Short Story - Anthony & Gabriel - Finished - Draft

The beggar awoke, startled by a man sprinting past him. He started to say something rude but his voice failed him. Frowning, he stretched his legs, shut his eyes and tried to sleep. ‘Get out of the way!’ Another man quickly swam into focus and tripped over the beggar’s legs, careening into the wall and hitting his head. With his legs giving way from underneath him, he collapsed into a heap. ‘Shit.’ He crawled over to check the dishevelled stranger, his irritation at the first man quickly dissipating. A well-dressed gentleman was prone before him; how fortunate. ‘Mate?’ He was speaking to himself, desperately trying not to stir him, his eyes drawn to something shiny protruding from the stranger’s jacket pocket. Reaching out, his fingers gripped the object; slippery, smooth, but too heavy to move. The man stirred and groaned, causing the beggar to release his grip and quickly shuffle backwards. ‘What?’ the man mumbled, nonplussed and exhausted. He picked himself up off the floor, shaking out the tail of his jacket. ‘Sorry about that. I was chasing after him… and now I seem to be covered in…’ he lifted his jacket to his nose ‘coffee? Why do I smell of coffee?’ He picked at a few stubborn pieces of refuse before rubbing down his jacket. The beggar shuffled a little further away. ‘You knocked over my cup but it was cold, don’t worry.’ ‘I’ll fetch you another; it’s the least I can do.’ He smiled apologetically down at the beggar, already forgetting the damage done to his expensive jacket. Reaching down to right the spilled cup, he noticed the dog ends of some cigarettes and other assorted jetsam in the cold, light-brown slurry of coffee. It smelt a little alcoholic too -- interesting, he thought, that a beggar could afford such luxuries. Shrugging, he stepped out of the alley and looked around for his friend. ‘Gabe?’ He waited for a response. When none came, he bent over to catch his breath. With his head between his legs he could see that the beggar was gone. ‘Anthony!’ Gabriel was standing in a doorway further up the street, a 1

silhouette cast by the light behind him. ‘Over here!’ With the low cloud occluding his vision, he could only just make out his friend. Slowly straightening himself, Anthony began to walk. Placing one foot in front of another, down the cold, cobbled street, he fought the cramps and the exhaustion. In those 100 yards to the café, Anthony wondered how he’d ended up here, in the middle of a deserted street. A deserted street in a small English town; a town seemingly so far removed from civilisation that it didn’t even have street lamps. He stopped at the bright entrance to the café, smiling wearily at Gabe who was sitting down at a table, already nursing a hot cup of coffee, his favourite. Smiling, after everything they’d been through. It was that infectious enthusiasm – that ready, cheeky grin – that had dragged him, kicking and screaming, along for the ride. Yet again he had been reeled in by his enigmatic fervour to set off on another reckless flight of fancy. ‘Perhaps ‘friend’ is too strong a term.’ he muttered, stumbling across the plastic flooring and slumping into the chair opposite Gabriel. Catching the eye of the only other person there, the owner, Gabriel quickly ordered another coffee. ‘You know I don’t like coffee.’ Anthony sighed; they’d done this dance before. It felt like they’d done this very same dance in every café in England. ‘Tea. I like tea. Well brewed tea, with a little milk. Tea.’ ‘I’ll convert you eventually, trust me.’ Gabriel grinned the same grin that Anthony had seen all too often. Through America, Ireland and now England it had been that grin, accompanied by his unerring, unswerving confidence that had secured the information they had so desperately sought and fought for. It was the same information that had led them, at great cost, to this dingy café. Anthony nodded a thank you at the wrinkled owner of the café as she placed a cup on the table and retreated back behind the counter. ‘You know, I won’t enjoy this.’ Anthony lifted the cup of coffee, the slightest trace of a grin forming at the corner of his lips. He couldn’t help but mirror Gabe’s grin. There was something about him, something which made arguing a thoroughly fruitless exercise. He sipped it quietly. ‘You know, it might

taste like shit, but, right now – and don’t quote me on this – it’s just what I need.’ ‘It couldn’t be helped, Ant. Sometimes it’s unavoidable.’ ‘It’s always avoidable! And Gabe?’ ‘Yeah?’ He was still grinning. ‘Don’t call me Ant. You know I hate it almost as much as I hate this coffee.’ He gulped the rest of it down with a grimace. ‘You said this time things would be different.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Mind you, you always say that; I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but…’ ‘Look, we got what we needed! Surely, in the grand scale of things, that’s all that matters.’ It was a statement. Anthony had been here before; he’d heard it all before. Different town, the same nonchalance – and the same, damn coffee. ‘We didn’t even go back to check on the kid…’Anthony was staring down into the dregs of his coffee, unable to look at his friend. Through the corner of his vision he saw Gabriel’s grin quickly fade and his brow furrow. He was actually sad; an emotion Anthony had seen in his face only a handful of times since they were kids. Gabriel gently put down his cup and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket for some money. By the time Anthony looked up he was grinning again, though some of the impishness was gone. ‘I’ll pay for both of us.’ Gabriel put some coins firmly on the table, as if that would somehow make up for the atrocity that he and Gabriel had just perpetrated. Anthony nodded; he was still too numb from the recent events to argue. He reached into his jacket and touched his fingers gently to the wound; it was warm and sticky. The bleeding had started again. ‘I must’ve torn the stitches back in the alley,’ Anthony said, wincing as his fingers continued their gentle prodding. ‘Why did you have to run? Running draws attention. That beggar –’ ‘Because we had to get away quickly. Trust me.’ Gabriel quickly rose to his feet and strode over to the door, his enthusiasm fully restored. He opened the door and a siren could be heard in the distance; he grinned even wider. ‘We should get going.’ ‘Is that a fire engine?’ Fragments of the last hour were bubbling up from 3

the groggy depths of his memory. Slowly he pieced them together to form a complete vision. He flinched and gaped at Gabriel, aghast at what his friend had set in motion. ‘I told you, we should get going.’ The beggar got up slowly and dusted himself off. His legs ached from all the sitting and he needed to stretch. He’d been promised a small fortune to sit and wait for the perfect chance, but it had come while he was asleep. The promise of money; the promise of clean clothes and food and warmth had just been squandered. With blood returning to his legs, he trudged towards where the men had come. Sniffing and looking upwards to the rooftops, he noticed an acrid, oily smell in the air. A tall building was alight, illuminating the thick fog. Quickly, a spark of hope returning, he reached for the phone in his pocket. The buttons were small and hard to work, a problem exacerbated by his cold, calloused fingers. Hopping impatiently he waited for someone, anyone, to pick up. The object he’d seen earlier, touched even – had he really come that close? Could they really have done it? A nagging, chilling feeling of uncertainty was creeping along his fingers and his arms. He shivered. The uncertainty he harboured was instantly replaced by dread when someone answered the phone. ‘They got it.’ The whisper escaped his lips louder than he had hoped. ‘How?’ Agitated whispers could be heard. ‘I don’t know. And I can hear sirens. I think they torched the museum!’ The whispering continued, hushed and unintelligible. ‘Follow them.’ Gabriel and Anthony were walking slowly now, away from the burning museum. Gabriel looked to his left, up at the sky. ‘It was necessary.’ He looked at Anthony. Anthony kicked at a rock and slowed his pace. He stopped, sighing. ‘I just hope it’s worth it.’ He slid his bloody fingers into his jacket pocket for reassurance. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s worth?‘ ‘A lot, but…’ It was Gabriel’s turn to kick a stone towards Anthony.

‘Is it worth more than the museum we – you – torched?’ ‘Let’s hope so.’ ‘This is the bit where you say it’s just about liquidising the assets…’ Anthony walked on, leaving Gabriel behind him. ‘This time,’ Gabriel tried to catch up, ‘I’m sure we’ve got the right one.’ Anthony continued to walk ahead; his legs were longer than Gabriel’s. ‘Ant.’ Gabriel stopped and wheezed, out of breath. Anthony turned, his gaze softening. ‘I’m the one with a knife wound, remember?’ Something quietly exploded in the distance, rattling nearby windows. Anthony flinched and glared; Gabriel hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘Surprise.’ Gabriel was still trying to catch his breath. ‘Always with the fireworks...’ Anthony wrapped an arm around his friend and found himself grinning again, this time at Gabriel’s unhealthy love of explosives. ‘Tell me, is she going to be in the car?’ ‘Is it going to be an issue if she is?’ ‘No.’ Gabe turned his wrist and looked at his watch, ‘We should hurry, we’re late.’ Anthony tightened his grip around Gabe and picked up his pace. Wounded, physically and mentally, but still the one doing the heavy lifting. He let his feet do the walking, they knew where they were going. He’d been here before, years ago. It had been lighter, less foggy, but the dark umber brickwork and tall windows of the houses were instantly recognisable. Taking a shortcut through a side-alley, Anthony found his thoughts wandering to the girl. Distracted, his grip on Gabriel weakened. ‘Ant?’ Gabriel nudged him. He was quickly jostled out of his reverie and turned to look at Gabriel. “Yeah?” He tripped on a rounded, ankle-breaking cobble, but kept his balance. Thoughts of the girl vanished. ‘If there’s one thing I won’t miss, it’s these damn cobbles.’ 5

‘I love this place.’ Gabriel grinned, running his hand over the rough brickwork. He turned to Anthony. ‘Can I see it?’ There was a slight tone of pleading in Gabriel’s voice. Anthony shook his head and automatically moved to cover his pocket. ‘Later, when it’s safe.’ ‘I wouldn’t steal it, you know that.’ Gabriel moved a little closer. ‘I know.’ They looked at each other and shared a moment from the same memory. It was a lie, a small one, but significant. Only once had Gabriel stolen something from Anthony. A girl. ‘We should wait until it’s safe.’ A car’s full beams cut through the mist, lancing into their eyes, blinding them both. The roar of the engine grew louder as the car drew closer. Memories from their shared childhood were triggered and instinctively Anthony moved in front of Gabriel. The car slowed and swerved, pulling up. The door popped open, spilling light from the interior. ‘Get in.’ It was a female voice. One they both recognised. The beggar couldn’t see much out of the tinted windows. They were moving quickly through the city, lunging past slow-moving traffic and racing through barely-green lights. A few minutes later and the roads were widening, the buildings were thinning and the beggar was sure they were moving out of town. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ The voice came from the front passenger seat. Silence, punctuated by the gently-vibrating bass of the engine. Then, the scratch of the beggar’s fingernails and the slight, crusty sibilance of his lips being licked and finally a quick, hissed intake of breath. ‘I’ve done it before, you know.’ The sound of papers being rustled – some more skin being scratched, nails digging deeper. ‘You were a younger man then.’ A roll of the fingers on the wooden veneer and another brief rustle of papers. ‘Fine. One more chance.’ They drove on in silence for a few more minutes, through and out of a suburb. They stopped alongside a chain-link fence and the beggar’s door slowly

opened. He nodded and climbed out, picking up a large case from the foot well. Moving quickly to the fence, he knelt down and began to open the case. Looking up, he nodded in the direction of the car, unsure why they were waiting. A moment later, the car did a u-turn and sped away into the darkness. ‘You burnt down the fucking museum!’ Gabriel and Anthony were both silent. They’d endured a fit of ranting for the last 10 minutes, a task they’d both sat through with huge grins on their faces. No matter what she said, or how she said it, Emma had a cute voice. Most people would probably find it annoying: it was a little voice, squeaky, like a pixie. To the two friends though, it was enchanting. ‘You’re both complete morons. Arrogant morons. Do you have any idea of the value of the art you’ve just destroyed? Three priceless masterpieces! Why blow it up? Who gave you the right?’ They both continued to listen, not offering any resistance. Anthony’s grin slowly faded into the waxy smile of reminiscence. Gabriel begun to smirk, Emma’s anger sparking a vivid recollection of when they’d last been intimate. Sighing, his smirk fading, Gabriel turned to look at Anthony. They were both veterans of Emma’s explosive one-sided dialogue; it was one of her many traits that they had both loved and hated. Anthony snapped out of his reverie and turned to look at Gabe. Had it been the right move to give her up so easily? He looked away from Gabe, worried that he might’ve read the note of jealousy in his face. There was a sudden pause in Emma’s incessant stream of abuse. ‘Are either of you two listening? Anyway, it’s unhealthy, the way you two spend hours staring at each other and grinning like fools.’ Gabriel’s features hardened and turned to look at Emma. ‘Jealous, my dear? I thought we’d discussed this before…’ ‘No, I am not.’ Anthony sniggered quietly, drawing a venomous glare from Emma. ‘Anyway, stop changing the subject. You just levelled one of the most important buildings in this city. Not only are you going to become two of the most wanted criminals in the world, you’re going to be despised by historians for 7

centuries to come!’ Such a damning statement should’ve been delivered with disgust or loathing, or even disappointment, but instead Emma sounded surprisingly impassive, ruthless. At last, she had no more to say. Emma looked between their two faces, the tiniest of sighs escaping her lips. With her anger finally subsiding and giving way to the same young, childish curiousity that had driven them to plunder the most valuable antique in the world, she sat forward on her chair and slapped Gabriel’s thigh. ‘Let’s see it then!’ She looked at Gabriel’s jacket, wondering where he’d stashed the relic. He smiled and moved away from her hand, taunting her to come closer. Anthony watched as both of his best friends giggled and play-fought. By the way Gabriel ducked and dived and rolled away, Emma must’ve realised that he didn’t have the relic. Anthony scanned down Emma’s back, and then glanced at her hips as she twisted and tussled with her tormentor. ‘Gabe!’ She giggled, exasperated at his teasing. The energetic wrestling turned into a lingering hug, Gabe’s arms wrapped around Emma’s body. She wasn’t thin or particularly pretty but Anthony – and now Gabriel – had fallen in love with everything else: the anger and passion, the cold, dangerous decisiveness, and her ability to get anything done, no matter the repercussions. A few months ago Anthony would’ve turned away from their embrace, but now he found himself content that both his friends had found happiness. ‘I have it, Emma.’ She whirled out of Gabe’s grasp and turned to face Anthony. ‘Show me!’ Anthony looked out of the window. His hand was in his pocket, gently hefting the object. ‘I’m still not sure if that’s a good idea. We don’t know enough about it…’ He was still looking out of the window, searching for some sign of where they were. They were outside of town, that much he knew. ‘At least let me see it! After everything that’s happened today, I’m trying to convince myself that it was worth it.’ Gabriel quickly sat up and rested his head on Emma’s shoulder. ‘Of course it was worth it!’ He looked at Anthony expectantly. ‘Come on…’ There was the faintest hint of pleading in his voice again and it

immediately set Anthony on edge. ‘Look, we’re almost at the plane. After we take off, somewhere over the Atlantic, when we’re actually safe…’ He was trying to let both of his friends down gently but he could see from the bright fervour in their faces that it wasn’t working. ‘That’s the entrance just up ahead. Be patient! You’ll get to see it soon. Now sit back and get some ID out for the security goons.’ A few minutes later, after a quick inspection by the guards, they rolled across the concrete, empty expanse of the airfield. All three of them were silent, pensive, looking out for the private jet that they had chartered. Gabriel almost had his head out of the window, looking around for the right hangar. ‘Over there. There’s someone standing outside it looking pretty bored. I bet that’s the pilot…’ ‘Well, if you hadn’t stopped to set the charges…’ Anthony turned from the window to waste a withering look at Gabriel’s back. Emma grinned at Anthony. ‘I’m sure the charges were necessary, right Gabe?’ She patted his shoulder and giggled. The car stopped and Gabriel leaped out of the car. He turned and walked backwards, taunting his friends in the car. ‘Let’s go! I wanna see that relic!’ Anthony climbed slowly out of the car, followed by Emma. She looked at Anthony’s back and then down at the bulge in his jacket pocket. ‘Is that it…?’ Anthony turned and smiled at her. ‘Keep up, shorty, and I’ll show you in the plane.’ ‘You know, there was a time when you would do anything I asked.’ She skipped quickly to catch up and walk alongside him. ‘I liked that…’ She grinned and tugged on Anthony’s jacket, stopping him in his tracks. ‘We still work well together, right?’ ‘We do.’ She stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss Anthony on the cheek. ‘You really are too tall.’ ‘It’s not my fault your mother experimented with human topiary…’ Emma frowned and started to walk towards the plane. ‘You know I’m sensitive about my height. It’s hard to be taken seriously when you’re almost as 9

wide as you are tall.’ Anthony said nothing and kissed the top of her head. With Anthony and Emma staring at each other, Gabriel turned around from the top of the boarding stairs. ‘Are you coming?’ Anthony nodded and started to walk, leaving a thoughtful Emma to catch up. ‘I wonder if I could get my legs lengthened or someth—‘ A massive, thundering crack drowned out Emma’s voice. Fractions of a second later the sickeningly damp crunch of metal hitting and splintering bone followed. Finally, the echo of the sonic boom and heavy thud of a body hitting hard ground. The beggar hastily took the rifle apart and placed the pieces into its case. A noise like that doesn’t go unnoticed, even in the middle of nowhere. He shut and locked the case. Standing up, he quickly took out his phone and typed a simple message, his face twisted into a grim, malevolent smile: ‘I still got it.’ He pressed send. Gabriel was the first to react, sprinting down the first few stairs and jumping the rest. Not hesitating, not slowing and not regaining his balance he reached the prone, broken body only moments after it hit the floor. His mind in overdrive, his eyes assessing the damage, he fell to his knees and lifted Anthony’s head from the cold floor. ‘Ant.’ There was no response. ‘Ant?’ Anthony’s eyes were shut and his body limp, dead or only inches away from dying. Gabriel looked up at Emma who was still standing there in shock, her eyes locked on what remained of Anthony’s legs. ‘He…’ Blood spurted out onto the ground, dying it a dark, wet black, staining it with what remained of Anthony’s life. Emma, a sliver away from catatonic shock, watched the stream of blood gather and pool around the object that Anthony had failed to protect. It lay broken on the ground in two large fragments, its core exposed to the morass of sticky plasma. The flow was slowing now and Gabriel started to cry, the brutal brunt of reality finally hitting him. He dropped Anthony’s body gently onto the ground, the finality of the weight too

much to bear. Standing up, he looked down at Anthony’s dismembered legs laying a few feet away, carried by the inertia of the gunshot. He looked at the shattered, splintered fragments that remained of Anthony’s hip. He looked at Emma who was crying, numbly unmoving. Their eyes met and widened, both instinctively turning to look at the broken relic. ‘Do you think the myth…?’ Emma was there first, kneeling down in the thick pool of blood surrounding the object. ‘It’s 2000 years old…’ Gabriel reached into the sticky goop, extracting the two halves. ‘It can’t possibly be true. Someone would’ve worked it out by now.’ ‘But no one’s ever broken it.’ Emma looked at the fragments in his hands. ‘Look there, in the middle. Wipe the blood off.’ Gabriel did so, revealing a dull, metallic core, split in two by the fall. ‘Gabe…’ ‘You don’t need to tell me. I’ve spent the last 20 years of my life studying this myth, wondering what it could mean. I just can’t believe it’s actually true.’ Gabriel grinned again, one last time. Emma smiled back, nodding. He let out a gentle sigh and placed two fingers on the core. Emma covered her eyes with her arms, the world suddenly bathed in a brilliant white burning light. A gentle gust of wind and the luminescence flitted away, once again enveloping her in cold darkness. She opened her eyes, her senses returning, a smile on her face. Anthony and Gabriel were nowhere to be seen.

11