fredbassett: (Fred - PNW)
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Title : You'd Be Off Your Trolley To Go Anywhere Else
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : OCs
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Friday night in the Forest of Dean
A/N : Written for Series 1 week on [livejournal.com profile] primeval_denial’s 52 weeks of Primeval. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] rain_sleet_snow for putting this idea in my head after today’s re-watch of Series 1, Episode 1.

EIGHT YEARS AGO, IN THE FOREST OF DEAN

The duty officer at Coleford station stuck his head round the door, an apologetic look on his round face. “Sarge, just had a request in for a car to go over to Asda, sounds like there’s some sort of trouble going on.”

“Kids?” Sam Lewis stood up and reached for her stab vest. The local kids weren’t usually too much of a pain, but there’d been a few druggie problems in the area and she had a suspicion that one of the Birmingham gangs was looking to muscle in on their patch. Always good to get some idea of what you was going up against, especially on a Friday night.

Barry Glenn shrugged. “Caller didn’t say. Just said she seen some trollies go flying around the carpark. One shot into the road and nearly hit her brand new Smart. She didn’t sound best pleased.” He grinned. “Right twatmobiles. The trolley was probably bigger.”

“Tell control I’m on my way. Where’s Pete?”

“Having a fag out the back.”

PC Pete White looked guiltily at her as she came out of the back door of the station. “Don’t tell my missus, sarge, she’ll have my balls if she knows I’m still smokin’.”

“She’d have to have no fucking sense of smell and a brain the size of a pea not to know, you daft git. Now get in the fucking car, we’ve had a call. Some scrotes are chucking shopping trollies around the car park at Asda.”

“Without putting a quid in the slot? Fuckin’ diabolical. What’s the world comin’ to? You want to drive?”

“What, and miss the chance to criticise your handbrake turns? On your bike, sunshine.”

White slid into the front seat of the squad car.

Sam pointed her electric key fob at the gates and to her surprise, the green light came on and they started to swing open. They’d only been installed a month ago, and since then they’d been on the blink more than they’d been working.

“Blues and twos?” White said hopefully.

“And scare the little fuckers away? Don’t you want any fun?”

“Not really. All for a quiet life, me.”

Which was why he was still a PC at 45, but Sam had been around the Forest long enough to know what battles to fight and which ones to simply ignore. White was one of the things you just ignored.

10.15pm was a bit early for the usual after-pub kick-offs. Chances were this was just some of the younger kids in the area letting off steam.

A sudden flash lit up the sky. White’s hands jerked on the wheel and the car slewed a couple of feet across the white line in the middle of the road.

“Fuck was that?” he demanded.

“Came from the direction of Asda. In your own time, Whitey.” Sam’s hand shot out and slammed on the lights and sirens.

White grinned and stamped on the gas.

They skidded around mostly empty roads, fishtailing into the short service road that led to the Asda car park three and a half minutes after pulling out of the station.

A car was on its roof, flames already pouring out of a ruptured petrol tank.

“Control, get me a pump and an ambulance!” Sam demanded into the car radio. “Jesus fuck, is anyone in that?”

It would take three minutes, tops, for a fire engine to get from Cinderhill to Asda, but that was going to be three minutes too long if some poor fucker was in that car. It wasn’t unknow for the local working girls to take a punter for a quick blowjob in the carpark. But if anyone was in that blazing wreck, they were toast. Literally.

The carpark was a mess. A second car was upside down. A third was on its side, leaning up against a lamppost. Trollies everywhere, bins overturned. A fucking great big crack in the glass at the front. Someone had been having some fun. It looked like some of them had rammed a car into the front and then overturned it. This was too much mess just for a couple of kids out twoccing on a Friday night.

A young black guy in an Asda uniform ran out, waving his arms about.

White hit the brakes and the car skidded to a stop.

“What the hell’s been happening?” Sam demanded as soon as she’d jumped out.

The guy took a step backwards. “Dunno, miz. I was in there cleanin’ up. Just finishin’ an’ goin’ out the back to get me stuff, then summat slammed into the front and a minute later, that blew up!” The man looked scared to death, and Sam didn’t blame him.

“What did you see?”

“Didn’t see nuthin’. Well, nothin’ ‘cept some woman bangin’ on the glass. Couldn’t open up for her even if I wanted. Finished off doin’ me job. Think she went off to the 12 o’clock shop instead.”

The lad looked like he was about to shit himself. She’d have to take a proper statement off him later, but in the meantime, she’d need to take a look round for the woman, but the chances were she’d have scarpered by now. No one with any sense would have hung around with this lot going on.

“Wait in the car,” she told him, taking a quick look to check that White had the keys in his hand and hadn’t left them in the ignition. You always looked a right prat if you managed to get your car nicked on a job. The cleaner looked harmless, but she was a suspicious cow.

The cleaner was only too happy to do as he was told, which was a point in his favour.

As far as she could tell, the other cars in the carpark, including the trashed ones, were empty. The locals had a habit of leaving their cars there while they went to the local pub and the chippy. People were stating to appear on the road now, standing around in huddles and enjoying the show. Probably the most fun they’d had all night. As far as she could see, there was no one hiding anywhere nearby. She took a quick look around the upturned bins, but all she would see was a load of rubbish strewn around, and shopping trollies lying like they’d just been picked up and tossed around. Some of them also looked like they’d been jumped up and down on. The carpark was a right fucking mess.

The sound of a siren told her one of the local pumps was not far away. The big engine swung around the corner doing an even better job of taking it at speed than White had managed, but those guys had probably had more practice. In a matter of seconds, they had a hose trained on the car fire. The flames spluttered and tried to fight back but the water pressure was too much and flames started to give way to steam.

As soon as it was safe, one of the fire crew ran up and dropped to his knees, peering into the wreckage. “Looks clear!” he called.

“Thank fuck for that.” Sam let out a long breath. “Whitey, tell Control I want CSIs down here now.”

She put her hands on her hips and stared around at the mess.

The good folks of Coleford weren’t going to be doing their Saturday shop here. Someone had done a right number on the place.

Just like the good old days in Brum.
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