the area. Do NOT come after me." Padraig watched them both closely. Cearnaigh frowned.
"We're hardly going to sit here if we're hearing you getting shot up, are we?"
"Don’t fucking come after me," Padraig hissed. Cearnaigh fell silent, remembering his place. Padraig watched him for a moment more, and then he disappeared up the alleyway.
Padraig kept his guns stretched out in front of him at all times, his finger on the trigger and his heart thumping. But he was sure about what he's said. He didn’t want them to come after him. If anyone else died for him then he felt like just blowing his own brains out.
Padraig froze as he heard footsteps close by. He pressed himself against the wall, his heart hammering against his chest. The footsteps went up the alleyway past the side alley he was hiding in. He heard the footsteps pause, and then they carried up the alley, back the way Padraig had come from.
Padraig didn’t even waste time to catch a breath. He jumped out and ran down the alley, and he'd shot the man before his finger had even touched the trigger. Cearnaigh and Cillian looked up, astonished. They hadn’t even noticed him.
"What the –" Cearnaigh asked, looking at the bloodsoaked body of the man lying slumped on the floor. Padraig was already crouched next to him, searching his pockets.
"Ah ha," he muttered, pulling out a small card. "Ben Craig. Another one of McAllister's men we no longer have to worry about."
"Padraig, how did you –"
"Don’t come after me." Padraig said again, before turning and hurrying back off. He was getting close.