Bold Fenian Men
Chapter Eight
Bullets were bouncing off the walls around him and he dodged and weaved as much as he could to make himself a harder target. He could hear footsteps close behind him.
"Don't kill Caraher!" he heard McAllister yell.
"Don’t waste your time!" Padraig yelled back. "I'll never tell you anything!"
"I don’t want to ask you anything!" came the reply. "I want to fucking kill you myself!"
Padraig couldn't see Cearnaigh, Cillian or Gearoid anymore, and he was glad because he knew the UVF men would be coming after him and not them. He didn't want any more people to die trying to save him. Enough people had been killed because they'd refused to say where he was, or they hadn’t got out of he way when a gun had been pointed at Padraig's head. Padraig didn’t want it to happen ever again.
There was silence behind him now. Padraig skidded to a stop in another alley and wasted no time in pulling out his own gun, loading it and cocking it, keeping his finger on the trigger. There was a scuffling from the entrance to the alleyway and Padraig raised his gun in front of him, taking aim at head height.
"I wouldn’t do that." A voice came from behind him and he span round to see Billy McAllister standing there. "Bring him over." There was another scuffling sound from behind him and then another of the UVF men appeared beside McAllister, holding a gun to the head of a terrified-looking Gearoid.
"Get the fuck off him," Padraig took a step towards him but Gearoid's captor clicked the gun and pressed it further into Gearoid's head. They'd taken Gearoid's balaclava off and Padraig could clearly see the gash on his forehead and the blood running down his face.
Padraig could feel his heart thumping madly. He couldn't watch another person killed over him. Especially not Gearoid.
"Put your gun down." McAllister commanded. Padraig hesitated slightly, and then he looked at young Gearoid's face and sighed deeply, before dropping the gun to the floor.
"Let him go." Padraig said firmly. "You've got me. Let him go." William McAllister smiled a vicious smile.
"I never said I'd let him go if you put your gun down, did I?" he asked. Padraig looked at him in a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"You dirty bastard," he whispered in an icy voice. McAllister just laughed.
"Shoot him." Gearoid cried out, but he was cut short by a gunshot. The young Volunteer slumped to the floor, blood pouring from his head.
"NO!" Padraig screamed. "GEAROID! NO!" Padraig dived for his gun, but before he could get it McAllister stepped over and kicked him in the head, sending Padraig sprawling to the floor. McAllister kept his foot on Padraig's chest, preventing him from getting up again.
"Ah, it's a shame, hey, Caraher?" he asked sweetly. Padraig lay on the floor, looking up at McAllister and breathing heavily.
"You dirty hun bastard," Padraig spat. "I swear to God I'm going to rip you to pieces, I fucking swear …"
"I'm afraid you won’t get that chance." McAllister sighed happily. "God, I'm going to enjoy killing you." He pointed his gun down at Padraig's head, and Padraig continued glaring up at him.
"What do you think this'll achieve, eh?" he asked. "You think the IRA will just go away if you kill me? It won’t, son. The IRA will always be around!"
McAllister smiled, and Padraig saw his hand move for the trigger. In the very same split second, there were footsteps in the alley. McAllister paused, and that was all Padraig needed. He did the only thing he could, and he bit McAllister's leg as hard as he could. McAllister swore, loud enough for whoever was in the alley to hear.
"You'll not last much longer, Caraher," he smiled. "You'll get away this time. I wouldn’t want to rush the moment." Before Padraig could open his mouth to reply, he saw McAllister's foot come towards him just as it hit him in the side of the head. Everything went dark.
"Don't kill Caraher!" he heard McAllister yell.
"Don’t waste your time!" Padraig yelled back. "I'll never tell you anything!"
"I don’t want to ask you anything!" came the reply. "I want to fucking kill you myself!"
Padraig couldn't see Cearnaigh, Cillian or Gearoid anymore, and he was glad because he knew the UVF men would be coming after him and not them. He didn't want any more people to die trying to save him. Enough people had been killed because they'd refused to say where he was, or they hadn’t got out of he way when a gun had been pointed at Padraig's head. Padraig didn’t want it to happen ever again.
There was silence behind him now. Padraig skidded to a stop in another alley and wasted no time in pulling out his own gun, loading it and cocking it, keeping his finger on the trigger. There was a scuffling from the entrance to the alleyway and Padraig raised his gun in front of him, taking aim at head height.
"I wouldn’t do that." A voice came from behind him and he span round to see Billy McAllister standing there. "Bring him over." There was another scuffling sound from behind him and then another of the UVF men appeared beside McAllister, holding a gun to the head of a terrified-looking Gearoid.
"Get the fuck off him," Padraig took a step towards him but Gearoid's captor clicked the gun and pressed it further into Gearoid's head. They'd taken Gearoid's balaclava off and Padraig could clearly see the gash on his forehead and the blood running down his face.
Padraig could feel his heart thumping madly. He couldn't watch another person killed over him. Especially not Gearoid.
"Put your gun down." McAllister commanded. Padraig hesitated slightly, and then he looked at young Gearoid's face and sighed deeply, before dropping the gun to the floor.
"Let him go." Padraig said firmly. "You've got me. Let him go." William McAllister smiled a vicious smile.
"I never said I'd let him go if you put your gun down, did I?" he asked. Padraig looked at him in a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"You dirty bastard," he whispered in an icy voice. McAllister just laughed.
"Shoot him." Gearoid cried out, but he was cut short by a gunshot. The young Volunteer slumped to the floor, blood pouring from his head.
"NO!" Padraig screamed. "GEAROID! NO!" Padraig dived for his gun, but before he could get it McAllister stepped over and kicked him in the head, sending Padraig sprawling to the floor. McAllister kept his foot on Padraig's chest, preventing him from getting up again.
"Ah, it's a shame, hey, Caraher?" he asked sweetly. Padraig lay on the floor, looking up at McAllister and breathing heavily.
"You dirty hun bastard," Padraig spat. "I swear to God I'm going to rip you to pieces, I fucking swear …"
"I'm afraid you won’t get that chance." McAllister sighed happily. "God, I'm going to enjoy killing you." He pointed his gun down at Padraig's head, and Padraig continued glaring up at him.
"What do you think this'll achieve, eh?" he asked. "You think the IRA will just go away if you kill me? It won’t, son. The IRA will always be around!"
McAllister smiled, and Padraig saw his hand move for the trigger. In the very same split second, there were footsteps in the alley. McAllister paused, and that was all Padraig needed. He did the only thing he could, and he bit McAllister's leg as hard as he could. McAllister swore, loud enough for whoever was in the alley to hear.
"You'll not last much longer, Caraher," he smiled. "You'll get away this time. I wouldn’t want to rush the moment." Before Padraig could open his mouth to reply, he saw McAllister's foot come towards him just as it hit him in the side of the head. Everything went dark.