The Glass Mountain Read Online Free Page A

said an’ this an’ that … the Big Man was real impressive to some. An’ he’s gone. An’ his kid’s still here.
    He stretches, grabs the overhead rail and tries to pull himself up. Stifles a scream and falls back. The contraption swings left right left right and stops. It’s about the same width as the pipe that he’d brought down on Thug’s head.
    There’s laughing, swearing, boozing, there’s lounging round under trees. There’s frying meat. They’re all there, Pres, Carver an’ all. An’ Thug, what belongs to Carver, that’s black with yellow eyes. A slinking dog. An’ now the laughing stops. An’ Carver’s coming from one way an’ the Big Man from another … We take off, the Big Man an’ me.
    â€˜I just wanted to knock him out, Dad. He’s got this little dog by the throat an’ he’s shaking him an’ shaking him. I had to stop it. I didn’t mean to kill him … Dad?’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜He says I poison everything I touch, Pres does. An’ Carver …’
    â€˜Fuck ’em. Ya just a kid. Yer gotta take no notice of all that psychology crap.’
    â€˜I do, Dad. I do. Remember when I crashed Turk’s bike?’
    â€˜Listen Kid, that’s just an inconsequential measure of bad luck. There’s good luck an’ there’s bad luck, that’s how it is. Life’s not all bad, Kid, it don’t work like that. There’ll be real good bits here an’ there an’ you’ll be around to see ’em. An’ then what ya do with ’em’s ya own affair. If ya wanna be pissed off with yaself that’s ya own affair too. But I’m telling ya, Kid, when them joyous windows open — an’ they will — a person’d be pretty light in the head not to snap up what’s on offer to feel real good ’bout life. An’ ’bout themselves while they’re at it. “When one door shuts, another opens”. Yer remember that, Kid.’
    Yeah, Dad. An’ where was the one that opened when Mum an’ Carver an’ every fuckin’ bastard around slammed the other in ya face?
    The young bikie’s sweating. He sticks to the sheets. Again he tries to move but stops. He can hear them coming. He knows their sound.
    The six swagger in, loud in leather and gold clippings. Eyes from other beds slip into sheets, hands feel for buzzers.
    The President sweeps back the curtain and sweat rises. The young bikie looks into pale eyes, china cold. A general knows instinctively how to instil fear, that’s why he’s the general. It’s in the silence, the steady gaze. A nuggetty, square-shaped general this, one that demands loyalty, admires intelligence. Sees it in the boy …
    He breathes closer, the voice is soft, an intimate menace … ‘Jist to remind ya, Kid, there’s rules made for a fuckin’ reason, an’ when someone breaks them rules we don’t like it. An’ when we don’t like it we’re inclined to do something about it …’
    â€˜He’s in real bad pain, Pres. Ya can tell —’
    â€˜I’m speaking, Turk.’
    â€˜Ya can tell —’
    â€˜Shut up!’
    The curtain swishes open.
    â€˜Afternoon tea?’
    A nurse bringing afternoon tea?
    The curtain closes …
    The leader moves closer, confidential like. ‘An’ don’t think ’bout chucking it away neither. Ya fuckin’ fingerprints are all over it. An’ we both know what we’re talkin’ ’bout ’cos Hambone jist happened to observe ya. Ya give it back, ya hear? Ya put it right in her fuckin’ hand — an’ hers only.’
    The plastic wall’s flung back and the six stomp out.
    The young bikie remains motionless, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breath raised in a silent howl. He opens his mouth and drives his teeth into his arm