Bold Fenian Men
Chapter Thirty-Five
"I just don't think she should, that's all." Padraig told Cillian as they sat in a car, waiting for the world's longest traffic lights to finally go green again. It wasn't Padraig or Cillian's car, but an IRA car so tracing Padraig became harder.
"It's her own choice, I guess."
"That's what she said." Padraig sighed. "I tell you, Cillian. If something bad happens to Roisin because of me I'm packing it in. I'm leaving the IRA."
"You wouldn't!"
"I would. Going after me is one thing, but going after a young girl is quite another."
"They wouldn’t kill a girl." Padraig snorted with laughter.
"They would. We’re talking about the man who stood over me kicking my head in when I was dying. I don’t think he'd have any problem in shooting Roisin." Padraig felt sick at the very thought.
The lights switched to amber and Padraig finally looked back up to the road. They set off back to Padraig's house.
"Could he drive any slower?" Cillian rolled his eyes as the van in front of them slowed down to way below thirty miles an hour.
"Don't think so." Padraig muttered. He looked to see if there was room to overtake but there was another large van coming up the other side. Suddenly, both vans stopped.
"What the Hell are they doing?" Cillian asked. He glanced at Padraig, and was shocked to see a look of terror on his best friend's face. "Padraig?"
"GET THE FUCK DOWN!" Padraig suddenly yelled. "SHIT!" Cillian obeyed instantly, trusting Padraig's instincts, and he ducked down as low as he could, making sure his head was well below the dashboard. Padraig threw himself longways over the seat, and Cillian could feel Padraig's head against his side. He instinctively put his hand over Padraig's head, as though in an effort to protect him, though he knew that if a bullet hit his friend, his hand wouldn’t do much good.
In the same split second, the doors of the van in front of them burst open and two gunmen jumped out, opening fire on the car. Padraig tucked his head further down, feeling the wind as the bullets rushed past him. He prayed that Cillian wasn't hit.
There was a loud crash as the windscreen shattered because of all the bullets hitting it, and then the gunshots died down. Padraig allowed himself to go limp, praying that if the gunmen looked in they'd think he'd been killed. He could hear people from the other cars screaming, believing the occupants of the car to be dead.
Padraig heard footsteps coming over to the car, and he hoped he looked realistically dead.
"Did we get him?" someone asked.
"Not sure. This one's dead, though." Padraig's heart skipped a beat. Cillian?
"All right. Do the car if they're both dead."
"Don't know why Billy didn’t just get us to this before!"
"Because he wanted to kill him, probably."
"Well, now he just wants him dead. And he doesn’t care how he dies, I guess, just as long as he's dead." Padraig heard a soft whoosh sound, but he couldn’t work out what it was. Something was then thrown through the windscreen. Padraig felt it land on his back, and then there was a loud bang and Padraig felt a searing pain spread across his back. He heard footsteps running off and so he let out a yell of pain.
"Ah, Jesus!" he yelled, and then to his relief he heard stirring beside him.
"Padraig?"
"Cillian!"
"Jesus Christ, Padraig!"
"I know! Get the fucking door open!" Padraig was now rolling around as best as he could in the car, trying to put out the flames from the petrol bomb that had been thrown through the window. It was no use, however, as the petrol had spread all over the front of the car and there was fire everywhere on Padraig's side.
"Cillian! Help!" Padraig yelled, beginning to panic. This was not the way he wanted to go at all. "CILLIAN!" Padraig was coughing now, as, unable to reach through the flames to get his seatbelt undone, he wasn't able to get away from the smoke that had now filled the car.
"Padraig, just hold on a minute, right?" Cillian was fumbling with his own seatbelt, and when he finally managed to find it through the hazy air and the smoke, he turned towards Padraig and started trying to find where to unbuckle Padraig's seatbelt. By now Padraig was almost covered with flames and Cillian could feel his friend's struggling becoming desperate.
"Calm down, Padraig!"
"CALM DOWN?" Padraig shrieked. "I'M ON FIRE! HOW CAN I FUCKING CALM DOWN?" Cillian braced himself and then plunged his hands into the flames, trying desperately to free Padraig, whose struggling was beginning to becoming weaker.
"It's all right, Padraig, nearly there!" Cillian said, desperately trying to keep his friend calm. By now several people had run over to help and were trying to get the doors open to let in more fresh air, as the shattered windscreen wasn't being much help, apart from fanning the flames.
Padraig was now worryingly still.
He'd just disappeared totally into the flames when Cillian managed to find his seatbelt buckle and unfasten it. Cillian grabbed his best friend under the arms and shuffled backwards, pulling himself and Padraig out of the passenger door, which had been pulled open by one of the crowd that had gathered.
"Is he all right?" someone asked as Cillian got out, pulling an unconscious Padraig out of the car and dragging him away from it, laying him down a safe distance from the burning car and throwing his coat over him, batting out the flames.
"I don’t know," Cillian said once the flames were out. "Padraig?" Cillian pulled him over onto his side and checked his pulse. It was there, thank God. "Come on, Padraig! Wake up!"
"It's her own choice, I guess."
"That's what she said." Padraig sighed. "I tell you, Cillian. If something bad happens to Roisin because of me I'm packing it in. I'm leaving the IRA."
"You wouldn't!"
"I would. Going after me is one thing, but going after a young girl is quite another."
"They wouldn’t kill a girl." Padraig snorted with laughter.
"They would. We’re talking about the man who stood over me kicking my head in when I was dying. I don’t think he'd have any problem in shooting Roisin." Padraig felt sick at the very thought.
The lights switched to amber and Padraig finally looked back up to the road. They set off back to Padraig's house.
"Could he drive any slower?" Cillian rolled his eyes as the van in front of them slowed down to way below thirty miles an hour.
"Don't think so." Padraig muttered. He looked to see if there was room to overtake but there was another large van coming up the other side. Suddenly, both vans stopped.
"What the Hell are they doing?" Cillian asked. He glanced at Padraig, and was shocked to see a look of terror on his best friend's face. "Padraig?"
"GET THE FUCK DOWN!" Padraig suddenly yelled. "SHIT!" Cillian obeyed instantly, trusting Padraig's instincts, and he ducked down as low as he could, making sure his head was well below the dashboard. Padraig threw himself longways over the seat, and Cillian could feel Padraig's head against his side. He instinctively put his hand over Padraig's head, as though in an effort to protect him, though he knew that if a bullet hit his friend, his hand wouldn’t do much good.
In the same split second, the doors of the van in front of them burst open and two gunmen jumped out, opening fire on the car. Padraig tucked his head further down, feeling the wind as the bullets rushed past him. He prayed that Cillian wasn't hit.
There was a loud crash as the windscreen shattered because of all the bullets hitting it, and then the gunshots died down. Padraig allowed himself to go limp, praying that if the gunmen looked in they'd think he'd been killed. He could hear people from the other cars screaming, believing the occupants of the car to be dead.
Padraig heard footsteps coming over to the car, and he hoped he looked realistically dead.
"Did we get him?" someone asked.
"Not sure. This one's dead, though." Padraig's heart skipped a beat. Cillian?
"All right. Do the car if they're both dead."
"Don't know why Billy didn’t just get us to this before!"
"Because he wanted to kill him, probably."
"Well, now he just wants him dead. And he doesn’t care how he dies, I guess, just as long as he's dead." Padraig heard a soft whoosh sound, but he couldn’t work out what it was. Something was then thrown through the windscreen. Padraig felt it land on his back, and then there was a loud bang and Padraig felt a searing pain spread across his back. He heard footsteps running off and so he let out a yell of pain.
"Ah, Jesus!" he yelled, and then to his relief he heard stirring beside him.
"Padraig?"
"Cillian!"
"Jesus Christ, Padraig!"
"I know! Get the fucking door open!" Padraig was now rolling around as best as he could in the car, trying to put out the flames from the petrol bomb that had been thrown through the window. It was no use, however, as the petrol had spread all over the front of the car and there was fire everywhere on Padraig's side.
"Cillian! Help!" Padraig yelled, beginning to panic. This was not the way he wanted to go at all. "CILLIAN!" Padraig was coughing now, as, unable to reach through the flames to get his seatbelt undone, he wasn't able to get away from the smoke that had now filled the car.
"Padraig, just hold on a minute, right?" Cillian was fumbling with his own seatbelt, and when he finally managed to find it through the hazy air and the smoke, he turned towards Padraig and started trying to find where to unbuckle Padraig's seatbelt. By now Padraig was almost covered with flames and Cillian could feel his friend's struggling becoming desperate.
"Calm down, Padraig!"
"CALM DOWN?" Padraig shrieked. "I'M ON FIRE! HOW CAN I FUCKING CALM DOWN?" Cillian braced himself and then plunged his hands into the flames, trying desperately to free Padraig, whose struggling was beginning to becoming weaker.
"It's all right, Padraig, nearly there!" Cillian said, desperately trying to keep his friend calm. By now several people had run over to help and were trying to get the doors open to let in more fresh air, as the shattered windscreen wasn't being much help, apart from fanning the flames.
Padraig was now worryingly still.
He'd just disappeared totally into the flames when Cillian managed to find his seatbelt buckle and unfasten it. Cillian grabbed his best friend under the arms and shuffled backwards, pulling himself and Padraig out of the passenger door, which had been pulled open by one of the crowd that had gathered.
"Is he all right?" someone asked as Cillian got out, pulling an unconscious Padraig out of the car and dragging him away from it, laying him down a safe distance from the burning car and throwing his coat over him, batting out the flames.
"I don’t know," Cillian said once the flames were out. "Padraig?" Cillian pulled him over onto his side and checked his pulse. It was there, thank God. "Come on, Padraig! Wake up!"