Where in the Blackhouse Jesus dies and Jude gives a Judas kiss and a beast rises for the first time

It was the junkie Andy who reacted first. He had watched Jesus clench up and topple forward and now stretched out a leg and tried pushing Jesus' body up a few ribs so as he could see his face. It was to no avail. Some strange weight had entered Jesus and pushing him up was like trying to manipulate a huge sack of sand. Then Jude was up, panicking around Jesus.

"He's gone over! Quick help me!" he said to Andy.

The two addicts now dragged Jesus from behind, clutching him under the armpits, and pulled him free off the milk-crate. Jesus's head was collapsed down against his chest and there was thick saliva and a small trace of what looked like vomit from his mouth.

"We gotta walk him around!" said Andy, "Fuck!!!!"

The two men tried walking Jesus around the room but it was useless. Jesus' legs  were like gelatine and his entire body was pulled down by all of gravity's might.

"Lay him down," said Jude. "The fuckers gone.. he's fucking gone!"

No one said it but both knew this was no heroin overdose. What Jesus had just shot was from a score they had made some days ago and which had affected both men badly.Not as badly as it had affected Jesus, but it had made them unwell and nauseous and both had suffered severe tachycardia. They laid Jesus down on the floor. By now the commotion had woken Lloyd who was sat on his bed, a tall dark  vicious looking Jamaican with yellowed eyes and a scarred face, an afro twisted in violent piks and topless, his torso lean and stringy and branded. He sat groggy holding a can of Special brew and staring with a look of vicious contempt at the junkies, as Jesus was laid out on the filthy floor and Andy lowered his ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat.

"Rars' clot!" said Lloyd, kissing  his lips. "Wha a g'waan ere? Wha madness disturbin muh shut-eye?"

Neither of the addicts responded to Lloyd. Andy, not able to hear Jesus' heartbeat took-up Jesus' wrist and pressed in two fingers to sense a pulse. Jude meanwhile was slapping his face and calling his name. "You got a pulse? Anything?" he asked Andy

Andy shook his head and said no. "He's gone, man... the fuckers gone over on that shit!"

"CRIMINAAAAL" screeched Lloyd, glowering into a drunken gaze at the junkies.

"You gotta revive him... this cunts dead, he's crashed. Andy, you need to fucking blow some life back into him!"

"I don't know how to fucking revive people... never had someone go over like this on me!"

"You a kill dat man tonite," cursed Lloyd, cackling through a mouthful of beer. " 'im d'ere  not gonna see no new millenium. Dat bredren done cooked good."

Jude pushed Andy out the way. "Get ready to pump his chest when I say." He pinched Jesus' nose and pushed the top of his head back so as his mouth flopped opened. He looked in at Jesus' rotten teeth, the tongue corrugated in the mouth. He cleared his mind, put his mouth to Jesus' and blew. When he stopped he told Andy to pump the chest. Andy was on his knees astride Jesus. He pushed down on his chest but looked more like he was kneading dough.

"Harder! You gotta do it harder!!!" said Jude  filling Jesus' lungs again. "You've gotta get to the heart... Break his fucking chest plate if you have to."

"What? I could kill him doing that!"

"Kill him? He's already fucking dead!"

"I's gonna kill a dead man!" ridiculed Lloyd

Andy kneaded the chest again, a little harder but still like he was working dough and with no passion. Having barely given six pumps he gave up and despairingly said it was useless. Jude filled Jesus' lungs again and now desperately tried the chest massage himself. He worked the chest so hard that he heard the lungs empty and felt the air come out through Jesus' nose and mouth.  The stench that come up with Jesus' stale air was eye-watering. Jude gave one last unsuccessful attempt to revive jesus and then too gave up, collapsing down on Jesus'  thin, junk ravaged torso. He shouted and beat Jesus' chest with his fists. Andy, now sitting on the floor besides the tragedy, put his hand on Jude's back and told him to stop, that Jesus was dead. Jude looked at Jesus, his old friend, and then sobbed tears borne of a tremendous guilt. The two men had purposely sold Jesus that stuff and now he was dead.  They had enough good heroin between them that they could have sold him. Jesus' life suddenly seemed to have some value, life seemed to have some value. Death was in the room, amongst the smoke and in the fire and the smells. Jude looked at Andy and asked: "What the fuck we gonna do? He's dead."

"Dead, rhars! Pussy clot junk fien' dead in da yard! I's warn yous good, I's not having dhem beasts round ere! ya'ear? Nuh... BLACKHEART MEN... Blackheart men!!!"  Lloyd was now raised, unsteady on his feet, his stringy arms slung down his sides. He looked wild with violence, something murderous in his gaze. For forever he'd kissed his teeth whenever anyone cooked up in the room and he held open contempt for junkies, and now, this night, there were three of them and one was stone cold dead.

word count: 917

Notes: ensure the millennium celebrations are characterized in noise and colour during Jesus's visit to the blackhouse. Also adapt time so as he is actually there for the turn of then New year. Go through old notes on London Jamaican patois and notes on Lloyd.