Ashes to Ashes

Darragh and Oisin stood in the porch of the pub, shaking from head to toe and wondering what they were going to do now.

"They've been looking for a fucking excuse," Darragh said. "They're going to love this." Oisin nodded his agreement.

"They'll be looking for us." Oisin said. "They'll be wanting to find us. But we have to stay calm. If we panic we die."

"I'm so glad I heard that news report."

"So am I." Oisin managed a small laugh. "Come on. We need to get to Diarmuid's. Never did I think you'd be going there voluntarily." Both young men slipped out of the pub and glanced up and down the street. Ducking down a nearby alleyway, they began making their way quickly down the thin alleyway.

Oisin noticed that Darragh's right hand, the hand closest to him, remained in his right pocket, and from the shape of his friend's hand he could tell Darragh was armed.

Darragh couldn’t help thinking about if they were caught. He'd seen the scene so many times, and he could see it now. Two bodies lying on the road … while the police and Army strutted around the place gloating over their so-called "victory".

"There." Oisin stopped his friend as they saw a figure making his way towards them.

"STOP!" Darragh wasn't taking any chances, and he whipped the gun out, clasped the gun in both hands and pointed it at the oncoming figure. "HOLD IT!" The figure instantly froze and whoever it was threw his hands into the air. Darragh moved cautiously forward and breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised a shocked-looking Diarmuid.

"Jesus," he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse because of shock and fear.

"Sorry," Darragh's voice was soft with relief. He lowered the gun, clicked the safety catch back on and placed it back in his pocket.

"What the Hell were you thinking?" Diarmuid asked, looking pale.

"I had to get Oisin."

"You didn't have to get him at all." Diarmuid glared at Darragh. "I could have gone to get him."

"Well, tough. I went. And now we're here. Come on, we need to get back to yours." The silently made their way out of the alleyway, padding softly and cautiously over to the entry by the road. Diarmuid looked out and then signalled to the two endangered men that it was safe.

"This is unreal, isn't it?" Oisin asked his best friend quietly. Darragh nodded.

"God, I've never been so scared in all my life!"

"Don't do anything stupid, Darragh," Oisin said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Just don’t do anything stupid. If they see us, if they catch us, please just think of yourself. I don't want you worrying about anything else, anything else at all but getting yourself out of here."

"Fuck off, Oisin. If you get hurt I'm helping you. I'm not running off and leaving you, am I?"

"What about Grainne and the wee ones?" Oisin asked. "Think of them, Darragh."

"Shit." They were interrupted by Diarmuid swearing.

"What?"

"Them. They've seen us."

For a long minute the two different groups of people stared at each other. Darragh, Oisin and Diarmuid, and the group of police and Army at the bottom of the street.

Then the three IRA men turned and ran faster than they'd ever run, back up the street, hearing the others give chase behind them.

"Split!" Diarmuid yelled at Darragh and Oisin. "Split and just get out of here!"

Darragh ducked down one of the alleys and kept sprinting, ignoring the stitch now ripping through his right side. He could hear Oisin behind him, and it was an unspoken rule that they weren't going to separate from each other.

They got out from the alley and onto another road, but they'd only been running for a few seconds before more policemen and soldiers appeared.

"Jesus, are all of them out here?" Darragh couldn’t help yell, and Oisin grabbed him and pulled him into a doorway as gunshots suddenly ripped through the still night air.

"What do we do?" he yelled over the noise, as they realised that they were stuck.

"The only thing we can," Darragh said, and he drove his shoulder against the door of the house. Oisin joined in, and with the combined effort the door splintered and fell open, and they ran into the hall of the house. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and they heard someone scream and run back up them as they ran through into the kitchen, no doubt with a dozen or more soldiers and police to follow.

Oisin had already pulled open the back door and the two friends ran back out into the night, leaping over the wall at the end of the small concrete yard at the back of the house.

Running down the next alleyway, all that could be heard was the sound of their feet thumping against the floor. Both young men reached the end of the alleyway and stopped, peeking around the corner down the deserted road.

"Jesus," Darragh muttered again, and he sounded close to tears.

"Darragh, look," Oisin's voice was incredibly calm. "This is really dangerous. There's a chance one of both of us might not make it."

"Don't speak like that." Darragh gasped, looking at his best friend.

"If I don't get out of this, I just want you to know something." Oisin looked like he was about to cry as well. "You're the best mate I ever had, all right? I love you, mate."

"Same here," Darragh whispered. "God, I've known you all my life … I don't know what I'd do without you. You can't die. I can’t die. This isn't going to happen."

"Just in case, Darragh. Is there anything you want to say?"

"I … I love you too, mate. I've never had a mate as good as you and I never will." Oisin smiled, and for a brief second the two friends hugged each other tightly.

"Come on, then. Let's go."