Sixty Seconds by Claire Farrell Page B

quiet. Maybe ‘cos it was
dark. Everything looked different.
    He
turned onto his own street and saw the police car outside his
house, the neighbours gathering outside his gate. He pushed past
them, heard whispers of his name, saw Ma crying on the doorstep.
Sobbing, a woeful cry, a scary cry. Her eyes were wild and her
fingers bunched into fists and she didn’t look up at him, even when
he stood over her.
    Eamon
looked up and saw Selena in the hallway, her face tear-stained and
her lips cracked and dry.
    “ It’s Da,” she said.
     

 
Eco-Friendly

     
    I lean over, hands on knees, and struggle to catch my breath.
Last as always - the others are probably long gone. Typical. I
stand up straight, still panting, and wince at the god-awful stitch
in my side. It’s so freaking dark, I just know I’m gonna get lost
trying to find my way out of here. Stupid
trees blocking the moonlight . I kick one
hard and howl with pain as my toes crack.
    I hear a giggle. Did someone just run
past me? I hope the lads come back to find
me, I think I might have turned around. Maybe we shouldn’t have
egged that car. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The stuck
up bitch who owns it would never think to follow us through the
woods. Jesus, I hope I’m going the right
way.
    Probably stupid of us to run into the woods, knowing they’re going to
cut them down in a few days. It was sad that kid died after the
branch fell but it was an accident, why cut down the whole forest
over it? Probably some council official got a brown envelope in his
back pocket from a developer, and signed the order to cut the whole
forest down. He might say it’s a health and safety thing, but we’ll
all know who cha-chinged when the land gets turned into a car-park.
Dave reckons he heard the sex shop was okayed but no way are we
that lucky. Fucking holy joes protesting
always ruining it for the rest of us.
    Maybe losing the woods is for the best. We’re getting a bit
old for all the messing about and hiding in the trees like kids.
Next month, I’ll be old enough to get charged if a copper catches
me with another spray can so it’s a bit of a relief to have an
excuse to stop. That cock-eyed cop with
the accent has it in for me, I swear.
    I hope I’m walking in a straight line, I’ll find my way out
eventually if I don’t circle. I pass an old oak tree with a deep
slice in the bark of the trunk, that’ll be Dave and his pen knife
again. He thinks he’s a big man with his knife, used to be the
quiet one before he bought that blunt piece of crap. He’s a
show-off now, flicking it open whenever Sharon is around. Wanker,
he knows I had my eye on her first. Who cares if I never said
anything? I don’t know why I touch the incision. Gross. I pull my
fingers away, sticky with whatever’s oozing out of that
tree. Looks like silver blood.
    Getting cold now, too quiet, isn’t there supposed to be
animals at night? Badgers or something? Owls even? The trees look
sort of creepy, like giants with lots of arms. The branches dip low
but I don’t feel a strong breeze, just a chill in the air. I clear
my throat, just to make a noise. It echoes around the trees until
I’m almost convinced someone is out there, mocking me. Probably
Dave, it’d be just like him. I’ll show him. I’m not scared. Much .
    “ Very funny, Dave. Hil-fucking-arious. Now stop acting like a
twat and help me figure out how to get out of here.”
    Nothing. He’s always been a wanker, that Dave. Feels like I’ve
been walking around for hours but I’m still in the middle of a
hundred poxy trees. Is that the same oak
tree? Looks like the same cut on the trunk.
Dave’s getting imaginative now, running ahead of me marking trees
so I’ll think I’m lost.
    “ Way to be obvious, man.”
    My words
echo for a long time, until they sound almost like a little girl.
Is that supposed to happen? Whatever, I have to hurry, get home
before Mam gets home from work. She’ll flip her lid if she finds
out I