Bold Fenian Men

"I don't feel much safer." Padraig said to Cillian and Cearnaigh, as they walked down the Falls Road the next afternoon.

"Why not? They'll not have a clue where you're going now." Cearnaigh said, perfectly logically. But Padraig's intuition was playing up again.

"I don't know." he shrugged, annoyed and confused. "What happens if they find someone else out there and do the same thing? I know that they're all scumbags, like, but that was brilliant. Wherever I was, they were there. They certainly have potential and the manpower to pull something large off."

"Ah, but they don’t have the brains, do they?" Cillian grinned. "Come on, Padraig. You could get McAllister whenever you wanted."

"I don’t think I could." Padraig said. "It would need planning. And I think it's something that we should start doing. He's getting too close for comfort. That last attack, the few days after they attacked the car … that was scary. I don’t like to admit it, but it put the fear of God into me." Padraig shuddered and winced slightly at the thought.

Padraig had been in a shop down the road from his house when three masked gunmen had burst in and opened fire, nearly killing him. He'd only survived by diving behind the counter and getting out of the fire exit in the staff room.

"You'll be fine, Padraig." Cearnaigh said. "You'll pull something off. Something brilliant, like you always do." Cearnaigh grinned.

"No pressure for me, then." Padraig chuckled.

"Ah, you know it's true. Well, I'd best be off. I'll see you round."

"Want us to come with?"

"No, I'm all right. My car's only parked around the corner."

"All right. Stay safe, mo chara."

"I will."

Cillian and Padraig ducked into a shop for a minute, because Padraig was getting fed up of Cillian fantasising about food. Just as Cillian had finished demolishing several bars of chocolate, ("You should be fat, you know, but it'll never catch up on you." as Padraig had put it), they heard an almighty explosion from outside, followed by several screams.

Padraig took off round the corner, in the direction of the explosion, before Cillian had even registered what had happened.

Padraig skidded round the corner, and he knew he'd been right as soon as he saw the scene before him. Cearnaigh's car had been blown apart, and there was no sign of Cearnaigh himself. Padraig hoped that he hadn't been in he car, but he knew his hopes were in vain as soon as he saw the bloodsoaked figure slumped on the floor several feet from the car.

"Cearnaigh," Padraig muttered, running to his friend's side. Cearnaigh was lying on his front, twitching slightly, his head resting in a large pool of blood.

"Jesus Christ!" Cillian appeared behind Padraig, gasping at the sight of Cearnaigh. Cearnaigh was still now; the only movement was a trickle of blood running out of the corner of his mouth.

"I think he's dead," Padraig whispered, his heart plummeting. He gently reached over and pressed his index and middle finger against the side of Cearnaigh's neck. For a few awful seconds he could feel nothing, and then he felt a slight quiver against his fingers. Cearnaigh had a pulse, but it was barely there. Padraig pulled his coat off and wrapped it round his friend, praying to God to spare him.

Cillian crouched down next to Padraig, and he gently touched Cearnaigh's cheek.

"He's so cold," he whispered. Padraig nodded slowly, tears springing to his eyes. He blinked then back, refusing to show weakness. A large crowd had gathered, and they all would have recognised Padraig. He couldn’t show feeling in front of them.

Cearnaigh groaned weakly, and his eyes opened slightly, and Padraig saw his eyeballs roll back briefly before they focused. Padraig reached over and gently stroked Cearnaigh's back. Cearnaigh groaned again and coughed, and more blood trickled out of his mouth and splattered the floor. Padraig winced. His friend was dying, Padraig knew that much.

"It's going to be all right," Padraig whispered. "You'll be OK. Se ta go maith."

"Padraig …"

"Shh. Don’t speak." Padraig said softly. "Just relax. You'll be fine."

"I'm dying, Padraig." Padraig swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak softly and quietly.

"You're not dying, Cearnaigh. You're going to be fine. Just lie nice and still and you'll be away to hospital and you'll rest up and then you'll be fine."

"I don't know if I can last that long,"

"Please, Cearnaigh. I can’t do this without you." Padraig whispered, and to his surprise he felt a tear roll down his face and drip onto his lap. "Stay with us, Cearnaigh."

The next five minutes until the ambulance arrived were the longest of Padraig's life. He sat close to Cearnaigh, speaking to him, comforting him, praying for him. Cearnaigh was rushed away instantly by the paramedics when they arrived, barely breathing anymore.

Padraig watched the ambulance go, staring after it in disbelief. When it rounded to corner, Padraig walked shakily over to the car, which was nothing more than the frame of the wheels and a few chunks of metal and burning debris. The rest of it had been blown all around the car park. He was surprised that Cearnaigh survived the initial explosion, if this was the state of the car.

And then there was suddenly a lot of yelling from behind him, and he barely had time to turn round before Cillian had run over and thrown himself over Padraig.

"GET DOWN!" he yelled, pulling Padraig down to the ground just as there was a burst of gunfire. As soon as it died down, both men scrambled up from the ground and ran into the shelter of an alleyway nearby. Padraig span round and looked back briefly. The gunman wasn't coming after them. It would be too risky in a Catholic area. A car was driving away at speed, and then there was silence.

Padraig slumped down the wall onto the floor, still covered in Cearnaigh's blood.

"Padraig?" Cillian asked gently, concerned for the young IRA Commander. "Are you all right? You've not been hit, have you?"

"No," Padraig said softly. "Oh, God,"

"What? What's up?"

"I don’t think I can do this for much longer," Padraig whispered, and then to Cillian's complete horror and surprise, Padraig drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, buried his head in his knees, and began to cry.